The New Life
a novel by Mark Robert Whitten
Chapter 8
The day of the festival arrived faster than Jess expected. He's spent the entire week dreading the dance and, at the same time, looking forward to seeing Leslie in a dress. He just couldn't picture her wearing something so girlish. As hard as she worked on it, though, he figured he'd better not laugh. Leslie and Mother had spent many days laboring over their new creation. They went to town and picked out cloth, cut it up and sewed it together, all the while sharing stories and laughing about private girl things. Mother often told him how nice it was to have a daughter Leslie's age; Brenda and Ellie weren't much for making dresses anymore and May Belle was more of a pain than a help.
That left Jess taking care of her and worrying if Leslie and mother were talking about him. He sat outside, munching an apple and listening to the sounds from within as Leslie was fitted for her dress. The sun was setting fast and as the shadows grew long, Jess knew he was running out of time. He would see the dress tomorrow and Leslie would ask him how it looked. Jess didn't know what he would say. He wished he weren't alone. Father was in town working and Brenda and Ellie were inside grumbling about this or that and helping to get her dress done before supper.
His only company now was May Belle.
Leaning back against an old tree, Jess took another bite of his apple as he regarded her. She was playing in the soft dirt before him, trying to get as dirty as possible before bath time. He remembered doing the same thing when he was her age. Her little green dress was covered with stains. He knew father would be home soon and that he wouldn't be pleased with him for letting her get so dirty. He wondered if he could blame someone else but decided against it. Better to let father be angry than try to lie and make it worse.
Besides, he had too much to worry about already, with Leslie and the dance coming up. Somebody cried out then, making him jump. He twisted around to look back at the house but he couldn't see anything. The shouts coming from within told him that somebody got stuck with a pin. He hoped it was Leslie and that she had gotten stuck in her behind.
"Serves you right," he grumbled.
May Belle stopped her play and looked up at him. Her dirt-covered face scrunched up in a curious frown. "Serves who right?"
He glared down at her and shook his head. "Never you mind."
She shrugged and went back to playing while Jess went back to brooding. He was just fantasizing about dunking Leslie in the pond when the sound of horses brought him to attention. He peered through the gloom.
A wagon was approaching.
May Belle was up in a second. "Papa!"
He snatched at her but she slipped away from him and ran off to greet father. Jess knew he was in trouble. May Belle wasn't allowed to run into the road, especially at dusk, when it was harder to see. Jess chased after her but he knew she wouldn't be hurt; he was more worried about himself.
If she got flattened, he would get whipped.
He caught up with her and pulled her to the side of the road, just as the wagon rolled past. Jess squinted against the dust kicked up by the passing cart and held on tight to his squirming little sister. He watched the dark form of the wagon as it rolled down the road.
It wasn't father.
Jess sighed. May Belle pulled away. He knew she was probably making faces at him in the dark, but he didn't care. Father was going to be late again and Jess knew he would have to watch May Belle the rest of the night. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and made his way back to the tree to stand watch for father. Jess glanced back at the house. He wouldn't be allowed back in until they pried the dress off Leslie and by that time he would have to eat supper and go straight to bed. He stifled a yawn as he rubbed his eyes.
Sleep sounded good. It had been a long week.
But he knew the next day would be even longer.
He thought about visiting Valerie and her mother. It had been a week since he had seen them and he thought they might know what to do. He decided he would have to wait until after tomorrow. He picked up the book Leslie had given him, running his fingers over the worn leather cover. The Greatest Adventure. It was full of the kind of stories Leslie told and reading it while she was busy made him feel like she was there with him. He hadn't been able to continue reading since dusk settle and he could hardly wait for the morning so he could start again. Leslie had been right; when he read, it seemed like he was there alongside the heroes as they faced monsters in caves and dungeons.
Jess never knew reading could be so much fun.
He knew his own life wasn't so great—what with the festival and all—but the book helped keep his mind off his troubles. As he flipped through the pages, squinting in the dark, mother called him in for supper and he trudged towards the house, dragging May Belle along.
As he slipped inside, he saw that Leslie was wearing her old clothes: one of his shirts and her pants. She wore no vest and he briefly wondered what she had done with it. He also wondered where her dress was hidden. She hadn't showed it to him, "Because," she said, "I want it to be a surprise."
