Bombshells (10 page)

“Okay, Sweetie. I guess we’re finished.” She turns to Flossie, “Do you really think that was a good one?”

“Yes’m. She was smilin’ real pretty.”

Mama holds out her arms to me. “Well, give me a kiss, and go pick up Stephanie.” The camera dangles from the strap around her neck so that it sits right on top of her belly. She lifts it away and wraps her arm around me.

I kiss her cheek and say, “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you, Sweetie. Have a nice day, now.”

“I’ll try. Bye, Birdie. Bye, Flossie. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Flossie smiles and waves. “I’ll be waiting to hear somethin’ good.”

“Bye, Mellie!” Birdie shouts.

Before I get to the end of the driveway, Birdie is beside me. She tugs on my skirt to make me stop. Looking up at me with big, scared eyes she says, “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do.”

“Don’t be scared.” I lean over and hug her. “You’ll like first grade. You’ll make new friends, and I bet you have a nice teacher.”

“But I don’t know what to do without you to show me.” Birdie looks like she’s about to cry. “You always show me what to do.”

Boy, does that surprise me. I never realized Birdie paid any attention to me at all. But I guess she does. Suddenly I feel older, and even responsible for how she behaves today. I stand up straight and adjust my notebook and purse on my hip. With my other hand, I give Birdie’s hand a squeeze. “Here’s the secret, Birdie. Just keep still and quiet, and do what the teacher says to do.”

“Okay. I’ll try to be good like you. Bye.”

At least I don’t have to face the first day of school alone, like Birdie. At seven forty-five, I knock on Stephanie’s door.

“Hi, Mel.” Cherie, Stephanie’s sister, opens the door and stuffs her hands into the pockets of her pink chenille bathrobe. She yells for Stephanie, then looks at me as she cocks her head to the side, making the rollers in her blonde hair click against each other. “Nice hair-do.” She sniffs. “Toni?”

I wait just inside the doorway, wondering how bad my hair really smells. I tug one of the curls under my nose. I can’t smell it, but then, my nose might be numb after last night.

Mr. and Mrs. Starr sit at the breakfast table. They both have newspapers open and coffee mugs with the Navy insignia on them held in mid-air. Mr. Starr wears his khaki uniform, and his hat sits on the table beside the ashtray, where twin curls of smoke drift upward.

“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Starr,” I say.

Mr. Starr grunts back at me. Stephanie’s mom swivels around and the red leatherette chair squeaks. “Hi, Mellie. Excited about your first day? Where is Stephanie? Stephanie! You’re going to be late!”

“I’m going, Mom. Don’t blow a fuse.” Steph grabs my arm and steers me out the door. She’s wearing a new white blouse, a full blue skirt over a stiff crinoline, and a wide, black patent belt at her waist. She looks like a picture in a magazine.

I tug on my blouse. It’s a little big across my breasts, and I can see the little pink rose on my bra when I look down at the neckline. Suddenly I feel like the emperor with the new clothes when he realizes he’s been tricked. But I do have new loafers with shiny pennies in the slots. Maybe those pennies will bring me good luck.

“What’s that smell?” Steph sniffs and curls her upper lip. “That tom cat must have been hanging around last night. Pee-yoo.”

The Toni home permanent.
Thanks a lot, Mama.
Gosh, I hope I don’t smell like this all day. Steph hasn’t even noticed my new hairstyle. I must look like my old, plain self. All that trouble and stink for nothing. I speed up a little and pray she won’t get another good whiff of my hair.

“Come on,” I say. “We don’t want to be late.”

The bus rolls to a screeching stop at the corner just as we get there. The other kids had already lined up, so we’re the last ones on.

Steph pokes me in the back with her finger, prodding me to hurry down the aisle. “Last seat, Mellie.”

The driver hits the gas just as I slide onto the seat. My head bumps against the back window. “Wow, a thrill ride every morning. Just like being at the Grand Prix.”

Stephanie takes out a lipstick along with an empty powder compact. “Cherie’s. Nice to have a make-up counter in the bathroom.” With a sly grin, she carefully fills in her lips, smacks them together, and then offers the lipstick to me.

