"Blake!" Coach Elliot yelled in frustration. "The ball is supposed to go this way!"
Gwen hung her head in shame. As if it wasn't bad enough getting kicked off the hockey team ("I'm sorry, Blake, but for the safety of the team I have to recommend that you never, ever be allowed near a hockey stick or ice skate again," that coach had told her), it looked as though she was going to be asked to leave the basketball team, too.
It was so difficult! She loved running up and down the court, and she was actually fairly good at dribbling, but when it came time to throw—! Back home, Jeremy or Phil was always right there for her to pass the ball to, and then they would throw it. Here, she had no such grace; she was expected to pull her own weight.
She was running out of options for physical education. She would not embarrass herself by trying dance. She could do gymnastics for a little while with Lynde, maybe, and then she didn't know what she would do when she failed at that.
"Practice," Coach Elliot kept telling her, and she tried, but somehow, even though she knew exactly where she wanted to ball to go when she threw it, it always landed someplace completely different. Gwen couldn't understand what was wrong with her arms, but she suspected that they were built differently from most people's arms, and that was why she couldn't throw properly.
"Sit out the rest of the practice, Blake," Coach Elliot told her now. "Watch the other girls, and see if you can't figure out how to throw like they do."
Gwen collapsed gratefully onto the bench. Margie MacAllister was the star of the basketball team, and she smirked meanly at Gwen as she ran past with the ball.
"That's right, Blake, watch how I do it!" she hissed.
Gwen couldn't understand why Margie disliked her so, but she tried to ignore the other girl. "Some people," Dad always said, "Just won't be friends, no matter what you do. Those are the people to just let alone, because they'll never change."
Annie Drew was a little kinder; the look she tossed over her shoulder was brimming with pity. That almost stung worse than Margie's open sneering; Gwen was honest with herself about her shortcomings, but she didn't like to be pitied by others for them.
Gwen scuffed the toe of her shoe along the floor. She wished there was some magic pill she could take that would suddenly make her a star at … something. She didn't even care what it was at this point!
"Gwen Blake?" A tall, slim woman with hair almost as short as Gwen's own and a merry voice approached the bench.
Gwen nodded, wondering who this was. She looked too old to be a student, but too young to be a teacher—unless she was fresh out of teacher's college.
"I was watching you on the court. You have quite a talent, young lady."
Was this sarcasm? "Um, I think you might have me confused with Margie," Gwen said. True, Margie was broad and muscled and had dark hair and eyes, but she and Gwen were about the same height.
The woman laughed. "Oh, not for basketball! No, I was watching you run. Tell me, have you ever clocked yourself running?"
"No," Gwen said simply.
"Hm. Tell me, what other sports do you play?"
"Soccer, and sometimes baseball, though I throw the baseball as badly as I do a basketball."
"And how are you at those?"
Gwen brightened. "I'm very good at soccer—I mean, that's what my cousin tells me," not wanting to sound like she was bragging. "And I'm almost always able to hit the ball and make it on base in baseball, even though I'm terrible in the infield or outfield."
To her surprise, the woman positively beamed. "I knew it!" she said triumphantly. At Gwen's look of confusion, she laughed again. "I'm Helen Flagg—Coach Flagg, I hope. I just received approval to start a girl's track and field team here at Glen High, provided I can find enough girls. As soon as I saw you running down the court, I knew I had to recruit you for the team. Are you interested?"
Gwen thought about it. Running—jumping—no balls to throw or sticks to manage—no team relying on her—
Suddenly she was beaming as well. "Are you joking? Of course I'm interested!"
Miss Flagg—Coach—clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! That's one."
"One? You mean, I'm the first?"
"Don't worry," Coach reassured her. "We'll have a full team soon enough. In the meantime, let's see about getting Coach Elliot's permission for you to drop basketball and take up track and field instead."
"Permission? I should think she'll probably rejoice to get rid of me!"
Coach Flagg winked. "Her loss."
Grandmother was pleased for Gwen's sake when she heard about the track and field, but Grandfather was positively ecstatic. He sat right down with her and helped her figure out a training schedule to keep to even outside of school hours, and promised to write out a meal plan for her that would help her stay fit.
