A Knight in Shining Armor Read online

  Kim had had a lot of experience with older boys and she knew that they got you back. It didn’t take much to set them off, then you were in for it. They’d chase you, catch you, and pin your arm behind your back or pull your hair until you begged for mercy.

  When she saw the boy make a move as though he meant to get down, Kim took off running as fast as she could. Maybe there’d be enough time that she could reach what she knew was a great hiding place. She wedged her small body in between two piles of old bricks, crouched down, and waited for the boy to come after her.

  After what seemed like an hour of waiting, he didn’t show up, and her legs began to ache. Cautiously and quietly, she got out from the bricks and looked around. She fully expected him to leap out from behind a tree, yell, “I got you!” then bombard her with dirt.

  But nothing happened. The big garden was as still and quiet as always and there was no sign of the boy.

  She ran behind a tree, waited and listened, but she heard and saw nothing. She ran to another tree and waited. Nothing. It took her a long time before she got back to “her” tree and what she saw astonished her.

  Standing on the ground, just under her branch, was the boy. He was holding the book under his arm and seemed to be waiting.

  Was this some new boy trap that she’d never seen before? she wondered. Is this what foreign boys—meaning ones not from Edilean—did to girls who threw dirt at them? If she walked up to him, would he clobber her?

  As she watched him, she must have made a sound because he turned and looked at her.

  Kim jumped behind a tree, ready to protect herself from whatever came flying, but nothing did. After a few moments she decided to stop being a scaredy cat and stepped out into the open.

  Slowly, the boy started walking toward her and Kim got ready to run. She knew not to let boys who she’d thrown things at get too close. They prided themselves on the quickness of their throwing arms.

  She held her breath when he got close enough that she knew she’d not be able to get away.

  “I’m sorry I took your book,” he said softly. “Mr. Bertrand lent it to me so I didn’t know it belonged to anyone else. And I didn’t know about the tree being yours, either. I apologize.”

  She was so astonished she couldn’t speak. Her mother said that males didn’t know the meaning of the word “sorry.” But this one did. She took the book he was holding out to her and watched as he turned away and started back toward the house.

  He was halfway there before she could move. “Wait!” she called out and was shocked when he stopped walking. None of her boy cousins ever obeyed her.

  She walked up to him, the book firmly clutched against her chest. “Who are you?” she asked. If he’d said he was a visitor from another planet, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “Travis . . . Merritt,” he said. “My mother and I arrived late last night. Who are you?”

  “Kimberly Aldredge. My mother and I are staying in there”—she pointed—“while my father and brother go fishing in Montana.”

  He gave a nod as though what she’d said was very important. “My mother and I are staying there.” He pointed to the apartment on the other side of the big house. “My father is in Tokyo.”

  Kim had never heard of the place. “Do you live near here?”

  “Not in this state, no.”

  She was staring at him and thinking that he was very much like a doll, as he didn’t smile or even move very much.

  “I like the book,” he said. “I’ve never read anything like it before.”

  In her experience she didn’t know boys read anything they didn’t have to. Except her cousin Tris, but then he only read about sick people, so that didn’t count. What do you read?” she asked.

  “Textbooks.”

  She waited for him to add to that list but he just stood there in silence. “What do you read for fun?”

  He gave a slight frown. “I rather like the science textbooks.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  He seemed to realize that he needed to say more. “My father says that my education is very important, and my tutor—”

  “What’s that?”

  “The man who teaches me.”

  “Oh,” she said again, but had no idea what he was taking about.

  “I am home schooled,” he said. “I go to school inside my father’s house.”

  “That doesn’t sound like fun,” Kim said.

  For the first time, he gave a bit of a smile. “I can attest that it is no fun whatever.”

  Kim didn’t know what “attest” meant but she could guess. “I’m good at having fun,” she said in her most adult voice. “Would you like me to show you how?”

  “I’d like that very much,” he said. “Where do we begin?”

  She thought for a moment. “There’s a big pile of dirt in the back. I’ll show you how to ride my bike up it then race down. You can stick your hands and feet straight out. Come on!” she yelled and started running.

  But a moment later she looked back and he wasn’t there. She backtracked and he was standing just where she’d left him. “Are you afraid?” she asked tauntingly.

  “I don’t think so, but I’ve never ridden a bicycle before, and I think you’re too young to teach me.”

  She didn’t like being told she was “too young” to do anything. Now he was sounding like a boy. “Nobody teaches you how to ride a bike,” she said, knowing she was lying. Her dad had spent days holding her bike while she learned to balance.

  “All right,” he said solemnly. “I’ll try it.”

  The bike was too short for him and the first time he got on it, he fell off and landed on his face. He got up, spitting dirt out of his mouth, and Kim watched him. Was he one of those boys who’d go crying to his mother?

  Instead, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then gave a grin that nearly split his face in half. “Huzzah!” he said and got back on the bike.

  By lunchtime he was riding down the hill faster than Kim had ever dared, and he jerked the front wheel upward as though he were going over a jump.

  “How’d I do?” he asked Kim after his fastest slide down the dirt hill. He didn’t look like the same boy she’d first seen. His shirt was torn at the shoulder and he was filthy from head to toe. There was a bruise forming on his cheek where he’d nearly crashed into a tree, but he’d pulled to the left and only grazed it. Even his teeth were dirty.

  Before Kim could answer, he looked over her head and stiffened into the boy she’d first seen. “Mother,” he said.

  Kim turned to see a small woman standing there. She was pretty in a motherly sort of way, but whereas Travis had pink in his cheeks, she had none. She was like a washed out, older, female version of him.

  Without saying a word, she walked to stand between the two children and looked her son up and down.

  Kim held her breath. If the woman told Kim’s mom that she’d made Travis dirty, Kim would be punished.

  “You taught him to ride a bike?” Mrs. Merritt asked her.

  Travis stepped in front of Kim, as though to protect her. “Mother, she’s just a little girl. I taught myself to ride. I’ll go and wash.” He took a step toward the house.

  “No!” Mrs. Merritt said and he looked back at her. She went to him and put her arms around him. “I’ve never seen you look better.” She kissed his cheek, then smiled as she wiped dirt off her lips. She turned to Kim. “You, young lady . . .” she began, but stopped. Bending, she hugged Kim. “You are a truly marvelous child. Thank you!”

  Kim looked up at the woman in wonder.

  “You kids go back to playing. How about if I bring a picnic lunch out here for you two? Do you like chocolate cake?”

  “Yes,” Kim said.

  Mrs. Merritt took two steps toward the house before Kim called out. “He needs his own bike.”

  Mrs. Merritt looked back and Kim swallowed. She’d never before given an adult an order. “He . . .” Kim said more quietly. “My bike is too sma