Blubber (3 page)

I tried to find pictures of whales to decorate the hat but I couldn’t so I settled for some of dolphins instead. I cut them out and stapled them all over the brim. Then I cut a piece of black construction paper into thin strips and attached them too. They hung down the sides, kind of like hair.

I shaped my flenser knife like a sword, but with a big curl at one end. I covered it with gold sparkle and painted my boots to match. Then I tried on my whole costume.

I went to my mother’s room to have a look in her long mirror but Kenny was already there, admiring himself in the witch’s suit. He had on his yellow goggles and the fake cigar dangled out of the corner of his mouth. He was doing some strange dance but as soon as he saw me he stopped.

“I just wanted to see if it fit okay,” he said. He walked away from the mirror, tripping over the pointy witch’s shoes. “It’s hard to walk in these things,” he told me, kicking them off.

“Can I ask you a very simple question?” I said.

“Go ahead …”

“Why are you wearing your goggles?”

“If you have to ask, you wouldn’t understand,” Kenny told me. “But speaking of goggles … did you know that the first motorcycle race was in France, in 1897?”

“No, I didn’t. But thanks for telling me.”

Kenny looked me up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing tomorrow?”

“Yes, it’s my flenser suit.” I stood in front of the mirror and held the sword out.

“What’d you do to your boots?”

“Painted them.”

“Gold?”

“Why not …”

“Does Mom know?”

“They’re
my
boots, Kenny. Why should Mom care if I had to paint them to match my sword?”

“Speaking of swords …” Kenny began.

“We were
not
speaking of swords,” I told him. “We were speaking about my flenser suit!”

“Yeah … well, if I were you I’d wear a sign telling people what you are … because I don’t think anybody’s going to know otherwise.”

“Oh Kenny … you are
so
dumb! Of course they’ll know. Just look at my hat … can’t you see all the pictures of whales up there?”

“They’re dolphins,” Kenny said.

“Only
you
would know that!”

“And speaking of dolphins,” Kenny said.

“Never mind … never mind! I don’t want to hear it.”

Later, I made a sign saying
FLENSER
, just in case Kenny was right. I punched two holes through it, ran a string across and hung it around my neck.

The next morning my mother was surprised when she saw my boots. “They’re gold!” Mom said in a very loud voice. She puffed hard on her cigarette.

“Smoking causes cancer and heart disease,” I told her, ignoring my boots.

Mom mashed her cigarette out and reached for her coffee. “What did you do to your new boots, Jill?”

“I painted them.”

“Jill … they have to last you all winter. You haven’t even worn them yet.”

“I know it, Mother!”

“Well … how could you do such a thing?”

“A flenser wouldn’t wear plain brown boots.”

“I just hope you used washable paint.”

“I think I did.”

“You checked first, didn’t you?”

“I’m almost sure it’s washable.”

“You didn’t check before you used it?”

“Not exactly.”

Mom lit another cigarette.

I called for Tracy. She was in her Big Bird costume and her mother was adjusting a crown of feathers on her head. “How do you like it?” she asked, twirling around.

“Oh, Tracy … you look fantastic!” Next to her I felt very plain.

Tracy looked me over. “What’s a flenser?” she asked, reading my sign.

“That’s what I’m supposed to be,” I told her.

“I know … but what is one?”

“Oh … a flenser’s a guy who strips the blubber off whales.”

“Where’d you get such a weird idea?” Tracy asked.

“From Linda Fischer … you know … the one Wendy calls Blubber. She gave a report on whales.”

“Well,” Tracy said, “at least you don’t have to worry that everyone will be dressed like you.” She went to the mirror and combed her hair. She has the nicest hair I’ve ever seen. It hangs straight down her back. She can even sit on it. And it never looks dirty or has tangles. I’m growing mine but no matter how long it gets it will never look like Tracy’s.

Mrs. Wu drove us to school so Tracy
wouldn’t mess up her costume. When I got to my class Wendy was already there. She was dressed like a queen. She wore a very high crown with lots of fake emeralds and rubies pasted to it. She also wore her mother’s long bathrobe and had this crazy looking fur thing wrapped around her neck. It had eyes, paws, a tail and everything.

“Animals are for loving, not wearing,” I told her.

“I know it,” Wendy said, “but this thing is very old. It belonged to my grandmother. And in those days they didn’t know about ecology.”