Jess liked her surprises but he was tired of waiting; he wanted to see her wearing the dress. He slumped down at the table and started on supper. As he watched Leslie from across the table, he smiled. She saw his grin and smiled back. They didn't talk much, just ate and smiled and after supper Jess tucked the book back under his pillow and whispered a good night to Leslie. He waited for a reply but she was already asleep.
He started on the book again the next day. Breakfast pulled him away from it and as he ate his eggs, Brenda and Ellie chatted about what they would do at the festival. Leslie mercifully didn't say much about it and when they finished breakfast, Jess was ordered to bathe and then upstairs to dress in his fancy festival clothes, the ones that itched. He hated wearing them and was grateful that he only had to don the outfit on special occasions, since mother had an argument with the priest a few years before, keeping them from attending temple services.
The festival would start with the service at the temple, though and mother said it would start there since many people used the festival as an excuse to get drunk and wouldn't be able to attend if they held the prayer service at the end of the day. Jess knew that it was that kind of candor that kept them from the temple's weekly services. He was proud of his mother for standing up to the know-it-all priest, instead of groveling like so many other supplicants. They still had to donate a few pennies when they attended the festival but Jess didn't mind; although sometimes he wished he had a little money for some of the fancy candies they sold at the fair.
As he pulled on his black wool trousers, he heard the girls getting ready below. Leslie was slipping on her dress, he knew, and he couldn't wait to see her.
He would have himself a good laugh before the tedium of Temple Service.
The voices of his sisters, both older and younger, drifted up to him as he slipped on his simple leather shoes and buttoned his best red shirt. They were just about finished from what he could hear. He was too and as he waited for them to call him down, he thought one more time about the dreaded dance. Leslie would no doubt ask him for a turn. He would refuse, saying he didn't know how. Jess supposed he could have learned, but he didn't want to lose his only viable excuse. He knew she would find a way around the one he had. He picked up the book and considered reading it.
Maybe he could forget his problems again.
"Jess," mother called, "We're ready to go!"
He sighed. It was time.
As he tossed the book on his pillow, he wondered what the heroes of the story would do. "Probably die."
Jess ran his hands through his well-combed hair and climbed down the ladder. He held the rungs tightly as his feet touched the floor. Taking a purging breath, he turned around.
That's when he saw her.
Leslie stood with her hands clasped in front of her, a look of uncertain expectation etched on her fair face. "Well, Jess… How do I look?"
Jess took in the sight of her jaw-length, wheat-colored hair, usually ruffled and untamed, now combed straight down on either side. She wore a light blue dress, the color of the sky. The simple white collar matcher her cuffs.
Many dresses tried for ostentatious excess, the common belief being that the more elaborate the dress the better it looked. Brenda and Ellie's were no exception. Brenda's deep blue dress was covered with matching lace and revealed more of her swelling chest than seemed appropriate, while Ellie's red dress was done over with ribbons and other such ornamentation.
Leslie's simple dress put them both to shame. It was glorious in its understated beauty, seeming to provide a cutting statement that she didn't need to impress anyone. That alone made her seem a girl of elegance and bearing, with more dignity than the two strutting hens could ever hope to have. He had been expecting Leslie to try to outdo his sisters. He expected to have a good laugh at how silly she looked trying to keep up with girls twice her age. Jess didn't laugh. She didn't look silly at all. She looked beautiful.
"You look nice, Leslie," he heard himself say. He blushed as she did at his unexpected compliment. Leslie grinned sheepishly. Mother beamed. Brenda and Ellie snickered behind her about their "wedding." He didn't care. Right then, everything seemed fine. He smiled at Leslie as he helped her with a nice white coat and pulled on his own brown wool coat. Mother motioned for them to head for the wagon. Jess took Leslie's hand and they walked out together to greet the dawn. It was a beautiful day for a festival.
The birds sang songs, the sun smiled and a cool breeze blew through the fields carrying the scent of un-harvested wheat. Father put down the wagon's gate and lifted May Belle up, reminding her to not let her pretty pink dress get dirty. He then lifted Jess and Leslie last and they all sat on potato sacks in the back while Brenda and Ellie squeezed up front with mother and father. Father flicked the reins and they lurched forward, Leslie, May Belle and Jess giggling at the sudden motion.
They crossed the river soon after, the oxen trudging slowly through the water as everyone tried not to get their good clothes splashed. Jess spotted a few people along the road on the opposite bank, no doubt on their way to Westwood as well. Leslie waved to a few of them, smiling as if she were in a parade. Jess waved a little at her urging and a few people even waved back.
