More Adventures Of The Great Brain (4 page)

   
Sammy laughed a .cruel laugh. “Britches Dotty can’t read or write,” he shouted. “Britches Dotty is dumb, dumb,
dumb
.”

Then all the kids except Tom and me and Basil began to shout: “Britches Dotty is dumb, dumb,
dumb
!” Sammy was the worst of all, stepping right up close to her and shouting the insult right in her face. She pushed him away.

   
“You stop makin’ fun of me, or you’ll be sorry,” she said with a wild look in her blue eyes.

“Sorry about what?” Sammy taunted her.

   
“About this!”
Dotty shouted, as she hauled off and punched Sammy right on the nose so hard it began to bleed.

   
All the girls began insulting Sammy, because they had never seen a girl fight a boy.

   
Marie Vinson shouted, “Sammy got a bloody nose from a girl!”

   
As if by signal, all the girls began to shout, “Sammy got whipped by a girl! Sammy got whipped by a girl!”

   
Sammy wiped the blood from his nose with his handkerchief. He looked angry enough to explode. “If you
wasn’t
a girl, I’d beat the tar out of you,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I ain’t afraid to fight you,” Dotty said.

   
That was all Sammy needed. He doubled up his fists and began throwing punches at Dotty, who fought just like a boy and punched him right back.

   
The kids began to scream and shout. This brought Mr. Standish out of the schoolhouse. Tom ran to meet the teacher with me following.

   
“Please let them fight,” Tom pleaded. “If Dotty whips Sammy, all the other kids will leave her alone.”

   
Mr. Standish thought about it for a moment and then went back into the schoolhouse.

   
By the time Tom and I got back to the fight, Sammy and Dotty were in a clinch. I watched bug-eyed as Dotty wrestled Sammy to the ground and pinned him with her knees on his arms. She pasted him good a few times on the face. Then she scooped up a handful of dirt.

“Had ‘
nuff
?” she asked.

Poor old Sammy knew he was beat. “I give up,” he said.

   
“Then eat dirt,” Dotty shouted, as she pushed the handful of dirt into Sammy’s mouth.

   
It was one of the worst humiliations a fellow could suffer. Sammy began to gag and spit dirt and blood from his mouth as Dotty got up. And boy, did she have a wild look as she stared at the kids.

   
“The next one who makes fun of me, I’ll fight and make eat dirt—boy or girl,” she threatened.

   
All the kids backed away from Dotty with scared looks. Just then Mr. Standish rang the bell ending recess.

   
Dotty’s first day in school must have been enough to make Mr. Standish wish he’d never become a teacher. He tried several times to get Dotty learning her ABC’s, but she just sat with her arms folded and wouldn’t say a word.

   
“Wouldn’t you like to learn to read and write like the other pupils?” he asked.

   
“Nope,” Dotty answered, speaking for the first time that afternoon.

   
“Wouldn’t you like to learn something about the history of our great country?” Mr. Standish asked.

“Nope,” Dotty said.

   
“Wouldn’t you like to learn how to add and subtract and multiply figures?” Mr. Standish asked.

   
“Nope,” Dotty said. “My pa told me I gotta come here ‘cause it’s the law, but he didn’t say I gotta learn anything.”

   
Mr. Standish threw up his hands. “Is there anything you do like?” he asked.

“Horses,” Dotty said. “I like horses.”

   
That evening after supper Tom and I did our homework on the dining-room table and then went into the parlor to play a game or two of dominoes before going to bed.

   
Papa laid aside his book. “How did Dotty Blake’s first day in school go?” he asked.

   
Mamma dropped her embroidery work in her lap. “It was a disaster,” she said.
“A complete disaster.”

   
Tom and I had told Mamma all about it when we had come home from school. Tom repeated the story for Papa.

   
“That girl is going to get an education some way,” Mamma said with a determined look on her face.

   
Tom looked at Mamma with surprise. “You can’t make anybody do something they don’t want to do,” he said. “Mr. Standish tried real hard, but it didn’t do any good.”

   
Mamma stared hard at Tom as if she’d never seen him before, and then to my astonishment, she smiled. “Maybe I can’t but you can,” she said. “I am sure your great brain can make that girl want to get an education, and want to look and
act like
a girl.”

   
Tom thought about it and slowly nodded his head. “Maybe I could use my great brain to solve the problem,” he said. Then that conniving look came into his eyes. “How much would it be worth to you and Papa? Maybe we can make a deal.”

   
Mamma laid her embroidery on a table and stood up. She placed her hands on her hips and addressed Tom by his full name, which meant she was plenty angry.

   
“We will make a deal all right, Tom Dennis,” she said sternly. “Your father and I aren’t exactly stupid. We know you deceived us into getting you a bicycle for Christmas by pretending you’d reformed. The bicycle goes up into the attic immediately and stays there until Dotty Blake wants to get an education and starts wearing dresses. Now put your great brain to work on that.”

   
Tom’s mouth fell open as if Mamma had just told him to pack his things and leave home and never come back. “But that isn’t fair,” he protested.

   
“It is just as fair as you pretending you’d reformed,” Mamma said. “And I’m sure your father will back me up.”

“I second the motion,” Papa said, nodding his head.

   
I sure felt sorry for my brother. For the first time in his life he looked as if he wished he hadn’t been born with a great brain.

