Chapter Four

Silly about Boys

A more unequal Match can hardly be:

Christian must fight an Angel; but you see

The Valiant Man, by handling Sword and Shield,

Doth make him, tho'a Dragon, quit the field.

"Oh, Beth!" Amy's voice breaks into my reading, and I look up from Pilgrim's Progress. Amy's face is plastered against the window, and I wonder how she stands the cold. "When do you think they'll be home?"

"Not until late tonight," I answer. You may as well find something to do. Do you want me to read to you?"

"No" Amy collapses in her seat by the window, glaring at her hands in her lap. "I wish I could go. I wouldn't have spoiled my dress like Joe."

I bite my lip, trying to find a way to defend Joe's patch on the back of her dress. I did the best I could hide the burn, but this will be the third dress the Jo has scorched by standing too close to the fire. I can't argue in her favor, so I say nothing as he turned back to my book where Christian fights Apollyon because his pride going into the Valley of Humiliation has given the Dragon grounds to attack him.

Amy kicks the chair leg. "Joe needs to learn to pay more attention. Scorching her dress is bad enough, but there is simply no excuse to burn poor Meg's hair off."

"That was an accident, Amy," I say. "It turned out all right in the end. You were so clever to think about putting a bow to cover it."

She smiles at the praise, but it doesn't take away her fidgeting mood. "Well, I'm glad that you weren't invited so you could stay home and keep me company. It would be dreadful if all three of you were gone."

My heart picks up a bit. "I wouldn't have gone anyway."

"Even with Laurie?" She swivels to face me. "He's always so nice to you. He hardly notices me."

"Laurie is a nice boy," I agree. "But I shouldn't like to go party with anyone tonight."

Or any other night.

I still remember how sick I felt at school when I went as a child, and how everyone stared at me, and I couldn't think of a thing to say.

"Well, I should." Amy pouts. "I should like to go to a party every night. Laurie looked handsome tonight, didn't he?"

I don't know how to respond. Of course, he did look handsome. He always looks nice, and tonight looked very becoming in his black suit the, but somehow it doesn't seem right speculate about him. I have become much more used to him and no longer feel scared when he lopes through our door. He has become a piece of furniture — at least that's what Hannah says — for he is always over and has nearly become a permanent fixture in our house. Joe has declared him the "brother that we never had." He eagerly accepted the title.

He was the one who talk Joe into going to the Gardeners party, despite her dress and stained gloves.

Amy pulls out her sketching and I turn back to my book, sliding Ahren's ribbon away from the words its blocking. I've been using it for a bookmark, and sometimes I imagine Christian looks very much like Ahren. I wonder if the Hummels had anything to eat tonight, and if the tray stayed in the window to block out the cold. I've been wondering if Marmie I can't find some clothing for them, especially Ahren, since he is the one that goes outside so often.

"I hate noses!" Amy throws down her pencil.

"Why?"

She sighs. "Well, I hate mine, of course, and now I can't get this one right either." She holds up the paper. "See? Does this look like Laurie to you?"

Actually, it looks very much like Laurie, and I tell her so, but she doesn't believe me. She says I'm just being nice, and that Jo would tell her the truth. Somehow, I think Jo would be more likely to tease her about drawing Laurie, but I say nothing about that.

"Marmee!"

The door flies open and Amy jumps up. "You're back already!"

Jo looks flustered, excited and slightly amused. "Marmee, come quickly. Meg's twisted her foot!"

Laurie works his rather tall figure through the door, carrying a blushing Meg like a china doll. He sets her into a chair and steps back with a flourishing bow.

"There you are. Safe and sound."

"Meg!" Marmie bustles into the room, calm as always. "What happened?"

"I was dancing and I twisted it." Meg grimaces.

Marmie will need water. I hurry into the kitchen and work the pump, watching the water spill into the bowl.

"Thank you for bringing her home, Laurie." Marmie's voice carries through the door.

"Not at all."

"I'm sorry you had to miss your party," Meg says.

"I was ready to come home anyway," Laurie says, as I carry the water back into the room. He spies me balancing the bowl and takes it from me. "Hello, Miss Beth. You're looking lovely tonight."