I shake my head. “I don’t like the way that pasty stuff feels on my mouth. Did Cherie say you could have that lipstick?”

“Well, she didn’t say I
couldn’t
have it.” She shrugs and drops the gold tube and compact back in her purse.

The bus is still cool, though the sun is strong in the windows on our side. The bench seat feels stiff and hard. At the next stop, a column of boys with crew cuts comes marching down the bus aisle. “Looks like we might have to move.”

“Let me handle this, okay?” Steph folds her hands on top of the notebook in her lap like she’s sitting in church, holding a hymnal.

“Sorry, little girls, but you’re in the wrong seat.” Buzz, the bully from elementary school, props his elbow on the seatback in front of us. The short sleeves of his shirt are rolled twice, and he flexes his stringy bicep for us before leveling an evil grin at Stephanie. The other boys take that as their cue to sneer.

I nudge Steph and gather my purse and notebook, ready to head for higher ground. I don’t want any trouble from these hoodlums.

She elbows me back, harder. Tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder, she says, “Shut up, Buzz. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, who’s gonna keep me from making you move?”

Stephanie flips open her notebook and points to a name and telephone number written in red ink. “This is my sister’s new boyfriend. He told me to let him know if anybody gave me any trouble.”

I didn’t even know Cherie had a new boyfriend. Over Steph’s shoulder, I read,
Clint, EV5-4367
. Clint who?

Obviously, Buzz knows Clint. Buzz’s evil grin fades and he studies Steph’s notebook for a few seconds. Then he backs away, motioning for his friends to move up the aisle to take another seat. Buzz flops in the seat right in front of us. “Tell Clint I said hey, okay?”

Stephanie smiles like she has a buttery after-dinner mint in her mouth. “Sure, Buzz, I’ll tell him.” She winks at me.

I’m dying to know what’s going on, but can’t ask with Buzz sitting right in front of us.

I don’t get a chance all day. Of all the rotten luck, Steph and I don’t have any of the same classes. Not even the same lunch. I never did get my locker open in the morning and ended up lugging all of my books around the whole day.

Now I stop at my locker to try one last time to ditch my books. I sure don’t want to carry them home when I don’t need them for homework. I fumble with the combination lock again, and tug on it.

It doesn’t budge. “Damn.” I bang my head against the blue metal locker. At least it’s cool against my skin.

Stephanie swishes up beside me. Her new crinoline hasn’t lost any of its bounce since the morning. “Hi, Mellie. Wasn’t today just the best day ever?”

I stare at her. “Good grief, Steph. Did we live through the same day?”

“Yeah, it was great! I’ve been asked to join the Beta Club, and Marianne wants to sponsor me for the junior varsity cheerleaders.” She pauses to adjust her notebook. “What about you?”

“Okay, I guess. I’ve got to collect current events from the newspaper for Social Studies. My teacher says,” I pause and imitate her voice, “
We are witnessing one of the most challenging, and therefore, one of the greatest, times in the history of our nation.”

“Yeah. I have to get current events, too. I hate that.”

“And my English teacher wants me to work on the yearbook.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

Steph keeps turning her head, like she’s looking for someone. “By the way, I’ve decided that we have to have our first kiss by the end of the Sadie Hawkins Day Dance in three weeks, okay?” She waves at two older girls in straight skirts. “Well, let’s go get our seat on the bus.”

I slam my locker and catch up with her. “You’re not serious about the kissing stuff, right?”

“Sure, I am. C’mon, Mel, you’ve
gotta
grow up.”

“Hey, we’re the same age, remember? Twelve. We’re as grown up as twelve. Anyway, what’s the deal with Buzz and this Clint guy?”

“Oh, Clint just told me to let him know if Buzz gave me any trouble.” She dabs a little pink lipstick on, then slips the tube back into her purse. “He’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen Clint.”

“Not Clint.” Steph elbows me and motions with her head toward our bus. “Buzz. Buzz is cute.”

“Buzz? Really?”