Just then Jess saw the most exciting something he had ever seen: A group of soldiers thundering across the road, their armor gleaming in the sunlight. He rose up on his knees to get a better look but they rode by so fast he hardly had time to see them. He slumped back down and turned to ask Leslie if she had seen them. He found her laying low in the wagon with her shoulders scrunched up. She looked scared.
He leaned close to her and whispered, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she whispered. "I'm fine." She peeked up over the wagon's side, searching for something. Jess couldn't imagine what it could be, but after a minute, she seemed to relax and sat up straight again. She brushed clean the material of her light blue dress and flashed him a bright smile. "I just slipped that's all."
He didn't believe it for a moment.
* * * * *
Jess scratched at his clothes. They were itching like ants. Temple worship was as boring as he could remember. He wished they could leave, but he knew better than to speak in the Temple. Leslie was standing beside him, seeming fascinated by the priest's long-winded speech. He figured she was good at faking it.
As he yawned, Jess glanced up at father, hoping he wouldn't get a smack. Father's creased face didn't look away from the priest and Jess was pleased to see that he looked as bored as everyone else. His eyes drooped and more than once Jess thought he had to blink to stay awake as the voice of the priest echoed around the room, thunderous and damning. He ended his speech with threats of terrible suffering for those that dared defy the gods punctuated by warnings against being led astray.
The supplicants bowed their heads and the brass collection plate was finally passed. Jess listened to the clink of loose coins being dropped in as it came near.
Leslie reached out and dropped a penny on the pile.
He stared at her in open shock. "Leslie," he whispered, "Where'd you get that?"
She shrugged. "I found it outside and I thought it might help." She frowned. "Did I do something wrong?"
Jess shook his head. "I-I guess not."
With nothing else to do, he returned his attention to the boring speech. The service was nearly over; he felt a swell of anticipation. Now that they had gathered the money, it was almost time to leave. The priest declared a final warning to mind the will of the gods and everyone promised they would. Jess yawned again and as the clanging bell announced the sound for their freedom, everyone departed.
Being freed from the service, Jess felt like he was being freed from a dungeon. Everyone seemed to feel the same way, seeming to come alive as they began talking and spreading out into the town proper and as he walked beside Leslie, she smiled at him and immediately pointed towards some games tables.
Jess couldn't help but grin. Everyone in town was celebrating. Music makers started playing as people joked and laughed and danced and played at a variety of games. Jess looked about at all the fun, realizing for the first time that he had truly forgotten how much there was to be had: There were jugglers and story tellers and pretend fighters; there were tables full of food and many a man tipping up a bottle, some giving mocking praise to the gods in a false toast. He and Leslie walked amongst the crowds taking in the sights and noise. Leslie played at a few games and won a few pennies which she used to buy some treats. Jess accepted the pastry she bought and stuffed it in his mouth. She laughed and did the same. Leslie tried a test of strength but her scrawny arms were not strong enough to even lift the hammer for the attempt. Jess laughed and she smacked his shoulder, making him quickly reconsider her lack of strength. As the men around the stall laughed and stepped up to try the hammer, Jess and Leslie wandered away looking for games of skill and chance, "Which," she said, "are more suited to our strengths."
They wandered about awhile, politely pushing their way through the churning throngs. The crowds were abuzz with conversations of all kinds. Jess heard the end of a crude joke and the man who told it roar in laughter as others stood about silently glaring, not caring for his sense of humor.
The family stayed together mostly, but Brenda and Ellie wandered off to talk to the boys. Brenda fancied her old blue dress as something very fashionable, what with the way she had added ribbons to it. Leslie told him they were her idea, a way to smooth things over between them. Jess was impressed with her efforts but he knew that favors to Brenda were all too quickly forgotten; she would be mean again in no time.
Seeing her work on Brenda's blue dress, Ellie had asked for help with her red dress and Leslie had gladly obliged. Jess had higher hopes for his eldest sister, as she only seemed to go along with the bullying because Brenda thought it was funny. Although she was just as immature, for some reason Jess expected more from Ellie. Leslie helped by saying she was a fine sister and just needed a little understanding.
After a while, Jess spotted someone he didn't expect. He rushed up to her and called out her name. "Valerie!" He watched her long red hair whip about as she turned to look and when she saw who was calling, her green eyes lit up like candles.
"Jess?" Her smile faded a little. "Where's Leslie?"
