Me and Fat Glenda by Lila Perl Page B

are different. People in Havenhurst are sort of old-fashioned and . . .well, straight. The same families have been living here for years. They don’t have a lot of new people from all over the country moving in and out all the time and changing things around the way they do in California. Havenhurst is more like . . . well, like Crestview, Ohio. Like when I lived with Aunt Minna.”
    â€œAh, I might have known it,” Inez said exasperatedly. “Crestview and Aunt Minna.”
    â€œHold on a minute, I,” Drew said to Mom. He’d been intently watching us both. “Did you ever notice that you’re about as antagonistic to Crestview and Aunt Minna as Havenhurst is to us? More, probably.”
    â€œOh that’s nonsense,” Inez retorted.
    â€œPop’s right” I said. “You are against them, and that’s why they watch us and act so picky, though really the garbage truck and the junk in the yard do look awful. This is a pretty-looking street. Or it was until we moved in.”
    Inez just glared at me.
    â€œDid you know,” I went on, “that they ran Madame Cecilia out of the neighborhood, not just because she was running a business but because she took in an Indian and some gypsies to live with her? And did you know that the reason they wanted to get this house condemned and torn down was because they were afraid that . . . well, afraid that the only people who would move into a dump like this would be. . .”
    Inez lifted her arm. “I know. Don’t tell me. Do youthink I can’t spot racially prejudiced people from a million miles away? What are you trying to say Sara, that we must conform to Havenhurst and not be ourselves anymore? Haven’t we taught you anything? Haven’t you any convictions at all? Don’t you even know what you believe in anymore?”
    â€œOf course I do,” I said angrily. “But I just don’t think people around here are as ready for changes as they are in some other places. Glenda understands because I explain things to her all the time. But most people around here only judge us from the way we dress, or the way we take care of the house and the yard, or something like that.”
    It was awfully quiet in the room. Mom just sat there at her loom with her hands in her lap.
    After a while Drew got up and went to the window again. “She’s right, I,” he said to Mom, without turning around. ‘I’ll pull that truck in the yard. Easy enough. Make a gate out of the section of fence I take down. Maybe build a shed for the junk materials, too. Won’t do them any good sitting out there with winter coming on.”
    I went over to the window and stood by Pop while he pointed out where he’d put the shed. “See, there along the side. Straighten the whole place up. Make it look more like a sculpture garden than a junkyard.”
    â€œOkay,” I heard Mom say very quietly and slowly, from what seemed like very far behind us. “Okay, move the truck off the street and have a shed. But some thingsstay as they are. My black ceiling does, for one.”
    Inez’ tone was brave but her voice sounded small. Like a little girl.
    â€œSure,” I said. “That stays.”
    I turned around and went and put her pretty dark head against my chest. She felt surprisingly limp against me. It just broke my heart that Roddy Fenton had called her a witch, after he saw her out in the yard with her dye pots. If she was a witch, she was probably the most beautiful witch in the whole world.

8
    A few weeks before Halloween something wonderful happened. We got a letter from Toby. It said: “The Gonzagas are moving back to Mexico around the first of the year. They’ve asked me to come with them but I think I should finish high school in the U.S. So how about if I come East and pick up the school year there right away?”
    How about that! Was I happy. Of course, Toby felt rotten about