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The Girl with the Silver Eyes
1

KATIE SAT ON THE SMALL balcony of apartment 2-A, looking down over the front sidewalk. There was no yard, except for a narrow strip of grass between the parking lot and the street. Nowhere to play. Her mother had been concerned about that, for though there was a park two blocks away, she did not want Katie to go there alone.

So for the moment she sat on the balcony, looking through the iron bars that formed the sides of it, and watched the activity in the street.

Katie had always lived in the country, and she had liked that. This seemed interesting, however, and it was a nice street. It was wide and shaded with big trees, and most of the time there wasn’t a lot of traffic. Except when people were going to work, of course, the way they were now.

She saw Miss Katzenburger emerge from the front door below and head toward the street. Katie hadn’t met her yet, but she knew who she was. She’d seen which apartment she went into-3-B, one floor up-and had looked at the nameplate beside the door.

Miss Katzenburger had red hair and was quite pretty. Katie admired pretty people, like Miss Katzenburger and her mother; she wasn’t pretty herself. Even if she hadn’t had to wear horn-rimmed glasses, she knew that her face was plain. Her hair was an ordinary color, a sort of pale tan that was not quite blonde and not quite brown, and as straight as it was possible for hair to be. When she grew old enough to have a choice, she thought she might like to be redheaded, like Miss K. Or, her second choice, blonde like her mother.

“Hey, Joy, wait a minute!”

Katie pressed her face against the cold bars to see who was calling after Miss K. Oh, him.

She had met Mr. Pollard. He lived in 3-A, right across from Miss K., and she’d collided with him on the stairs last night, her first whole day at The Cedars Apartments. He had dropped some papers he was carrying, and Katie had stepped on them, after which he had sworn at her. And then, when she had said nothing except, “I’m sorry,” and stared at him, Mr. Pollard quickly snatched up his papers and edged around her, almost running the rest of the way down.

The way people often ran away from her, Katie thought. She’d wondered if it would be different in the city from the way it had been at home, near Delaney. Oh, they didn’t always run, exactly, but when they looked into her face they often backed away, muttering things she couldn’t understand, and hurried in some other direction.

Mr. Pollard, who was nearly bald on top even though he wasn’t very old yet, didn’t see her now. He caught up with Miss K., and their voices carried clearly to the little balcony over their heads.

“I’m afraid I’ve missed my bus; could you give me a lift?” he asked.

“Sure,” Miss K. agreed. She had a nice voice. “I have to pick up my girl friend, Angie, on the way.”

“That’s OK. Just so I get downtown. I had to stay up for hours last night, redoing all those papers that brat walked on, and I overslept.”

Katie tightened her fingers on the bars. It had been just as much his fault as hers that they’d run into each other; he had been running, too. Why were so many things her fault?

They had stopped, just a few yards out from the front edge of the balcony; she could see the tops of their heads, one a beautiful mass of red-gold curls, the other with a few strands of hair combed across the bald spot.

“Wait a minute, have I got my keys?” Miss K. dug around in her handbag. “What brat are you talking about? The little girl in 2-A? I thought she looked like a cute little owl, with those glasses. The quiet type. I doubt if she’ll be any trouble. Oh, here they are!”

Miss K. held the keys up, jingling them. Katie always thought of people by their initials; it was easier, especially when they had names like Katzenburger. Mr. P. shifted his briefcase to the other hand. “Did you look at her? At her eyes?”

Miss K. stopped jingling the ke

Katie Welker is used to being alone. She would rather read a book than deal with other people. Other people don’t have silver eyes. Other people can’t make things happen just by thinking about them!

But these special powers make Katie unusual, and it’s hard to make friends when you’re unusual. Katie knows that she’s different but she’s never done anything to hurt anyone so why is everyone afraid of her? Maybe there are other kids out there who have the same silver eyes . . . and the same talents . . . and maybe they’ll be willing to help her.