Jess held his hand out to indicate the girl beside him. "Right here."
Leslie beamed. "Nice to see you again, Valerie."
Valerie stared a moment. Then she barked a laugh. "Well, by the gods, it is you!" She gestured to Leslie's dress and neatly combed hair. "You look so different!"
"Thanks." Leslie grabbed the light blue fabric of her dress and held the sides out as she dipped a curtsy and smiled up at their friend. "You look nice, too."
Valerie blushed almost as red as her hair, smiling sheepishly as she ran a hand down her violet gown. "My mother made this for me. She wanted me to tell you that she's sorry she couldn't come." She leaned close and whispered. "She's not feeling well, you know."
"I'm sorry," Leslie answered. "I hope she feels better soon."
"Me too, Leslie." Valerie nodded, "Me too…"
Jess felt a pang of sorrow for Valerie and worry for her mother. The festival wasn't a time to be sad or scared; it was a time to have fun. "I hope we get to visit soon," he offered. "It might make her feel better." Valerie nodded her appreciation and wandered away. Jess looked to Leslie and sighed. He wished he could help. Leslie's expression reflected his sentiment. He took her hand and led her through the crowded streets. He couldn't do much for the Vanderholt's but he hoped he could improve Leslie's mood. He hoped to maybe find a game stand or pastry-eating contest to watch.
He smirked at the thought of Leslie competing, and snickered at the image it conjured of Leslie all covered in pastry cream but as they passed by the old blacksmith's shop, Jess caught sight of something that took the mirth right out of him: An older boy scratching his greasy black hair and looking about for trouble. The one next to him was no less intimidating; his short-cropped orange hair and fat, freckled face made him look like a monster of nightmares.
The monster caught sight of him and pointed.
The black-haired Hoager turned to look and squared his shoulders in challenge.
Jess took Leslie's arm and walked her away. Best not to start trouble, his father would say. He knew they would tease him, since he was with a girl, but he figured they wouldn't start anything in the crowd so, without explaining, he steered Leslie toward the center of the town square, where the great platform rose above the people.
Already there was a large crowd dancing atop it and everyone surrounding the ground-level was clapping in time with the lively music. Jess slipped between the towering forms of adults, trying his best not to be noticed.
As the people dancing atop the stage tired, they descended the staircase on either side while others ran up to dance and sing. Jess looked back through the crowd to see Hoager and Fulcher standing back near the blacksmith's shop. They made fighting gestures. Jess swallowed his apprehension and looked away, glad to be safe for the moment.
As he turned back to talk to Leslie, she suddenly bolted for the stairs. Jess watched, dumbstruck, as she raced up the steps and joined the dancing crowd, swishing her skirt about and spinning among girls and boys. Many a boy took her by the waist and spun her about like a doll. She laughed the whole time. Jess recovered from his shock after a moment and laughed as well, clapping with the crowd as the drums beat and the pipers piped and Leslie jumped and spun and twirled and danced.
Leslie flashed her brightest smile and waved at him. He wanted to go up there, to be with her and to have fun, but he didn't dare. He couldn't dance and especially not in front of the entire town, so he contended himself with watching his best friend jump about and resisting the strong urge to shout to the entire crowd that the best dancer on the stage was his best friend.
Jess silently wondered if that was how it felt to be proud of someone.
When Leslie looked tired, she spun away and pranced down the steps, two at a time. She found him then and rushed over, breathless. "That was so much fun!"
"You were great!" he shouted over the crowd. "I wish I could dance like you!"
She gave him a mischievous smirk. "C'mon then, Jess!"
She tugged at his arm and led him towards the stairs. He tried to stay with the crowd but she kept pulling. Jess blushed furiously, thinking he was about to be dragged up in front of everyone and made to dance when Leslie suddenly stopped. She was staring at something in the distance. Jess peered through the crowd, but couldn't see anything strange. The crowd atop the stage continued their singing, dancing and clapping. No one even noticed Leslie as she turned away from the stage, her almond-shaped eyes lowered to the ground. She walked away quickly, her hand covering the side of her face.
Jess followed her as she moved out of the crowd. "Leslie?" When she ignored him, he called out to her again. "Leslie!" Jess' blood ran cold.
She was going towards the blacksmith's shop.
He raced to catch up with her. "Leslie! Stop! No!"
She didn't turn around, just pulled up short as Hoager stepped out before her. "Well, well," Hoager sneered. "What we got here?"
