Kit Kittredge: An American Girl Page #4

- Oh, I hope we have a cat.|- I'm sure you have a cat.

Sorry, Ruthie. No cat.

But you do have fish bones, see?

- Oh, what's that mean?|- Good garbage.

So, what's it like riding the rails, Will?

Train whistles.

Engines smokes up,|and you run and you jump.

And you let it take you|to a whole new life.

- Makes a man feel free. Right, Countee?|- That's right.

So where's home, Will?

Uh...

texas.

We had a farm.|Crops failed two years in a row.

Daddy fought to keep it,|but when he couldn't...

...they headed out west with Belle|and Evelyn and my younger sisters.

They wanted me to go too...

...but I figured it was time for me|to strike out on my own...

...so I rode the rails, uh, made a few friends|and worked when I could.

That's when I met Countee and his father|in Oklahoma about 14 months ago.

Kind of stuck together after that.

- Called ourselves...|- "the three Musketeers."

- Ha, ha.|- Yes, we did.

And, um...

And then the influenza came.

And my daddy didn't make it.

Now it's just us.

Thank the good Lord I've got him.

Soon we're gonna make it out to California|and meet the rest of the family.

Are they gonna like me?

No.

I'm just playing. Come on, let's go.

Let's get going.

You know what that means?

Does it mean we're close?

That means we're near a hobo jungle.

What is a hobo, exactly?

A person who hops the rails,|going from town to town looking for work.

Like a lot of these folks right here.

Here it is. Home sweet home.

Come on.

Life inside a hobo jungle sure isn't easy.

These people once had houses and jobs.

I guess we're all just a few strokes|of bad luck away...

... from being in that exact same spot.

Eddie, down there.

Every day's a challenge for food.

In most camps,|hobos share what they have:

Vegetables, potatoes|and, on a good day, maybe meat.

Would you mind if I took|a couple pictures of you?

Of course you can.

They put it in a pot and cook it|all together and call it hobo stew.

- Those that can contribute do.|Did you get meat?

Those that can't|try harder the next day.

But everyone's welcome to share.

They even have a hobo store...

... where you leave what you don't want|and take what you do.

For the most part, they seem like|a trustworthy group of people.

But trouble must follow them a lot.

The first sign a hobo learns is danger.

They needed to protect themselves...

... and each other.

When times are tough,|people like to blame someone.

And hobos are an easy target, I guess.

Here we are.

Bedroom.

Uh, lounge.

Bathroom.

- Library.|Come on in.

You actually sleep here?|- Hi, doc.

Will.

How's that throat of Countee's?

- Oh, it's doing much better. Thank you.|- Good.

Robin Hood, huh?

Yeah.

Hey, uh...|Doc, what do you think about a person...

...who steals from the rich|and gives to the poor?

Is he a good guy or a bad guy?

I'd have to say a good one.

Yeah, me too.

See you, doc.

Will.

Hey. Y'all come out here.|I got someone to introduce you to.

Okay.|Okay.

Welcome.

Sheldon Pennington III.

- Stirling Howard IV.|- Kit Kittredge I.

I'm Ruthie.

- We're friends of Will and Countee.|- Ah.

Pennington's the name,|stocks and bonds were my game.

My father used to be in stocks too.

Ah. Operative words, "used to be."

You'll find a lot of men around here|who used to be one thing or another.

When I acquire|some gainful employment...

...I am going to send for my wife|and two sons.

One of them is just about your age.

Stirling Howard IV...

...where have you been?

With Will and Countee|at the hobo jungle.

Don't you ever take him there again,|do you understand?

Ever.

Yes, ma'am.

It wasn't his fault. Uh, uh...

- I was just...|- I gave them permission, Louise.

Excuse us.

I warned you about spending time|with those hobos.

Mom...|A lot of them are criminals.

- Next time, you get permission from me.|- I have to go.

Come on.

Ah. I'm sorry, Mother.|- Oh, you don't have to apologize.

We just can't afford|to antagonize the boarders, that's all.

Here, sit with me.

I never wanted this for you.

Should be...

...out playing, not worrying about boarders|and mortgages...

...and selling eggs.

Selling what?

- Uh, eggs.|- But we don't have any chickens.

Yes, we do. Aunt Millie sent them.

Kit, it will help us.

- Oh, no.|- Kit.

- No.|- Kit.

Everyone knows that selling eggs|is one step away from the poorhouse.

Margaret Mildred, sit down.

Look at me.

Selling eggs, growing vegetables,|reusing everything we can...

...may be the only thing|to keep us out of poorhouse.

And it's either that|or go to live with Uncle Hendrick.

Until your father finds work.

So, what'll it be?

The chickens or the uncle?

Hmm?

I'll take the chickens.

Thank you, thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.|I, Jefferson J. Berk...

...will suspend a person in midair.

Levitation?

Mm-hm.|No trickery, no distractions.

Right under your noses,|I will make someone in this room float.

Weightless.

I need a volunteer.

Miss Bond?

I have never levitated|a mobile librarian before.

Have you ever levitated|a dance instructor?

Yes, but that's a long story.

- Come, Miss Bond.|- Oh, no.

Yes.|- No, Mr. Berk, I couldn't.

Yeah.|Come on.

There you go.|- Yeah.

Miss Bond, Miss Bond, Miss Bond.

Oh!

- All right, but it won't work.|Please sit down.

All right.|Lean back.

All right.|That's it, very good.

Cross your arms over your chest.|Good. Close your eyes.

Close your eyes. Close your eyes.

- Are you comfortable?|- No.

Excellent. Children, the lights, please?

Miss Dooley, would you accompany me?

I do.

Will, yes.

Miss Bond.

You are getting sleepy.

Very sleepy.

You're feeling as light as air.

And you only hear my voice.|Only my voice.

All other sounds fade away.

Your eyelids are getting heavy, very heavy.|You can barely keep them open.

You...

...are now...

...asleep.

- Ah!|- Shh.

Please, Mrs. Howard,|any loud noise could awaken her...

...and she could fall.

Shh!

Yeah, yeah.

Miss Bond, ladies and gentlemen.

Well, I told you it wouldn't work.

Mother, Mother, you should have seen it.|Mr. Berk just levitated Miss Bond.

Well, are you all right?

Of course I am|because nothing happened.

- Yes, it did.|- Oh, no.

- You were in the air.|- No.

- Is that the mail?|- Yes.

- Uh, excuse me for a moment.|- Uh, but the mail's here, Mother.

- Mr. Berk.|- Thank you.

- Miss Bond.|- Ooh!

- Is there one from Dad?|- No, sweetie, not today.

Aw. He writes often enough.

I must say, Mrs. K., if I marry,|when I marry...

...I hope my husband|is half as attentive as yours.

My luck, I'll probably get some deadbeat|who never...

Mind. Never mind.

- Oh, no. Oh, no.|- Is anything wrong?

Oh, my poor cousin Frederich,|he was jumped by a hobo.

Took his watch, his wallet...

...and beat him pretty badly.

- Oh.|What a shame.

Is his wife looking after him?

- No, he's not married.|- Oh.

In fact, I'm the only family he has.

Mrs. Kittredge, would you mind if he came|and stayed with us for a few days?

I mean, when he gets better.|I promise, I will pay extra for his meals.

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