Jude's Music

Twelve

I thought about the fact that on the day Mr. Pebble lost Sadie, Jude was plagued by some terrible pain, while on the day the old man had found a kitten, Jude's music was lighter. The blocks were beginning to form a pattern of some sort, and the words of Mrs. McBride along with my own conclusions reinforced the ideas I had about Jude. He was ill, like he'd said, but it was a different kind of sickness. Although I wasn't sure if it was truly possible for one boy to bear the sorrows of people whose names he didn't even know, I felt certain that this was what Jude Wood was experiencing.

For a few full days after my conversation with Mrs. McBride, I strained to think of what I could do to help Jude – because I did care about him. I did want him to get better. I wanted to find a cure. I put all schoolwork aside and kept to myself up in my bedroom. My mother had to argue with me to come downstairs for dinner. All I wanted to do was sit in the quiet and be alone with my mixed thoughts.

By the weekend, I felt as if I had come to some settlement. I left the house early Saturday morning and made my way toward the schoolyard. Jillian Lee had promised me the day before that she would meet me there, by the swings. She didn't know why I suddenly wanted to talk to her so often. I kept my ideas about Jude Wood entirely to myself. Jill didn't even know that I knew him.

The gray sky hung low again that morning. I hadn't seen sun since I'd arrived in Mosspond. I couldn't say that I was surprised; the sun wouldn't have felt right looking down over us . . . over me. The sun knew I didn't want to look at it. I couldn't think of any reason why the clouds should leave. Rain didn't bother me nearly so much as it did my sisters. They hated the gloomy weather like death. Every morning they complained about it, and every morning the newspaper predicted clouds and chances of rain. I, on the other hand, was waiting for a great rainfall. I wanted to see if Jillian could dance between the raindrops, like she'd said witches did.

When Jill met me that Saturday morning, I was pink in the cheeks from the cold. My hands were shoved in my coat pockets and my arms were stiff as lampposts. "Do you know anyone who's sad?" I asked Jill right when she arrived. The question may have been a strange greeting to an ordinary person, but she didn't seem to think it odd at all.

Jill thought hard, then answered me. "Joshua Brighton. He's failing math. I heard his mother talking with Sue about it yesterday. And Mr. Wiethop – his brother passed away from cancer last month. I'm sure he's still sad about that. Oh, and Grace Moore. She's still broken-hearted since Mr. West left. They used to be engaged. Also, I wonder if —"

"All right!" I stopped her. "That's more than enough to start with. Let's see what we can do for Joshua."

Jillian didn't question me. She didn't ask why I wanted to know who had reason to be unhappy, and she didn't seem curious as to why I suddenly wanted her assistance in cheering people up. That was why I was beginning to get along with her – she wasn't nosy like so many other kids would have been. She trusted that I knew what I was doing, just like I trusted her. We had no reason to doubt one another.

That morning was the beginning of my search for Jude's cure. In my brain, I knew the impossibility of my ideas, but inside my heart, I felt only hope.

The two of us spent nearly a week searching for help for Joshua Brighton. Jill had the idea of finding a tutor for him. She was sure his mother wasn't going to pay for one, so the trick was to find somebody who would help him for no charge. Eventually, after calling what seemed like hundreds of people who we knew were good at math, we discovered something spectacular. There was a man in town who was a retired high school math teacher. I learned from my sisters that he lived at 42 Argonne Street. When I told Jill what I'd learned, she lit up.

"That's Mr. Wiethop's house! Why didn't we think of this before?"

"Think of what?" I asked.

"Mr. Wiethop is lonely and would probably do well to have someone to talk to. Joshua Brighton needs someone to help him with math."