Jess rushed up to Leslie and took her arm. He wanted her away from Hoager.
"Looks like Aarons found himself a new girl," came a voice from behind.
Jess didn't have to look to know it was Fulcher. They were surrounded. Hoager was leering at Leslie. He liked to talk, Jess knew, and while Hoager was thin, he was also clever and conniving. Fulcher was more muscle and usually let Hoager speak for him. They were both looking at Leslie and not in a friendly way.
"Pretty one too," Hoager added. The way he leered at Leslie made Jess sick. "You were the one dancing, weren't you?"
Leslie nodded. She looked upset, but Jess didn't think it was because of Hoager; something else was bothering her. He couldn't ask right then but made a promise to himself to find out what was bothering her later—if there was a later. Hoager's gaze slid to him, then. "You got a problem, Aarons?"
Jess didn't know what to say. Leslie spoke then and he wished she hadn't. "The only problem here is you—and your breath."
That took the smug grin right off Hoager's freckled face. He looked ready to kill. "She's got a lot of sass for a girl, Aarons," Hoager snarled. "She your new bodyguard?"
"N-no," Jess managed, but he knew he sounded weak.
Hoager was eyeing Leslie again. He grinned like a hungry dog. "Maybe she wouldn't be so mean if she danced for us."
Jess heard Fulcher chuckle behind him. He glanced back to see Fulcher stroking the steel-bladed arrowhead he always wore around his fat neck. Jess guessed he wore it because he thought it made him look dangerous. Fulcher's intense blue eyes stared out from his over-freckled face at Leslie's rear as his thick fingers rubbed the shining surface of his arrowhead. He grinned in wicked delight at the sight of her. Jess' blood heated at what they were probably thinking. He was just about to tell Hoager that she wouldn't dance for them for all the gold in the world when a new voice rang out across the alley.
"Lay off 'em, Hoager."
They all turned to see a tall girl—taller than any of them—come stalking in from the street. Her round, freckled face was set in a permanent scowl. She munched on a crispy pastry as she neared, seeming unconcerned with the presence of her rivals. Jess swallowed hard and tried not to run as Hoager squared off against this new threat. "You're running things now, Avery?" Hoager's courage sounded false and Jess knew he would disappear like a rat in a hole as soon as Janice got close. Hoager shifted his beady eyes, looking for an escape as he gestured to Jess. "What do you care what we do with these two farm rats?"
Janice flashed a wicked grin as she sucked cream off a thick finger. She pointed to Leslie. "The beanpole's got money—I seen her with it." She pointed her fat thumb over her shoulder. "Get lost, Hoager. You can play with her some other time. Right now, I got business with her and the farm-boy."
"I ain't afraid of you," Hoager mocked.
Jess could tell he was. Just then a half dozen other girls stepped out from the shadows, all of them as mean-looking as Janice—and just as big. Janice cocked an eyebrow. "You afraid of them?"
Hoager and Fulcher flinched and pulled away, mumbling that they had better things to do right then. Jess could only imagine what other trouble they would cause that day. With the boys gone, Janice sauntered forward and towered over them. She took another bite of pastry and glared down at Leslie as she chewed. "Got coin, beanpole?" Her voice was mocking with a hint of challenge. Jess hoped Leslie would ignore the taunt and just surrender her money.
To his relief, Leslie tried to move away, but Janice planted her thick arm on the shop wall, blocking her retreat. Leslie stood there, facing her. Jess watched as she glanced down and saw the world's biggest feet sticking out from the world's fanciest leather sandals.
"Nice…feet."
"You say something?"
Leslie's face came back up. "Uh, what I said was…have you ever heard the story… about the trolls, under the bridges, who collect tolls from unlucky travelers?"
Janice's scowl darkened. "You calling me a troll?"
Leslie backed away, deeper into the alley. "No, no, I was just…"
Jess grabbed Leslie's arm and whispered, "Just give her the coins you won."
"No." She frowned at him. "They're mine." She turned back to face Janice. "Why should I…?"
One look at Janice's scowl changed her mind and Leslie meekly handed over what few coins she had won. Janice snatched them from her and tossed them up in the air a few times. "Not bad, beanpole." Her glare returned as she stuffed them in her pocket. "But next time, I want more from you." She gestured to the girls that were now surrounding them. "Or my friends and I are gonna have to mess up that pretty dress—maybe even your face."
Leslie smiled a little. "You really think my dress is pretty?"
