Shoeshine Girl by Clyde Robert Bulla Page A

“and you weren’t making things easy for her. She and your father thought it would be better if you came here for a while.”
    â€œThat’s their story,” said Sarah Ida.
    â€œDo you want to tell yours?”
    â€œNot especially. I don’t think you’d listen.”
    â€œYou could try and see.”
    â€œWell—” Sarah Ida began. “For a long time nobody cared what I did. Nobody paid any attention. Then all at once everything changed. Mother asked a million questions about everything I did. And my clothes weren’t right, and my friends weren’t right. I couldn’t do this—I couldn’t do that.”
    â€œYou say everything changed all at once,” said Aunt Claudia. “Why was that?”
    Sarah Ida looked away.
    â€œYou had a friend named Midge, didn’t you?” said Aunt Claudia. “And Midge got into trouble. The way I heard it, she was taking a dress out of a store. It was a dress she hadn’t paid for.”
    â€œShe wasn’t stealing,” said Sarah Ida.
    â€œWhat do you call it?” asked Aunt Claudia.
    â€œShe was just trying to see if she could get it out of the store. It was like—it was like a game. Anyway, what does it have to do with me?”
    â€œMaybe nothing,” said Aunt Claudia. “But she was a good friend of yours. If you’d been with her when she took the dress, you might have been in trouble, too. Maybe that’s why your father and mother started to worry about you.”
    â€œThey started to worry about me because they don’t trust me,” said Sarah Ida.
    Aunt Claudia asked, “Do you always give them reason to trust you?”
    â€œIt’s easy to see whose side you’re on,” said Sarah Ida.
    Aunt Claudia stood up. “I’d better start dinner. Put your things away if you want to. Or you can rest a while.”
    She went downstairs.
    Sarah Ida put her feet on the bed. She was tired . But if she lay here alone in this strange room, she might start crying. And crying wouldn’t help.
    She got up. She opened her suitcase and began to unpack.

Rossi
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    In the morning Sarah Ida put on an old shirt and her oldest blue jeans. She went down into the kitchen.
    Aunt Claudia was there, frying bacon and eggs. “Good morning,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
    â€œYes,” said Sarah Ida.
    â€œThere’s apple jelly and plum jam. Which would you like with your toast?”
    â€œNeither one.”
    They sat down to breakfast. Aunt Claudia said, “You’re going to have company.”
    â€œWho?” asked Sarah Ida.
    â€œRossi Wigginhorn.”
    Sarah Ida frowned. “I don’t know any Rossi Wigginhorn.”
    â€œShe’s a neighbor,” said Aunt Claudia. “She’s been wanting to meet you.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI told her you were coming. I thought it would be nice if you had a friend your own age.”
    â€œDid you ever think,” said Sarah Ida, “that I might like to choose my friends?”
    â€œI like to choose my friends, too,” said Aunt Claudia. “But when you’re in a new place and haven’t had a chance to meet anybody—”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” said Sarah Ida, “whether I meet anybody or not.”
    They finished breakfast.
    Aunt Claudia asked, “Can you cook?”
    â€œNo,” said Sarah Ida.
    â€œWould you like to learn?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAt least, you’d better learn to make your own breakfast,” said Aunt Claudia. “It’s something you might need to know. And there are things you can do to help me. I’ll teach you to take care of your room, and you can help me with the cleaning and dusting.”
    â€œHow much do you pay?” asked Sarah Ida.
    Aunt Claudia stared at her. “Pay?”
    â€œMoney,” said Sarah Ida. “How much money?”
    Aunt Claudia took the dishes to