Leo the Lioness Read Free

wouldn’t have tried it if they’d been eggs.”
    â€œI’d hate to put any money on it,” my mother said.
    â€œTibb,” she said while we were putting the groceries away, “you’re getting awfully leggy.”
    â€œYeah,” I said. “I’m getting pretty army, too.”
    That is true. My arms seem to be getting longer and longer. I am really a little worried about them. Suppose they keep on growing until they hit the ground? What then? If I were friends with Nina and Jen, I would ask them if they thought my arms were getting unnaturally long. But I am not friends with them and my other good friends have gone away for the summer. I have this friend — Susan Friend is her name (would you believe it?) — and her father and mother took her to Europe this summer. She does not speak a foreign language. She has taken French for about a billion years but she can hardly ask for a pencil or say Bonjour , so you just know she won’t be able to communicate. Anyway, she was practically in a catatonic state about the whole thing. Catatonic is one of the words I have just discovered and use with some frequency, mostly because it drives Nina up the wall. She pretends that she knows what it means and that it is not worthy of her attention, but I know when I say somebody is in a catatonic state, she grits her teeth and wants to smack me. For some reason, this gives me a great deal of pleasure.
    I got a post card from Susan the other day from Rome. She wrote: “There are a lot of cathedrals here. Also there seem to be a great many Italians. See ya, Sue.”
    I read it a couple of times. Susan is the kind of person that, when she says something like that, you don’t know whether she is putting you on or whether she actually finds it strange that there are a lot of Italians in Rome. We have been friends for ages but she is not all that bright. I find when you have friends for a long time, you find other qualities in them which make up for lack of brains. Susan is a Virgo, having been born the twenty-third of August, which means she just missed being a Leo. I would never say it to her, of course, but I secretly feel that this one day might have made all the difference.
    â€œMom,” I said when we finally finished our job and she was making up a list of all the things she’d forgotten at the store, “I think I’m finally there.”
    â€œWhere?” she asked.
    â€œWhere the brook and the river meet,” I said.
    About two years ago, when Nina first became difficult, my mother said that Nina was where the brook and the river met and we would all have to be patient. At that time I was not sure what she meant but now I have figured it out. At that time, also, I hoped that I would never get to that spot because I might get washed away. I thought that was pretty good, but I kept it to myself. Sometimes it is best to keep your witticisms to yourself until the appropriate time comes.
    This was the appropriate time.
    â€œOh, dear,” my mother said.
    â€œYes,” I said, “I fear that I am there. I just hope I don’t get washed away.”
    My mother looked at me.
    â€œIs that original?” she asked.
    â€œYes,” I said. “I thought of it just now.” I added that white lie because it made the story better.
    â€œYou won’t,” she said, patting my cheek. “You won’t. It may be quite a swim, but I have faith in you.”
    â€œSo do I,” John said from under his hat. He goes to this Y day camp where they teach him to make lanyards. He has so many lanyards around his neck he can hardly walk.
    For some reason I felt quite happy.

6.
    â€œHow was your date?” I asked Jen. She had come over to return a lasagna pan her mother had borrowed from mine. It was the first time I’d seen her since she’d changed her name. I avoided calling her anything.
    Jen flicked her eyelashes at me. She had forgotten