When I got back to school after New Years, I had a surprise. There on the playground was the same lanky, freckled girl I had known two years before.
“Penny!”
I
yelled.
She looked toward me. “Ariel!”
I ran up to her. “What are you doing here? Are you staying?”
“Yeah. We just moved into town.”
“You must be in the 3rd grade now!” I said. “That’s where I was just after our Teacher left.”
“You remember him too?” she asked.
“I didn’t much until last summer. I was so hurt and angry about what happened to our class that I just hid my feelings from everybody. But I’m starting to do things and learn things again.” I told her about the rings and stuff I did at the park.
“Wow!” she said. “That sounds neat. Do you think maybe you and me could do things together?”
“Sure! Would you really like to?”
“I sure would! You were his best student, and if I could learn things from you, it would be great!”
At lunch time, I talked to the friends I always ate lunch with, Nancy and everybody. I told them I had a special friend I wanted to eat with, but she was in the 3rd grade. At our school, anyone could sit anywhere during lunch, but most kids sat with their friends in the same grade. I had learned well that age
didn’t matter — it was who you were that counted. I remembered Penny at five doing things a 10-year-old boy wouldn’t do. As Nancy and Anna and everybody looked at each other, I decided for sure that I was going to be Penny’s friend and sit with her, no matter what.
I looked at my friends. They all had scowls on their faces. I was mad. I was getting hot and sweaty. I could feel my courage building.
“Okay you guys, I really like you all.” I was starting to cry. “But with Penny I’ve been through rain and cold and mud. I thought I was going to die once, and she was there for me. There’s no way I could not be her friend!” I grabbed my tray and went over to the 3rd grade table.
After that, Penny and I were inseparable. I had lost five friends and gained one, and I was ahead. For weeks and weeks we played together and talked at lunch about all the things we had done three years before with our Teacher.
About the end of February, I started sharing with her some of the stranger stuff I was doing. I told her about calligraphy. I hadn’t done much since Christmas, but it only took me an hour of practice to get going again.
“I could teach you, but it takes a lot of practice, and if you really wanted to get good, you would have to get your own pens and ink.”
“I don’t think my mom would let me right now,” Penny said, looking sad.
“Yeah. Well, you can always use mine at school, and at my house.”
Penny brightened. “I’d like to learn it.”
I put my arm around her. “I’ll help you learn it as much as you want.”
She smiled at me. “Thanks, Ariel.”
Little by little, I started telling Penny about the Druids, and magic, and witches, and other things I was learning about. I made her promise to keep it all secret. She listened to me wide-eyed during recess when no one else could hear us. We didn’t talk about secret things at lunch — too many other ears at the same table. I still sat with her at the 3rd grade table, or we would both sit at the outcasts table, which didn’t bother us.
I wasn’t in any of the 5th grade circles of friends anymore. I didn’t want to be. I was having too much fun with Penny. She was more like me than any of my old friends. And I even found that some of the outcasts and loners were more fun to talk to than super-popular Nancy.
Not too long after that, I showed Penny my book. I had started a new page with special words on it, and what they meant.
Druid - Celtic priests, prophets, and bards wisdom - making the best use of knowledge and experience Artemis - goddess of the hunt
Athena - goddess of wisdom
Beltane - May eve, bonfires, blessing of fields and cattle magic circle - 9 foot circle for rituals
moral - what God would want us to do, the right thing Grimoire - book of magic spells and other secret things
“This stuff is neat, Ariel! Could I learn it too? Could I be your helper, maybe? If you’re going to be a magician, you’ll need an assistant, won’t you?”
We were on top of the monkey bars. I looked at my eight-year-old friend.
“Only if we make a pact,” I said.
“What kind of a pact?”
“First, to secrecy. Both of us have to keep secret what we learn and do. A lot of people don’t like magic stuff.”
“I know!” Penny said. “My mom would die. But I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“And also a pact of honesty. If I ever say something and you think it is wrong, you’ll tell me. Okay?”
“Okay. Even though you’re the teacher?”
“Even!” I said. “Remember, our Teacher could say things like I was wrong about that. I never hear other grown-ups say those words.”
Penny nodded with wide eyes.
“And if we ever quit being friends, you won’t tell anyone I taught you this stuff.”
“Okay. How do we make a pact?”
I thought for a minute. “I’ll write the pact in my book, and Saturday when you came over, we’ll both sign it, using our own blood!”