“Oh …” I said. “Then I guess it’s all right.”

Donna Davidson really fooled me. Instead of dressing up like a horse, this year she was a jockey. “My things are all
genuine
,” she bragged. “My father knows this jockey who’s very famous and he’s just my size and these are his
real life
jockey clothes.”

Donna looked pretty good, but I didn’t tell her I thought so. And I wasn’t worried about winning the prize for most original costume because a flenser is a lot more clever than a jockey or a queen with a tall crown. Practically everyone else in our class was dressed like a bum, with old baggy pants and shirts hanging out and charcoal smudges on their faces. Caroline even carried a stick with a pouch tied on one end. There
is nothing very original about dressing up like that.

Right after Mrs. Minish took the attendance she told us to line up for the Halloween assembly. “Remember, no talking in the halls or the auditorium.”

I stood on line between Wendy and Linda, who was wearing a long, red cape. As we walked down the hall Linda tapped me and said, “What are you supposed to be?”

“Can’t you read?” I asked, holding up my sign.

“Oh … a flenser. I’ll bet you got that idea from my report.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Jill Brenner!” Mrs. Minish snapped. “I said
no
talking!”

In the auditorium our class sat in the third and fourth rows. I whispered to Linda, “What are
you
supposed to be?”

“Never mind.”

“Don’t you know?”

“I know.”

“Then tell me.”

“No … it’s my own business.”

“I’ll bet you’re supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood.”

“I am not.”

I turned to Wendy. “Get a load of Little Red Riding Hood,” I said.

Wendy leaned across me and told Linda, “You better watch out for the Big Bad Wolf!”

“Yeah …” I said, “you better …” I felt a hand on my head. I turned around in my seat. It was Mrs. Minish.

“If I have to speak to you again you’ll go back to the classroom.”

I didn’t say a word during the Pledge of Allegiance or “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Linda sang in a very loud voice and when I looked at her I could see her gray tooth. Wendy says if she isn’t more careful about the way she brushes all her teeth will turn gray and rotten and fall out.

The Halloween Parade was next. Every class had a turn to march across the stage. The costume judges all sat in the first row. They were mothers from the P.-T.A. It’s against the rules for them to vote for their own kids.

I watched carefully as the other classes had their turns. I pretended to be a judge. Only two sixth-graders were dressed as anything besides bums. Jerry Pochuk was a doctor and Fred Yarmouth was something I couldn’t figure out. I certainly didn’t see any costumes as original as mine or any that were prettier than Tracy’s.

After the parade Mrs. Runyon, the librarian,
stood on the stage and said, “I’m happy to be here today to present the prizes for the most beautiful and the most original costumes.”

I sat on my hands to keep from chewing my nails.

“But before I do, I want to share with you the fine prizes the P.-T.A. has selected and donated.” Mrs. Runyon held up two paperback books. They both had medals printed on the covers. I read them last year. One wasn’t too bad but the other was so boring I never got past the first chapter. Still, it wasn’t the prize that mattered. It was the idea of winning.

“And now … for our winner …” Mrs. Runyon said. “For the most beautiful costume … Tracy Wu, the Big Bird!”

Everyone clapped as Tracy ran to the stage, dripping yellow feathers all over the aisle. She got the boring book.

“And now … for the most original costume of the day …”

I sat up in my seat.

“To Fred Yarmouth, the fried egg,” Mrs. Runyon called.

I couldn’t believe it! I was so sure the prize would be mine. And how did the judges know Fred was supposed to be a fried egg when I had no idea what he was?

Fred ran to the stage. Mrs. Runyon said, “Tell
us, Fred, how did you decide to be a fried egg?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Fred said. “I had this white sheet and some yellow felt and when I put it all together that’s what it looked like to me.”

He hadn’t even planned to be an egg. That made everything worse. Now I’d be stuck wearing gold boots for the rest of the year—and all for nothing.

We were back in our classroom at ten-thirty and Mrs. Minish said we’d work on math and science until lunchtime. I tried to concentrate on my math but when Mrs. Minish asked to see my paper she drew red lines across every problem.

“They’re all wrong?” I asked.

“Not the answers,” Mrs. Minish said.

“Then what?”

“You didn’t set up the problems properly.”