Janice ignored the comment and mashed what was left of the pastry against Jess' vest, smearing it with a horrible cream stain. "Consider it a free lunch, farmer boy!"
To his great relief, she shoved past them and, laughing with her friends, headed down the alley. Jess sighed.
"Are you okay?"
He looked over at Leslie and nodded. "How about you?" She nodded too. He was glad for that. "Well, we came away from that with only a few coins lost and a messy vest." He shrugged. "I guess we did all right."
Leslie didn't look convinced. "We should have stood up to them, Jess." She shook her head ruefully as she watched Janice's departing form blending into the crowds in the street. "We really should have stood up to them."
He wiped off as much of the "free lunch" as he could. "What are you talking about?"
She walked back to the open market. "You can't let people push you around like that, or they'll do it forever." She didn't meet his gaze as they made their way back into the crowd.
Jess didn't understand what the problem was, exactly. He had been bullied by them his whole life. That's the way things were and he figured he always would be picked on by someone. "Nobody got hurt, Leslie." He scraped off some crumbs. "And besides, I know how to avoid them—usually."
She folded her arms and glared at him. He didn't think she would be so mad over a few coins. Something occurred to him, then, something he'd forgotten. "Leslie, why did you run down there anyway?"
Leslie unfolded her arms, looking less intense. If anything, she seemed embarrassed. "Well, I uh…" She scratched her head and grinned sheepishly. "I just saw something that scared me, that's all."
He looked about for something scary. "Like what?" He licked his fingers clean of the pastry cream as she averted her gaze.
She sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Leslie, please just tell me—"
"No."
Jess blinked. Her response was so final it startled him. He never had problems getting her to talk before and she always had a good reason for not talking when she didn't feel like it. She gave no reason now, just silence. She seemed resolved. He was just about to ask her again why she would be scared when a cry came out of the crowd.
"Jess!"
He looked over to see May Belle running toward them at full speed. "Jess! Jess! Janice Avery stole my pastry! Janice Avery stole my pastry!" Her plump little face glistened with tears as she skidded to a stop before the two of them and stomped her foot. "She stole it!"
He gestured to his cream-stained vest. "I know."
May Belle folded her arms across her chest, looking for all the world like a little Leslie as she pouted. "What are you gonna do about it?"
"Well, nothing." He brushed off what was left of the cream and crumbs. "She kind of… already returned it."
Leslie barked a laugh but May Belle was inconsolable. She demanded he find Janice Avery and beat her up. "You're my brother," she reminded him. "You're supposed to help!"
He leaned down and told her the truth. "I can't fight her—she's too big. But maybe Leslie will win some more coins and buy you a new pastry."
May Belle looked up expectantly at her "big sister" and sniffled. Leslie nodded and took her hand. As they walked around on to find a booth, Jess kept a lookout for bullies and noticed Leslie looking out for whatever had scared her more than Janice Avery.
* * * * *
The rest of the day was less eventful, but much more enjoyable. Leslie and Jess competed in the footrace, with Leslie winning overall, and Jess coming in right behind her. Jess was proud Leslie won, feeling no enmity at having been declared only the second best of their age-group. Other races, like the grain-sack race and the shoe-scramble, were taken by older children and Jess had to console himself with the fact that the two of them weren't well-trained for such events. The tug-of-war was a draw with no one taking a mud-bath, much to the disappointment of the gathered crowd. Jess was glad for Leslie's dress not getting ruined. May Belle received an award for growing the most over the summer and quickly devoured the apple tart prize before anyone bigger than her could take it away.
The entire festival lasted until well after dusk. The Aarons family, however, only lasted until late afternoon. May Belle was already half-asleep by the time they pulled into their yard and the rest were completely worn out from all their activities.
As father helped them down, Jess handed May Belle to him and hopped off the wagon. He gave Leslie a hand down and yawned. He had intended to visit with Valerie and her mother later, but as tired as he was, he just wanted to rest.
They all stumbled into the house and Jess went immediately to bed. As much as they'd eaten at the festival, he didn't really want any supper. Leslie had won so many tokens and shared so many candies with him that day that he thought he might be sick. She collapsed onto her blanket as he lay down on his own. She looked almost as bad as he felt. He wondered what they would do tomorrow, what with the harvest approaching, and wondered why Leslie had run into the alley.
He also wondered why she didn't want to talk about it.
After a while, Jess simply closed his eyes and wondered no more.