Catwalk (50 page)

“Since you’re not going to be at the Cali Fair in Colombia for Christmas, I thought you’d like a salsa band hanging from your tree.”

“You made these,” Angora says, in awe.

“You know Fifi—if it’s not handmade, she wouldn’t put it in your hand,” I say, proudly, eyeing the delicate little costumes the three ornament figurines are wearing.

The doorbell rings and Angora drops an ornament. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous,” Angora whispers as Je’Taime sails out of the kitchen to open the door. “I hate confrontations.”

“I hate being disqualified even more!” I hiss to quiet
her down. We all line up on the couch like we’re the Christmas decorating committee taking a gingerbread break.

At last, the unsuspecting spy is in our midst. Chintzy looks curiously at Je’Taime when she sails into the apartment. Fifi, who is sitting next to me, says under her breath, “I guess one
bruja
recognizes another.” I elbow Fifi to put a lid on her witch hunt. We all have to maintain a certain poker-face position to get this rodeo on the road.

Smiling sweetly, Chintzy toddles on her beloved Michael Kors high-heeled lace-up butterscotch leather boots to the couch, where we’re sitting. “
Hola
, Pashmina,” she says, quietly.

“Hi, Chintzy,” I say, warmly. “This won’t take long, because I hate to cut into your nursing schedule. By the way, how is your father?”

Chintzy looks puzzled; then her eyes light up. “Oh, he’s much better. I, um, he didn’t come there. I mean, he’s not at my house anymore.”

“What a pity the two of you didn’t have more bonding time, with him having been in Malaysia and all. How long was he there?” I query.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Chintzy says, squirming. “I didn’t ask him.”

“Well, I hope he has recovered fully from his
virus
. Was it a contagious one?”

“I don’t know,” Chintzy says, blushing big-time. As if on cue, Chintzy’s eyes well up in tears, and she puts her hand to her face as if she’s about to lose it.

“It must be very upsetting,” suggests Elgamela, winding up Chintzy for a three-hankie crying jag.

“It is,” Chintzy says, sitting down in the armchair directly across from us, her big brown Kewpie doll eyes widening on cuckoo cue. “I love him so much even though he was never there for us when I was little. It was so hard for my mother working and raising us by herself—four children with no help from him. That’s why I’m always trying to help everyone.”

“Yes, you’re very helpful,” I say, buttering up Chintzy’s traitor toast. “That’s why we wanted to see you—so you could help us with a mystery we can’t seem to solve.”

“What is it?” Chintzy asks eagerly, wiping away her crocodile tears.

Je’Taime walks into the living room with a serving tray and asks Chintzy, “Tea, mademoiselle?”

“Yes, please. If it’s okay?”

“Of course,” I second. “You like two packets of Splenda, right?”

“How did you know that?” Chintzy asks, looking impressed.

“Oh, I remember freshman year in the Fashion Café they didn’t have it and you pulled out a packet from
your purse,” I recall. What I refrain from telling her is that that was when I first came up with her Splenda-fied smile moniker.

“I’m going down to the laundry room,” announces Je’Taime.

Chintzy smiles at her and says thank you, then gingerly balances the teacup and places the saucer on the coffee table like she is glad we invited her.

“Um, like I was saying, we can’t seem to figure out how Shalimar and Zirconia are so fully informed about our entire Design Challenge plans and even the theme for our fashion show,” I start, trying Angora’s sweet approach first. “Do you have any idea?”

“No, I don’t,” Chintzy says, sounding newly concerned. “How do you know they know?”

“We had an incident in the hallway—that was completely taped by the Teen Style Network, as a matter of fact. It was interesting how Shalimar and Zirconia knew exactly what time to tell the network to be there. She even invited Ice Très and Willi Ninja, Jr., to join in the frenzy—at three-fifteen, the exact same time you knew we would be handing in our Design Challenge to the Catwalk office. Do you think that is a coincidence?” I ask, curiously.

“It has to be, Pashmina. I don’t think anyone knew I was going to meet you there at that time. Unless someone has been eavesdropping on me. Omigod, I
didn’t even think of that! I forget how jealous people are of us—I mean, you,” she coos.

Now I can tell she’s fluffing my whiskers. “But all the stuff about our ideas for the Design Challenge and our fashion show lineup—you didn’t discuss that with anyone?” I ask.