Needles prick my face as I flush, kneeling next to Meg's foot where I can hide my cheeks with my hair.

"Good night, Mrs. March," Laurie says. "Meg. Jo."

The door shut and Amy sinks down in bliss. "Oh, Meg. He carried you in like a princess."

Meg swallows. "He needn't have. I told him I could walk but he wouldn't let me."

"Well, he certainly did a good deed by putting snow on this ankle," Marmee says.

"He put snow on your ankle?" Amy asks, as I bath Meg's injury.

"Amy, it's time for you to go to bed." Marmie says, taking the rag from me.

"With his hands?" Amy ignores her.

"Oh, Amy, don't be so swoony," Jo scolds.

"Softly, Jo," Marmee warns, taking the rag from me. "But Amy, she is right. I won't have my girls being silly about boys."

I swallow.

"To bed." Marmee insists, "Beth, you go on too."

"Yes, Marmee," I speak faster than normal, moving to pick up my book.

Amy pouts on the way up the stairs. "I wish something like that would happen to me."

My heart pounds hard as I set my book down on my nightstand, eyeing the accusing ribbon. I bite my lip, blinking back tears as I fumble with the buttons on my dress.

Marmie's comment rings in my ear as strongly as if she had scolded me. I want to run down and tell her about this new burden on my heart, but I can't explain these feelings because I don't understand them myself. All I knew was that I worry so much about the Hummel's – especially Ahren.

Jo's feet sound on the stair, and I climb in bed and quickly turn to the wall.

"I'm sorry Meg got hurt." Jo giggles as she shuts the door, "But it was so much fun. Laurie and I stayed away from the main room and danced. He taught me a German dance, and it was so lively."

"I'm glad," I say, trying to make my voice sound light.

She slips into the bed beside me, stroking my hair back. "Are you all right?"

I nod, trying not to choke.

"Beth." Her voice softens. "What is it? Are you worried about Meg?"

I shook my head.

"Have you been fighting with Amy?"

"No," I say. "I'm fine, Jo."

She does not believe me, and I shiver a little.

"Are you cold?" Jo asks, "I am. I'll get another blanket."

She rolls off the bed and leaves me wiping away tears.

"Jo." I ask, as she throws the blanket over the bed to float down on top of me. "Do you think the Hummel's are cold tonight?"

I could feel her melt behind me, before she crawls into the bed, pulling me close. "Is that what this is about?"

I say nothing, trying to keep the pressure in my chest from welling up.

"Maybe they are, a little," she says. "But there's so many of them. I bet all of those little girls are snuggled up together in that bed and are warm enough with each other."

I swallow, not terribly convinced.

"Tomorrow. You and I will go over and see if we can help them anymore. There. Will that make you feel better?"

It doesn't. I think of Ahren, and Marmee's comment and shake my head. "I don't think that I can go back, Jo."

"Poor Beth." Jo kisses me on the cheek. "I suppose it's harder for you than the rest of us. We're all heartless, and you have so much more than most people."

I catch my breath before I began to cry, and Jo hugs me. I turn toward her, pushing my hands into my eyes, but with Jo there, there's no chance to stop the tears.

"Bethy." She smiles sadly at me. "Have you been thinking of them ever since Christmas? That was over a week ago. Did something happen to remind you?"

I shake my head. "It just doesn't seem right that we have so much and they have nothing."

"They've made it through the winter before," she says. "I'm sure that they'll be fine. We'll help them."

I nod, but the pain stays in my heart. It's not the little girls cuddled together that I'm thinking about. It's the boy alone on the pallet near the wall.

Marmie's right. I think about Ahren too often. I'm being silly. But I can't help it. Whenever I became cold, I think of how much colder he must be. And hungry. And lonely. But how can I explain to them? How can I stop thinking about Ahren? If he was Laurie next door, living in luxury with everything he needed, I could. But he's not. And he never will be.

I snuggle next to Jo and pull in a breath. Even if I try my hardest, as long as he's cold, hungry, pale and thin, I don't think that I'll ever stop worrying about the boy whose ribbon marks the place where Christian fights Apollyan.