"Lynde won't want to cook separate meals for me than everyone else," Gwen protested, wondering with a pang if she was going to have to give up cinnamon rolls and cookies and cake and all Lynde's other goodies.
"Nonsense," Lynde said. "You just do whatever your grandfather says, Gwen, and I'll do the same." As much as Lynde "bossed" the household of Ingleside, she adored Dr. Blythe and would have cheerfully cut off her right arm if he had mentioned it might be a good idea.
"I'm going to join the boys' team next year, when I'm in High School, too," Phil said. Like Gwen, Phil wasn't very good at most organized sports, although in his case it was mostly disinterest. He was happy enough to play for fun with his friends, but he didn't have any spark of competitive spirit in him, and was rather disastrously given to "helping" the other team without even realizing it. The day he absentmindedly passed the ball to his opponent instead of his teammate was the day his Kingsport coach told him he was off the basketball team.
Gwen grinned. Somehow, having her brother involved made everything more fun. She knew there were some sisters out there who didn't like their brothers very much, but even though she and Phil had their fights, they were the best of friends underneath it all.
"Farewell to Nova Scotia, you sea-bound coast; let your mountains dark and dreary be. For when I'm far away, on the briny ocean tossed; will you ever heave a sigh and a wish for me?" Lee's sweet young voice rang through the house. She and Jo were seated at the piano, he playing and she singing. All four Blakes could both sing and play, but Lee and Jo were the best. Jo, in fact, was so talented that Mother and Dad were discussing ways to pay for him to take lessons from a real professional, instead of just Mother.
They didn't think they could afford it, but Phil and Gwen had talked it over between themselves and agreed to go without Christmas and birthday presents for however long it was necessary, if that was what it took. Talent like Jo's, they agreed, should not be wasted.
Grandmother sighed happily. "It seems so good to hear young voices in these old rooms again. Athletes, musicians, scholars … I don't care what you all end up doing, I'm just so happy you're here."
Gwen ran across the room and threw her arms around Grandmother, pressing her cheek to Grandmother's silver hair. "And we're glad to be here."
Phil was not usually demonstrative with his affection, but he joined his sister on Grandmother's other side. "We truly are, Grandmother, we're not just saying that. It's only been a month, but already Ingleside is starting to feel like home."
The only thing, Gwen thought but did not say, that would make it better, would have been if Mother and Dad could have been there too—and Jeremy and the rest of the Blakes.
But that, she reasoned, would probably have made it too close to heaven for this earth!
"Feb. 16, 1936
"Dear Mother,
"I'm supposed to be conjugating Latin verbs, but I wanted to write to you before doing anything else—even reading the new book Aunt Jenny sent me. It's titled: The A.B.C. Murders, and it's Agatha Christie's brand-new book. It was just barely published this week in the States, but Aunt Jenny ordered it for me from England. Wasn't that kind of her? It looks simply chilling; I won't read it at night, I promise!
"Oh Mums, I do miss you and Dad. Coach Flagg has five girls now for track and field, and she said that's enough for us to qualify as a real team. We had our first practice today, and I wished you could have been there. I am the fastest girl on the team! It wasn't just a fluke, either. I know I can run faster than I did today, but I twisted my ankle a little walking to school this morning (I wasn't just being clumsy, Mother, the roads are very icy here), and it was still a bit sore this afternoon, so I couldn't run as fast as I usually do. But if I was the fastest girl while running more slowly than usual, just imagine how fast I'll be when I'm doing my best!
"This all sounds very boastful, I know, but this is the first time in my life that I've actually been good at something, I mean really good, and without Jeremy or Phil there to make me look better than I am, and oh Mother, it's amazing how it makes me feel.
"Unfortunately, being a fast runner hasn't cured me of clumsiness in every other area. I nearly broke Gog—or maybe it was Magog—yesterday, and I saw Grandmother bite her lip very hard to keep from saying something. Sometimes I think I ought to be locked away from anything valuable!
