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real people. Why didn't the wife call the beach patrol before? Why did she wait till morning?”
    Caroline thought about that a moment. “Because I wanted her to discover that the line was dead at the end of act one, and that would be the next morning.”
    “Well, why wouldn't she go downstairs as soon as she heard her husband scream, then?”
    “Because I'm saving that for act two,” said Caroline.
    “Well,” said Wally. “Like I said, so far it stinks, but maybe the next act will be better.”
    Caroline sighed. “Maybe I'm a better actress than I am a playwright. But I wanted to write a play with a part especially for me.”
    “So does Nancy die a horrible death in the end? That would be a good part for you,” said Wally.
    “I can't give away the ending,” said Caroline.
    “Who's going to play the part of Jim?” asked Wally, and when Caroline just looked at him and smiled, he said, “No!”
    “That's okay,” said Caroline. “When I've finished it, it will be so good that every boy in school will want to play the part of Jim.”
    “Name one,” said Wally.
    Caroline thought some more. “Well, Peter, maybe.”
    Wally laughed out loud, and Caroline smiled a little too. “Just wait, Wally,” she said. “Someday you will see my name in lights on Broadway and you'll be proud to say you knew me when I was just a little girl.”

Six
Scavenger Hunt
    G irls,” Mrs. Malloy called up the stairs when the girls got home from school the following Wednesday. “When you finish your homework, will you take a half hour or so to check your rooms and see if you have anything—any
nice
thing—that we could donate to Ellen Hatford for the yard sale?”
    “Like what?” asked Eddie.
    “Oh, maybe a shirt you haven't worn much. Belts, jewelry, anything at all that might catch someone's eye. I've put a box in the hall up there for your things. But don't give away anything with holes in it. We'll put things like that in the rag bag, and I can use them around the house.”
    Eddie was the most generous when it came to giveaways. She stood at her closet door, sliding hangers from left to right. For each item she said either a soft yes or no. A yes meant it could be given away, and shewould yank it off the hanger and throw it onto her bed. A no meant it was a keeper. To Caroline, it seemed as though Eddie had no second thoughts. No sentimental attachments. And when she had finished her closet, she started on her dresser drawers.
    Beth was more of a problem, especially with books. Asking Beth to get rid of a book was about like asking Mrs. Malloy to get rid of a daughter. But Caroline was the absolute worst, and she knew it. Caroline, it seemed, could get rid of nothing, because every object, every item of clothing, every old sneaker, in fact, was something that she might, someday, in middle school or high school, be able to use as a prop in a play. It might be just the right necklace for the part, or the right music box, or even the perfect motheaten sweater for an orphaned child to wear onstage. When Mrs. Malloy came upstairs later to see how the girls were doing, she found a box full of Eddie's things, only a jacket from Beth, and nothing at all from Caroline.
    Caroline sat on her bed, surrounded by things her mother thought she'd parted with years before, mistyeyed and clutching each one to her in turn.
    “Good grief,” said Mrs. Malloy. “I'm not asking you to sacrifice body parts, Caroline. If you haven't made use of something since first grade, let it go, for heaven's sake.”
    And so a little doll in a Swiss costume was donated to the sale, a
Bambi
video, a pair of patent leather shoes that were a size too small, and a wool cap.
    “We're not supposed to take things over to the Hat-fords’ yet, so we'll keep them here until the night before the sale,” Mrs. Malloy said. “But this will save us some work later if we move back to Ohio.”
    “
Will
we go back, Mother?” Beth asked.
    “I wish I knew! One day your