Full Speed Ahead: My Journey with Kit

Without thinking, I jump off the tram after Buddy. But too late, I realize that Kit isn’t with me. I yell for her frantically. She sees me, but the trolley is going too fast for her to jump off. Kit shouts at me, but I can’t hear her over the racket of the trolley’s clinging bell and screeching wheels. And then, the trolley disappears, with Kit on it.

I am left alone on a street corner. I have no idea where I am, and I have no idea how to get back to Kit’s house. I’m lost in a place I don’t know, in a time I don’t know, and I’m pretending to be a girl I don’t know. I am utterly and totally lost.

With my heart pounding, I run in the direction that I saw Buddy go. I’ve got to find him. If anything happens to Buddy, I won’t forgive myself. This must be what Mom meant about a pet being a big responsibility. I dash across the street and run around the corner where I practically collide with a horse-drawn wagon.

As I come around the wagon, I see Buddy buddying up to a large gray horse. A raggedy-looking man is squatting next to Buddy, petting him with a smile. I run to Buddy and scoop him up. He licks my face and squirms with a puppyish joy in my arms.

The man says hello to me and he tips his old straw hat as he stands up. He says my dog is mighty happy to see me. I tell him that I thought he was lost. Of course, now we’re both lost. The man says that being lost just means that you’re not where you want to be. He asks where I want to be. I tell him that I’m staying with the Kittredges. Does he know where they live?

The man shakes his head and says that Cincinnati is a big city. Thousands of people live here. Do I have an address?

I shake my head. And then I have an idea. I put my hand into my pocket, and then I pull out Uncle Hendrick’s letter. And sure enough, it has his address on it. I hold it out to the man and say that I’d like to get to Chestnut Court. He says he can give me a ride. Hop on the wagon. I lift Buddy onto the back seat and the man climbs up and reaches a hand to me. Buddy perches himself between me and the man, happy as a clam.

The horse clip-clops along at a brisk pace under the leafy trees, and then into patches of bright sunshine. It’s nice to ride uncovered, feeling the breeze on my face. It’s like riding in the convertible or on a float in a parade. I ask the man what he collects in his wagon, and the man says rags. He buys the rags and sells them to factories that make paper from them.

I grin. We call out a recycling where I come from. And it reminds me of how I like to take old clothes and turn them into new ones. Pretty soon, we turn the corner onto a street of big, stately homes. The ragman stops in front of number 201 Chestnut Court. He says it’s very fancy. Am I sure this is where I want to go?

The truth? No. I’m afraid to meet Uncle Hendrick. But Kit might be at his house, so I’ve got to face my fear and go there.

I smile weakly and nod to the ragman. I thank him and Buddy and I hop off the wagon. Just then, I hear someone calling out the name Lulu. It’s Kit. She runs up and gives me a hug. She’s as glad to see Buddy and me as we are to see her. She says that she thought I was lost. I say I did, too, and if not for the ragman, I would be. The ragman waves as his horse trots away.

Kit gives Buddy a loving pat on the head and says that I won’t be any happier about seeing Uncle Hendrick than she is, but we might as well get it over with. We go up the steps, which looks as big and dark and unfriendly as a door in a Frankenstein movie. The knocker is even shaped like a fire-breathing dragon. Kit bravely grabs the dragon snout and gives the door a good knock.

Within just a couple of moments, the heavy door opens, and we step inside into a cold, murky darkness. A tall, gray-haired man looms up out of the shadows and appears at us. He says Kit’s name with a look on his face like he just ate a sour pickle. What do we want? And then he turns to me and asks who I am.

Kit greets her uncle, and says that I am Cousin Lucille, of course. Uncle Hendrick looks at me and says one word: no. I am not Cousin Lucille.