“But if I got the right answers what’s the difference?”

“Your equations are backwards. You’ll have to do the paper over.”

“I don’t see why,” I told her.

“Because you’re supposed to be learning how to think the problems through and you aren’t thinking the right way.”

“Isn’t there more than one way to think?”

“Really Jill … I don’t care for this talking back!”

“But Mrs. Minish …”

“No buts,” Mrs. Minish said. “Take it home and do it over.”

Before lunch Mrs. Minish excused us to go to the Girls’ and Boys’ Rooms. I took my sword with me. I was afraid if I left it at my desk Robby Winters might get his hands on it and ruin it. And I needed it for later, to go Trick-or-Treating for Unicef.

“Mrs. Minish is such a bitch!” I said to Wendy and Caroline, as we stood by the sinks in the Girls’ Room. “She marked all my math problems wrong.”

“I got a hundred,” Caroline said.

“That’s because I let you copy off me,” Wendy told her.

“Not that my morning wasn’t already ruined,” I said. “I still can’t believe they gave that smelly fried-egg costume the prize.”

“Yeah,” Wendy said. “My costume was much more original than that.”

Caroline said, “Personally, I thought Donna Davidson would win. Her things were all genuine.”

“There’s nothing original about being a
jockey,” I said. “Being a flenser is original but those judges were too dumb to know it.”

“One of them was my aunt,” Caroline said.

“Oh … I didn’t mean to insult her.”

“That’s all right. She is dumb. My mother’s always saying so.”

“Oh.”

The other girls finished and went back to the classroom while me, Caroline and Wendy stood around talking.

I heard a toilet flush, then Linda Fischer came out of a booth, pulling her red cape around her.

“Look who’s here,” Wendy said. “It’s Blubber!”

“In the flesh,” Caroline added.

“I wonder what’s under her cape?” Wendy asked.

“Probably nothing,” Caroline said.

“Oh, there’s got to be something,” Wendy said. “There’s got to be her blubber … at least.”

“Yeah … her blubber’s under her cape!” Caroline said and she and Wendy started laughing. I giggled a little too.

Wendy moved closer to Linda, humming “Beautiful Dreamer.”

“Stay away from me!” Linda told her, walking backwards.

“I’m not going to hurt you, stupid,” Wendy
said. “I just want to see what’s under your cape.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“Oh, don’t worry … that’s not my job … Jill’s the flenser.”

“That’s true,” I said. “I am.”

“And the flenser’s the one who strips the blubber,” Wendy said.

I wasn’t sure exactly what Wendy had in mind.

Linda tried to run but Caroline and Wendy blocked her way.

“Strip her, flenser!” Wendy called. “Now! Then we’ll throw her cape out the window and she’ll have to walk down the hall in her blubbery birthday suit.”

“No!” Linda said. “Don’t you dare strip me!”

Caroline and Wendy grabbed hold of Linda’s arms and held her still.

“Do your job,” Wendy said. “Prove what a good flenser you are.”

“Okay,” I said, pulling off Linda’s cape. She had on a regular skirt and shirt under it.

“Strip her some more!” Wendy said, yanking up Linda’s skirt. “Hey … Blubber wears flowered underpants.”

“Let go of me!” Linda squirmed and tried to kick but Caroline grabbed her shirt and tugged until two buttons popped off.

“She wears an undershirt!” Caroline said.

Linda started to cry.

“Oh my … Blubber’s blubbering,” Wendy said.

“Stop it … stop it!” Linda cried.

“What’s the magic word?” I asked.

“Please!”
Linda’s nose was running.

“Blubber knows the magic word,” I said, “so the flenser won’t strip her today.”

“But she still has to obey the queen,” Wendy said. “I am Her Majesty, Queen Wendy. Get it, Blubber?”

Linda nodded and tried to catch her breath. She had red splotches all over her face.

“Curtsy to the queen,” Wendy said.

Linda tried to tuck her shirt back into her skirt.

“Didn’t you hear me, Blubber? I said, curtsy to the queen.”

Linda curtsied to Wendy.

“That’s better,” Wendy said. “Now kiss my foot.”

“I don’t want to,” Linda started sniffling.

I raised my sword. “Do whatever Queen Wendy says, Blubber.”

Linda bent down and kissed Wendy’s sneaker.