“No, why would you ask me that? I would never tell anyone about our plans. I know how important it is to keep everything discussed confidential,” Chintzy says, convincingly. “All I care about is that we win this competition. I didn’t want to say anything before but I think someone has been leaking information—and obviously Shalimar found out!”

“Do you have any idea who that person could be?” Angora asks, sweetly.

Chintzy looks over in Aphro’s direction and answers, “I wish I knew, because I would tell you. If you want, I can try to find out.”

“I know you didn’t just look at me like that, did you?” blurts out Aphro, challenging Chintzy.

“No!” says Chintzy, sounding frightened. “I didn’t mean to look at you like that.”

“So you don’t talk to Shalimar at all?” I ask, trying to regain our upper hand.

“No, she never talks to me,” Chintzy insists. “Why would she?”

“And you don’t know anything about who sent me
that computer virus that almost destroyed my life,” I say, getting edgy.

“A virus. Omigod—I’m so scared of getting one of those I never download attachments from
anybody
!” swears Chintzy, emphatically. “Listen, I don’t know why you’re attacking me like this, but somebody has obviously been telling you lies!”

“Lies? Chenille heard you in the activator room with Shalimar, talking about how you could get your friend Victor to send a computer virus!
Mentirosa!
” shouts Felinez like she can’t wait to knock Chintzy harder than her birthday piñata.

Chintzy’s lip trembles as she fights back tears. “You’re the liar, not me!” she snarls at Felinez. “And I’m not going to listen to your lies anymore, Felinez!” She dramatically turns to march out. Felinez lunges at her, yanking her ponytail from behind to drag her away from the door. Chintzy screams. “Get off me,
loquita
, you’re crazy!” Felinez won’t budge. She yanks Chintzy’s ponytail so ferociously that it comes off in her hand, causing Felinez to fall backward hard onto the carpet.

“You all right?” cries Elgamela, rushing to Felinez’s side.

Aphro rushes to the site of the fakeness: “Omigod, your hair is
fake
—just like you!” she shouts, then jumps on Chintzy and pins her to the floor. “We know you’re a
double agent. Your cover is blown like this ponytail, so you’d better start talking!”

“You’re crazy! Get off me, or I’m calling the police!” screams Chintzy.

“You may want to call Mr. Kandor in the human resources department at Grubster PR first. You do work there—and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who got you the hookup!” I shout, finally playing the trump card.

Chintzy stops writhing instantly. “What did you tell them?” she asks hysterically.

“About your father’s trip to Malaysia and the mysterious virus he contracted that turns out to be highly
contagious
,” I say, nastily.

“If I lose my job, I’m going to leak all your designs all over the Internet to get back at you, cuz I didn’t do anything!” she screeches, turning even nastier. “And I’m going to tell them you’re lying, because my father lives in Larchmont and he’s a janitor and I can prove it!”

“So his trip to Malaysia for Save the Children was just a charade?” Elgamela says, satisfied that we finally caught Chintzy in a bald-faced lie.

“So what? I made it up!” shrieks Chintzy. “I just did that because my father never comes to see us and I wanted to impress everybody. That doesn’t mean I had anything to do with that stupid virus, or that I’m a double agent. That’s insulting. And you can’t prove it!”

“So you’re saying that my sister, Chenille, is a liar—and she didn’t see you with Shalimar in the dark in the activator room plotting against me?” I reiterate for clarification.

“Get off me and I’ll talk,” Chintzy says, writhing again.

We let her get off the floor and Felinez throws her ponytail piece in her face. “I hate you!” Chintzy snarls.

“Not as much as we hate you!” shouts Aphro. “I can’t believe you, sitting up there in the Catwalk meeting, dropping the dime on my job, but you neglected to tell us who
your
‘boss’ really is!”

“I do know Shalimar. So what? I’m saying if you try to get me disqualified, I’ll tell Ms. Lynx that you’re telling lies because you’re jealous of me and you stole my designs. Then you’ll get disqualified as house leader!”

“Do you really think telling
more
lies is going to make this a better situation?” Elgamela asks in disbelief.

“I need the money and the job for my family. You would do the same thing. You don’t live in a situation like I do,” Chintzy says, starting up with the tears again.

“Hold up,” says Aphro. “What money are you talking about? It’s an internship.”

