OCR Text |
Show 24 congratulated herself on how observant she was becoming. Like Simpson had said in class, "Attention to detail! Let nothing escape you!" That's why she'd been so excited all day, she remembered with a jolt. Tonight she was going to start her journal! With Gram and company at the kitchen table, she'd have the front room all to herself. Dyna had always loved writing in diaries, but keeping a journal now would be even better. She could write serious, mature stuff. Poetry, descriptions, conversations. No lie, she had plenty to write about. If the truth was too true, when it came right down to it, she'd fictionalize. How could that hurt? "Experiment with the language," the textbook said, "probe, explore . . ." The coffee perked an extra minute or two as Dyna probed. She'd begin her journal with Oscar. With today. She'd describe how he looked, how he smelled, how pitiful small he seemed when they finally got him on his feet. Dyna poured the coffee into a heavy mug. He'd better come around, she agreed with Gram, or he'd spoil everything tonight! By the time the two old mums appeared at the door that evening, rattling the screen with their genteel knocking, Oscar was up and settled on the couch. Wearing Gram's long Johns, Grandpa's robe, and Dyna's slipper sox, he looked exactly like a poster for a United Way fund drive. Gram had combed his hair, parting it a little too high, Dyna noticed, trying not to laugh as she adjusted the pillows around him. His own clothes, washed and disinfected, were draped over the hot water heater downstairs. "You feeling any better?" Dyna asked as she sat down beside him, suddenly tender. In the burgundy robe, he looked exactly like Grandpa Suggs. But Oscar was worried more about appearances than how he felt* His eyes darted past her as he motioned toward the front door. "Don't tell them-" "Oh, I won't, honest," Aunt Grace was already in and across the room, her face full of concern. Miss Mary was close behind, making her whispery noises at her |