A Hole in My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

cold voice, “Proper girls do not use words like that.”
    â€œLike what?” I asked.
    She cleared her throat. Her voice came out raspy. “Words referring to our bodies and private matters.”
    My doctor dad uses all sorts of words. I kind of know you don’t go around saying penis and vagina and breast in public, but I’m really not sure what’s wrong with pregnant. Isn’t that how we all got here? Anyway, that tells you something about Mrs. Taylor.
    The point of all this is that Fluffy/Carmody is going to have kittens really soon. I would like to be there when she has them, but I haven’t asked Mrs. Taylor. I don’t think she’d be for it, given I have to be protected even from words like pregnant. But I figure my odds for being present for the birth are much higher if I go to the Taylors’ really often. The cat bed is on the outside back porch so that’s easy.
    Today there’s another girl next door. She’s Mrs. Taylor’s niece and she’s nine. Her name is Stella. We sit on the porch. First I pat Carmody, then she pats Carmody. The cat purrs warm and soft. We purr too, a human-type purr. Stella tells me about her big bossy sister, Lori. I tell her my big sisters are bossy too. I don’t tell her about Mum. And she doesn’t ask.
    When I leave for home, Stella says, “Will you be here tomorrow?”
    â€œProbably.”
    â€œSee yah then.” It feels nice. Like I have a friend. But being only nine, she’s not a real friend.
I want new shoes
    I want a real friend
    I want to go back to Penticton
    â€¢ • •
    I open my autograph book:
To my best friend Nora,
    Out in the ocean
    On a little rock —
    Three little words
    â€œForget me not.”
    Love and good thoughts,
    Vicki Matthews
    Has she forgotten me already?
    â€¢ • •
Penticton
    September 22, 1959
    Dear Nora,
    Thanks for your letter. I received it right after I mailed my last one. You still don’t sound happy. Why not? You get to be in the big city and not in this dump of a town. But then I wasn’t very happy in my last letter, if I remember correctly.
    I’ve changed my mind about Mrs. Cramer. She’s really unfair. In homeroom some of the guys are so stupid. And because of that she now jumps on all of us if we barely move. Her son (do you remember Billy Cramer?) is in my Math and Science classes and he’s weird or dumb or both. There must be something wrong — I mean really wrong — with him, the way he acts. Mind you, it must be awful to have your mother as a teacher, especially when kids don’t like her. Or at least I don’t.
    I play the guessing game with Dougie and Jack much more now that you’re not here. Tonight it was the planets and stars and moons and stuff from World Book . The boys are either really smart or have great memories. Miss Banks, Jack’s first-grade teacher (we had her too, remember?), stopped Mum downtown on Saturday. Apparently Miss Banks had pointed to the letter q over the blackboard at school and said it’s always followed by a u . Jack’s hand shot up. “What about Qatar?” Isn’t that a hoot? I bet her face was red. The boys and I had been looking at a map of the Middle East a few nights earlier. I think they’re going to be extra really smart because, with you not here, I have nothing to do but teach them things.
    I’m telling you a secret. A secret from Mum and Dad, that is. Everybody in the whole school almost knows, so I guess it isn’t a secret. I couldn’t get up the stairs at school today. You know the big stairs at the side of the building we always go into? Well, at about step four, I just knew I couldn’t get to the top. I was panting and my breathing was really shallow. It was scary. The principal and Miss Dale took my arms and helped me to the classroom. They tried to make me go to the nurse’s room but I said no . I knew they