“The money Shalimar gave me,” confesses Chintzy, gritting her teeth in despair like she has finally gotten the dancing bears off her chest.

We freeze, staring at Chintzy in disbelief. “Wow, you don’t
fabricate
, you give shades of
Watergate
,” I exclaim, plopping back onto the couch in shock.

“If you try to get me in trouble, I will get you in trouble,” declares Chintzy, finally playing her hand.

“So you actually want us to keep you in our house so you can continue to spy on us for Shalimar?” asks Angora, sitting straight up on the couch like she’s finally registering the level of Chintzy’s deception.

Chintzy doesn’t respond; instead, she pulls her short hair out of the elastic band and smooths it back again. I watch in shock. All of a sudden, my mother’s voice pops into my head. “Never trust anyone who always wears the same hairstyle,” I say out loud, gaining the strength to play
my
next hand. “Look, all we want is you out of our house. We’re thinking perhaps you can get a little more mileage out of your father’s fabricated trip to Malaysia than you expected.”

“What do you mean?” asks Chintzy, stone-faced.

“You’re going to go to Ms. Lynx’s office tomorrow and file a Catwalk competition release form so you can be excused from your obligations as a team member due to ‘extended family problems and complications,’ ” I suggest. “Your poor father’s condition has worsened and he requires your constant attention, because your mother is working and you have to take care of your brothers and sisters, too. You get my drift?”

“I’ll think about it,” Chintzy says, blandly, like she refuses to give up her elaborate espionage.

Aphro starts to say something nasty, but I cut her off. “Okay, you think about it. That’s fair.”

Somberly, Chintzy gets up to go.

“You’d better hope we don’t lose the Design Challenge because of you,” warns Aphro.

“It’s not my fault. I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” Chintzy maintains.

“Well, tell Victor that virus of his is more powerful than a Russian missile,” I retort.

Chintzy’s face drops, and for the first time, I see the cuckoo bird popping out from inside the clock.

After she leaves, I sit stunned. “Now I understand what a psychopath is,” I say, taking it all in. In psychology class, we studied personality disorders and I couldn’t have been more bored. “I have just seen shades of straight-up shady. I could teach Mr. Treech’s Psychology 101 class with enthusiasm.”

“She is so sneaky she could sell blue Icees to the Eskimos,” agrees Felinez.

After a little while we go back to decorating the Christmas tree with renewed appreciation.

“She turned more leaky than
sneaky
whenever her father came up, though,” Elgamela observes.

“That’s true. I thought she was going to fold like it’s laundry day, but she was so convincing, she could have
starred in a remake of
The Three Faces of Eve
. I sure misjudge people,” Angora says, folding her arms across her chest. “Speaking of laundry, where is Je’Taime?”

The doorbell rings, prompting Angora to say, “Maybe she left her keys,” and jump up to answer it. I hear her talking to a man in the hallway before she closes the door with an envelope in her hand. “That was Mr. Gahneff, the building manager. My mother wired him the arrears for the rent,” Angora says in disbelief. “I can’t believe it.” Angora’s hands shake and she starts wheezing.

“Come sit down!” We grab Angora to head for the couch. She sits there quietly for a second, the envelope dropping out of her hand. “Why can’t you believe it? The only alternative would have been her only daughter and her ex-husband on the sidewalk, and despite what you say, I don’t think your mother is that vindictive,” I assure her.

“No, I can’t believe that she’s downstairs,” Angora says, turning as pale as a Victorian poster child. “She told Mr. Gahneff to tell us to come downstairs and help her with her luggage—all ten pieces.”

We gasp, but Angora starts giggling. “I got my secret wish after all.”

“What wish?” I ask, holding her hand.

“I prayed last night that if I got to spend Christmas in New York with all of you, then I would never
complain about anything again, so now God is holding me to it—and the proof is right downstairs!”

All of a sudden, the Christmas tree topples over.

“Omigod,” says Elgamela, jumping up to stand it vertically again.

“
Ay, Dios mio
!” exclaims Felinez, helping. “We don’t want Ms. Le Bon to see the tree like this!”

“Oh, why not?” chuckles Angora. “It’ll give her something else to complain about.”

“Don’t think she came all this way without notice to complain,” I exclaim, adamantly. “She came because she loves you, Angora. And so do we.”

Now Je’Taime comes back from the laundry room. “Are you coming downstairs to help?”