Fortune's Magic Farm by Suzanne Selfors (i read book .TXT) 📗

“More?” Mama Lu waddled back to the parlor. “Do tell, Gertie.”

“Do you know that boy who lives with his father on Dripping Alley? The ugly boy with the birthmark on his cheek? He came home with an apple too. I know because my boyfriend, Earl Hench, saw him carrying it and confiscated it on account of it was stolen.”

Isabelle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Leonard was the only boy in Runny Cove with a birthmark on his cheek. He sat at lunch break with Gwen and Isabelle. Being the only ten-year-olds in the factory, they tended to stick together. “He said that he was walking home when he saw an orange cat sleeping in the alley. When he tried to catch the cat it ran off but guess what it had been sleeping on?”

The tenants looked at one another and silently mouthed, an apple.

“Well? Can you guess?” Gertrude asked.

“Course I can guess. I’m not stupid.” Mama Lu cleared her throat. “But… but ya go ahead and tell me anyway.”

“He told Earl Hench, my boyfriend, that the cat had been sleeping on the apple. I think it’s another lie.”

“ ’Course it’s a lie. There ain’t no cats in Runny Cove, haven’t been since I was a girl.”

“She’s right,” Mr. Wormbottom whispered. “No cats since I was a boy.”

Isabelle had never seen a cat, but she knew what they looked like because her grandmother had described them. Three apples to three friends on the same day. Nothing this exciting had happened in Runny Cove since Mr. Philbert had gotten lost in the fog. Talk about interesting.

“I think they’re conspiring,” Gertrude stated. “Starting up a ring of thieves, that’s what I think. First it’s apples, then it’s our jewelry, then it’s your cheese.”

“My cheese?”

Isabelle wanted to shout out, You’re wrong! But such a statement would result in some kind of terrible punishment. Who cared what Gertrude Bolt and Mama Lu thought, anyway? Isabelle knew that her friends weren’t thieves. She could hardly wait to see them at the factory tomorrow so they could share their stories. How slowly the night would pass.

Gertrude had more to say. “But when my boyfriend, Earl Hench, tried to take a bite of the apple, it turned all black and powdery like fireplace ashes. But the one I took from Gwen is good, all shiny and red.”

“You know, Gertie,” Mama Lu said greedily, “why don’t ya go and get it and we’ll bake it here. Nothing better than a baked apple, all golden and juicy.”

Isabelle clenched her fists. That wasn’t fair. Gwen should get to eat the apple. The landladies had more food than they needed. She’d definitely save some of her apple for her friends and give it to them at the factory tomorrow.

“Finish yer dinners!” Mama Lu hollered, sticking her dyed head back into the kitchen. No tenant was allowed to linger at the table after dinner or mingle in the parlor, so they wandered off to their rooms.

Isabelle was eager to get upstairs. She took a tray from the counter, then ladled the last bit of soup into a bowl and placed it onto the tray. She grabbed the last roll and spoon and placed them onto the tray as well. The front door creaked open. “Hurry back with yer apple,” Mama Lu called. The front door closed. Isabelle moved quickly, filling a jug with tap water. After making certain that the apple was secure under her waistband, she picked up the tray and headed toward the stairs, but found Mama Lu blocking her path.

“Stop right there, Miss I’m So Special. What do ya know about them apples?” Her breath was as sharp as her cheddar dinner.

A cough tickled Isabelle’s chest but she held it back. One cough and the apple might drop. Holding the tray over her hidden treasure, she smiled sweetly. “I don’t know anything.”

“But they’re yer friends, ain’t they?” Mama Lu adjusted her bathrobe’s belt. “I seen ya walking with that runny-nosed girl every morning. And I seen ya talking to that ugly-faced boy. What do ya know? Ya been stealing apples too?”

“No.” The apple slipped a bit. Isabelle pushed out her tummy to trap it against the waistband. But, unlike Mama Lu, Isabelle’s tummy was as flat as a factory conveyor belt. The apple slipped again. If it rolled down her pant leg she’d be in big trouble. She tried to step around her landlady.

“Not so fast. What was ya doing with a bottle of dirty water in yer slicker?” Mama Lu asked, holding up Isabelle’s bottle.

Isabelle couldn’t tell her the real reason she had collected the seawater, the reason she had been collecting it each week for the past few months. She’d get punished if Mama Lu knew what the water was for. So she lied. “It’s salty. I keep it in my room to pour on slugs if they try to get in through the window.”

“Oh.” Mama Lu scowled, her eyebrows knotting into a single bushy clump.

The hidden apple slipped a bit more. “Please, Mama Lu. My grandma needs her supper.”

Mama Lu plunked the bottle of water onto the tray. “Yer granny had better get out of that bed soon. This ain’t no hospital, ya know. She’s lazy, that’s what she is.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and glared at Mama Lu. “She’s sick, not lazy. And I pay the rent, don’t I?” She immediately regretted her bitter tone, but Mama Lu had made her so mad she wanted to dump the seawater all over the landlady’s swollen head.

“Ya’d better keep paying if ya want to keep that room.”

Gertrude rushed back into the house, cradling Gwen’s apple as if it were a precious infant. Mama Lu pushed Isabelle aside. As the landladies greedily smacked their lips and headed into the kitchen, Isabelle started up the stairs that led to the second floor. But halfway up she couldn’t hold back the cough any longer. With the expelled breath, the apple rolled