"Phil is doing well in school. I know he won't tell you that, because he is far more modest than I am; as soon as I do well in anything I have to tell you! He's by far the smartest student in his class, and probably if he wanted he could skip ahead a grade, but I know he won't do that because then we'd be in the same class and he's afraid I would be embarrassed to have my little brother in my class. (I wouldn't, Mums, you know that, but Phil is so sensitive!) He hasn't said so, of course, but I figured it out from what I've heard others saying.
"Jo already had quite the following—he always has about five or six little boys over after school and on the weekends. They play the most elaborate games, all thought up by our Jo-Jo, of course, and when he's had enough he quite coolly tells them he's tired of them and they need to go home. And they go, and come back the next day, his willing slaves. I don't understand how he does it!
"Lee is best friends with Uncle Shirley's Leigh; I don't know what they'll do when we finally go home next year. Either Lee is at the House of Dreams, or Leigh is here. They're never separate! Lee's the only one who has said anything to me about being homesick, but that was only one night when she had a stomachache and couldn't sleep.
"(Jo just came in and gravely informed me that Bluebell and Teddy send you and Dad their love. I told him I would pass that along to you, so here it is.)
"Other than that one night, everyone has adjusted very well. Grandmother and Grandfather are dear and sweet and kind and do everything they can to make us feel like we belong. Jack is in and out all the time; he is so nice, Mother! I like him almost as much as Jeremy. Uncle Jem and Aunt Faith have had us over for supper once, and we have an open invitation to drop in at the House of Dreams any time we want.
"I love Kingsport, Mums, but I must say that it is nice to live in a place with lots of relatives, more than just Uncle Jeremiah and Aunt Jenny. Aunt Nan has said that they will come visit us as soon as the roads are fit for driving, which of course probably won't happen until April. Jo is delighted at the thought of seeing Rosie again!
"I'm so happy to finally have girl friends, too, Mums. Fanny and I take all our classes together, and even though she is ten times smarter than I am, she doesn't mind helping me with our homework. The only time we're separated in school is during PE, when I'm now running track, and she's playing hockey. She's a whiz on skates!
"(Jo wandered back in and asked when you are going to send more pictures of India, and if you could try to include some of some temples in the next batch. Apparently he and his friends have a continuing game going on that revolves around their imagined idea of India, and he needs to know what temples look like for reference.)
"Where was I? Oh yes, friends. Lynde is a friend, too, even though she bosses me to death here at the house! Was Susan Baker like that in your time? Of course Susan was older than you, and Lynde is my own age, which makes it a little bit odder.
"I'm making friends with the other girls on the track and field team, too. Jean Drew, Katie Davies, Betty Douglas, and Mary Crawford. None of them are as nice as Fanny or Lynde, but I think we'll make a good team. I'm the fastest runner, and Jean's the best at the long jump, and Mary, who helps her father with the fishing and is terrifically strong, is the best at throwing. Katie and Betty are very good all-around, and Betty is always making us laugh!
"The only other student I've gotten to know at all is Oliver Grant. He seems very nice, but we've only talked once or twice. I'm always getting nervous whenever I'm near him, which I suppose is because his father is the principal and his mother teaches my English class, and so I'm sure Oliver must be dreadfully clever. I never know how to talk to clever people—I'm always saying something stupid as soon as I want to sound impressive!
"Oliver's friendly toward everyone, though, so maybe he doesn't mind talking to stupid people. I would like to be his friend—if only I could get over blushing every time he looks at me!
"I know what you're going to say, Mums, but truly, I don't think I have a 'crush' on Oliver. I don't know, maybe I do, but I've never had one on any boy before so I don't know exactly how they're supposed to feel. Shouldn't I be more silly, though? I don't spend all my time thinking about him, and I don't plot out ways to meet him at school—usually I just try to avoid him, so that I don't make a fool of myself! I'm sure if you were here you could explain it all to me, but since you aren't, I'll just keep muddling through.
"I love you, heaps and crowds. Give my love to Dad, too, and you can read him all of this letter except for the bit about Oliver—I don't want him worrying. I haven't lost my head or my heart, really!
"I'm off to conjugate Latin now, and maybe then a chapter or two in my new book if I have time!
"Always yours,
"Gwen."