She takes off for the bus, her skirt swishing one way and her hair swishing the other.

Buzz is already on the bus. When he sees us coming down the aisle, he motions for us to take the back seat. “Tell Clint I’m looking out for you, okay?”

“Sure thing, Buzz.” As we pass, Steph puts her hand on Buzz’s arm where it rests on the seat back. “And thanks for saving our seat.” Her hand slips off his arm real slow. I remember some blonde bombshell doing that in a movie.

Plopping into the seat first, I rest my head against the window frame and close my eyes. Having a big sister sure has helped Steph.

I feel like one of those monkeys who ride in the space ships: disoriented, out of my element. I’m definitely not in my regular jungle, and Steph seems to be swinging around with a whole new bunch of chimps.

BIRDIE

“I’m going home. I’m going home. I’m going home.” Isn’t that what Dorothy says before she clicks her heels in that scary movie with the flying monkeys? I can’t remember. But I know she wants to go home through the whole movie, even though she made some good friends, like a lion.

I’d like to have a lion for a friend. He could join the circus with me. We’d be famous. “Presenting Birdie, the Acrobat Tortionist Clown Lion Tamer, and Fred, the Friendly Lion.”

Where is Mama? She told me to wait for her right here at the front of the school and we’d walk home together. I hop on one leg, then the other. I have to tinkle. Bad. Maybe Mrs. Higgins will let me go back in the classroom.

“I have to go. I have to go. I have to go.” That’s my song right now. Singing that and hopping helps me hold it in. One more hop.

Where’s Mama?

Debbie Robison from my class walks past. “Bye-bye, Beatrice. Want to walk with me?”

Oh, I have to go so bad. If I start walking with Debbie, I’ll get home faster. I’ll see Mama on the way. “Okay.”

We start walking behind a group of big kids. I watch my feet, thinking hard about holding in my pee. I didn’t go to the bathroom the last time Mrs. Higgins lined the girls up. I’m kinda scared of the tiny, dark space when the door is closed, but I can’t tell anyone that. They’ll think I’m a baby. And I’m not. I’m Birdie who has a lion for a friend. I’m not scared of anything. Nothing at all.

The safety patrol boy stops us at the corner of the school street and the busy road Mama told me never to cross without her or the safety patrol. Well, Mama isn’t here but the safety patrol boy is. So I guess it’s okay.

He sticks his arms out and walks to the middle of the street. The cars stop like magic. And all he had to do is stick out his arms. Debbie and I walk across the street behind the big kids.

“Beatrice, did you like school?” Debbie asks. She talks kind of funny. Really fast and her words are short, like she cuts the ends off with scissors.

“It’s okay.” I wish I could be Birdie at school. But my full name was written on a card on my desk.
Beatrice Adams.
It is easier to stay still when I have to be Beatrice. It’s like the extra letters weigh me down.

“I got to have ice cream at lunch. Did you?” Debbie doesn’t have a neat-o lunch box like mine. She’s not carrying anything but some papers in her hand. I put my papers safe inside my lunch box.

“No. I had peanut butter and jelly, and carrots, and a cookie. My mama made it for me.” My throat gets hard and tight thinking about Mama. Why didn’t she come to school like she promised?

“My brother is in the sixth grade. He’s a safety patrol. He’ll be at the next corner. He says Mrs. Higgins is a nice teacher. Did you think so?”

“I guess.” I can’t think of anything else to say about school. All I can think about is how bad I have to pee. I don’t want to have an accident. I watch my feet some more so Debbie won’t see I’m about to cry. She’ll think I’m scared of school. I don’t want anybody to know that but me.

Soon, we’re at the next corner, and Debbie says hi to her brother, Jimmy, the safety patrol. He doesn’t say anything, but winks at Debbie before he puts out his arm to make us stop. While we wait, I look around. But I don’t see the yellow house with the fence and the big dog that was on the corner this morning when Mama brought me to school. This corner has a blue house with no fence, a yellow house with a big tree in the front yard, and a white house with red paint around the edges. This isn’t the same corner at all.