   
“The first thing you must do,” Mamma said, “is to make Dotty want to learn how to read and write. This will also involve getting her father’s consent. You can begin by teaching her the ABC’s as you taught John D. before he started school.”

   
The look of despair disappeared from Tom’s face. “You mean if I teach her the ABC’s, I get my bike back?”

   
“Not quite,” Mamma said. “You will also teach her how to spell simple words and identify them until she can read simple sentences from
Guffey’s
Reader.”

   
“And I think,” Papa said, “that Dotty should be able to count and write the numerals from one to twenty-five before you get your bicycle back. You will, of course, have the help of Mr. Standish.”

   
Tom held out his arms in a pleading gesture. “You are both asking for a miracle,” he protested.

“Then let your great brain perform one,” Mamma said.

   
“We are going to follow Dotty,” Tom said to me the next day on the way home from school.

It seemed like a silly thing to do, but I was so curious I didn’t ask any questions. We followed Dotty down Main Street. Then we saw her turn suddenly and run behind the Community Church.

“What is she doing?” I asked.

“Shut up and follow me,” Tom said.

   
We sneaked down the side of the Community Church. Tom peeked around the corner.

“Just as I expected,” he whispered.

   
I wanted to know what he expected, so I peeked around the corner. I saw Dotty sitting on the ground with her back against the rear of the building. She had her knees doubled up and her head cradled in her arms. Her shoulders were shaking, and she was crying.

   
“She isn’t a wild creature like Papa said,” Tom whispered. “Wild creatures don’t cry. That makes it easier.”

“Easier for what?”
I asked, completely puzzled.

   
“To get my bike out of the attic,” Tom said. “Now back to Main Street.”

   
Dotty came out of the alley and began to whistle as she walked across the street and down the other side.

   
“I don’t get it,” I said. “First she cries and now she’s acting happy as a bird.”

   
“That is because she doesn’t want her father to know,” Tom said.

   
Tom put his great brain to work but didn’t tell me anything until Saturday afternoon. I went with him to our barn, where he saddled up Dusty.

“Are we going for a ride?” I asked.

   
“You can’t come,” Tom said. “I am going to put the first part of my great brain’s plan into operation.”

Tom saw Dotty pulling weeds in the front yard of the adobe house. He rode Dusty at a gallop until he got in front of the house. He got off the mustang where Dotty couldn’t see him and unloosened the cinch on the saddle.

   
“Mind helping me?” he called to her. “Dusty always blows up his belly when I saddle him so the cinch won’t be too tight. I’m afraid to ride him at a gallop.”

   
It was a lie, but Dotty didn’t know. She came through the front gate. She talked softly to Dusty and rubbed his nose. “I’ll get his mind off it,” she said.

   
Tom pulled the cinch tight and fastened the buckle. “Thanks,” he said. “The cinch is good and tight now.”

   
“He’s a beautiful mustang,” Dotty said as she patted Dusty on the neck.

“Like to ride him?”
Tom asked.

   
Dotty smiled for the first time since Tom had known her. “I’d love to,” she said.

   
Her blue eyes were bright as she dismounted from Dusty. “He sure is a well-gaited horse,” she said.

“You know a lot about horses, don’t you,” Tom said.

   
“I should,” she said. “I was raised with them. I just love horses. They are the only friends I ever had except a dog we had once.”

   
“You don’t like it here in Adenville, do you?” Tom asked.

   
“I hate it,” Dotty said with her blue eyes cold as steel. “Pa and
me
ain’t free anymore. He has to work all day in that shop, where I know he’s
dyin
‘ inside. I gotta go to school.
Me
and Pa don’t belong here.”

   
“But you are here,” Tom said, “and should try to make the best of it. I’ll be your friend if you let me. And if you do, I’ll let you ride Dusty every Saturday afternoon. Not just a short ride like today but a good long ride.”

That night after supper Tom made his announcement. “I made friends with Dotty Blake today,” he said.

   
Papa stopped reading a book. Aunt Bertha stopped darning socks. Mamma stopped knitting.

   
“Thank the Lord,” Mamma said. “At least the poor thing has one friend.”

   
“She is not a poor thing,” Tom said with rebuke in his voice. “She is just a kid who never had a chance to be friends with anybody but horses. That is how I made friends with her. I let her ride Dusty this afternoon.”

“How is it going in school for her?” Papa asked.

   
“She won’t learn anything,” Tom said. “She just sits there and refuses to try no matter how patient Mr. Standish is. But don’t worry, Papa, my great brain is working on it.”

   
“In that case,” Papa said, smiling at Mamma, “we have nothing to worry about.”

   
Tom took immediate advantage of this. “Of course, my great brain would work faster and better if there was some kind of reward in it for me,” he said.

   
“You will get two rewards,” Mamma said. “First, you will get your bicycle back, and second, you will get the best reward a person can get, in helping another person who needs help.”

   
From the look on Tom’s face I could tell he didn’t think that was much of a reward.

   
Tom and I were the only kids in school who talked to Dotty during morning and afternoon recess. I was as embarrassed as all get out, because if there was one thing a fellow didn’t do in Adenville, it was to have anything to do with girls. But it didn’t seem to bother Tom. Monday after school he walked part way home with Dotty, while I tagged along behind. We stopped in front of our house.

   
“Come over tonight after supper,” Tom said, “and I’ll show you a picture of the most beautiful horse you’ve ever seen. His name is Black Beauty.”

“I’ll ask Pa,” Dotty promised, and then she left us.