The Popsicle

I was hungry all the time. The hunger had nothing to do with how much I put in my stomach. Aunt Sarah managed to keep that full with eggs, quince, potatoes and collards. The hunger I felt was caused by a different kind of emptiness, but I used food to try to satisfy it. I ate all the time. I ate more than anyone in the house.

Aunt Sarah watched me sopping up cut up eggs with a biscuit and just shook her head. “I don’t know how a child can eat as much as Clara does and not gain an ounce.” Aunt Sarah was right. No matter how much I ate, I never gained an ounce. I could count my ribs. Not so with poor Ivy. She didn’t eat a tenth of what I did and she was as plump as a pigeon.

“The child must have a tape worm. She’s going to eat us out of house and home.” Mama was always complaining about how much I ate. The more she complained, the hungrier I felt. I ate in secret. I collected bottles and lugged them up to the store at the end of the road where I returned them for the deposit. I hoarded the nickels Aunt Sarah gave me for the collection plate. I even stole change from on top of Mama’s dresser. I used the small amounts of money I accumulated to buy myself treats.

I bought the banana Popsicle just before the bell rang. I don’t why I waited until recess was nearly over. When the bell rang I realized I wasn’t going to be able to finish my Popsicle so I hid it in the pocket of skirt and hurried back into the classroom. When I got to my desk I slipped the Popsicle out of her pocket and hid it under my desk – for later. I couldn’t bear to throw it away.
At one o’clock Mrs. Mason called my group to the front of the class for our reading lesson. “Bring your Think and Do books, children.”

I reached under my seat for the book and was found it covered with what was once my banana Popsicle.

“Hurry up, Clara. You’re keeping your group waiting.”

I walked up the aisle, holding my Think and Do book in front of me like a tray, trying to keep the banana puddle from falling onto the floor. I took my seat, resting the book on my lap. Maybe Mrs. Mason wouldn’t notice.

“Clara! What is that on your book?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Mason.”

“Is that a Popsicle stick? Why that looks like a melted banana Popsicle.”

“I guess it could be that, Mrs. Mason, maybe.”

“Did you put that Popsicle in your desk?” I didn’t answer. I could feel my eyes filling up with tears.

“Yes she did, Mrs. Mason. I saw her do it.” It was Sally Woodward – the class tattletale.
At that moment I would have given anything to be able to thump Sally on the head. I looked up at Mrs. Mason through my tears. The corners of Mrs. Mason’s mouth were sneaking up into a smile. Her eyes were smiling too. She got up and took the book from my lap, carried it carefully to her trashcan and allowed the goop to slide into the trash. Then she took her handkerchief from her pocket and wiped off the book before handing it back to me. “Okay class, let’s turn to page 14…. Clara, you read so beautifully. Would you like to start us off?”

Next to church, school was my favorite place. I loved the smell of new books and the pencils and paper that Mrs. Mason passed out. I was way ahead of the rest of the class when it came to reading. Aunt Pearl had taught me all the words in the Little Golden Library Books that she bought for me. I loved the hot lunches that were served in the school cafeteria. The only thing I didn’t enjoy was recess. I usually ended up standing alone waiting for the bell to ring. I just didn’t fit in.