How High the Moon (28 page)

“Hey, Johnny, did Brenda tell you that her and me are going to be center-stage? That’s where the best singers get to stand because everybody looks in the middle most. That’s what Jay said. And this is what we have to do when the orchestra starts our song.” And I put my hands up over my face, like they were a blue fan, and hummed the intro, then pulled them down to start the song.

“Teaspoon?” Brenda said, while smiling.

I stopped my demonstration, even if I was to the good place where we do something special with our fans. “What?”

“Tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Anyway, Johnny. It’s going to be a swell gala. You’re coming, aren’t you? I get free tickets, so I’ll give you one.”

Johnny put his arm around Brenda and gave her a little tug toward him, while he laughed and said, “It’s a deal, Teaspoon.” Brenda smiled.

“Okay,” I said. “Night then.” I opened the screen door to go inside, then turned around. Johnny and Brenda were standing face-to-face talking quietly, Brenda’s hand on Johnny’s arm. “Oh, and
one more thing. Could somebody besides me yell at Rebecca Lang to stop sticking her top teeth out when Mindy’s singing? It’s mean, and it makes Mindy feel afflicted all over again. Jay doesn’t see her because Ivy’s Little Sister, Betsy Franks, who has a head the size of a melon, is probably blocking Rebecca. But boy, if somebody doesn’t make her stop it, I’m going to be kicking her in the shin, too.”

Johnny put his head down, but I heard him laugh. “Enough thinking for one night, Teaspoon. Go to bed.” Brenda was laughing, too. But just then, a car too fancy to belong in me and Johnny’s neighborhood came down the street. Brenda must have thought that car was going to smack her, because she jumped out of the way and hurried to her car, leaving Johnny standing there alone. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Teaspoon. I need to get home,” she said as she unlocked her door, her head down. Then she got in her car before me or Johnny could even say good night.

I looked at Johnny standing in the street, his hands in his pockets, as Brenda gave a quick wave and sped for home. Johnny’s head was down so I couldn’t see his face, but something about him looked sad just the same. “Well, good night, Johnny,” I said, and he said, “’Night, Teaspoon,” then walked back to his side of the street.

It wasn’t easy to shut off my thoughts. I thought about how many days until Ma came home, and I thought about the gala. Then right before I dozed off, I had one of those hey-wait-a-second thoughts that made me lie awake wondering why, if Brenda thought that car was going to smack them, she didn’t yank Johnny off the street with her. She already had ahold of his arm.

As the days passed
, I got as jumpy and owly as Poochie, snapping at anybody who looked at me twice. “What’s the matter, Teaspoon?” Teddy asked me as we sat down to a late-Sunday-morning breakfast.

“People are getting on my nerves,” I said.

“What people?” Teddy asked.

“That Jay for one. The guy who’s teaching us our song and dance. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell him not to call me Pip Squeak, he does it anyway. And then there’s those Jackson kids. They’re so dumb! Last night when Brenda brought me home, Jolene kept waving and saying, ‘Hi Brenda! Hi!’ like they were best friends or something. Then when I was waving to Johnny as they drove off, Jolene yelled, ‘He’s
our
brother, not yours, Teaspoon.’

“And I said, ‘So? He brought
me
Starlight seats, not you! And Brenda’s
my
Big Sister, not yours.’”

I made a point of not looking at Teddy’s face when I repeated what I said, because I knew his eyebrows would do a double dip over that one.

“So what did that idiot Jolene say then? She said, ‘So what? Brenda’s
our
brother’s girlfriend.’ Now, how stupid is
that
, Teddy? I yelled back, telling her it was stupid, too. I reminded her that Brenda is engaged to Leonard Gaylor—whether I like him or not—
so she couldn’t be Johnny’s girlfriend. Johnny’s getting paid to make the moons and Brenda’s helping him because she’s softhearted. That’s all.

“So then that dumb Jolene said, ‘Oh yeah? Then how come Jack and Joey saw them kissing when they snuck up on Johnny’s car? And how come he took her up on River Road if they’re just friends, when everybody knows that’s where the big kids go to neck?’

“Those Jacksons, Teddy. They’re nothing but liars and gossips. I wish I never had to look at them again.”

Teddy poured me some orange juice and set a plate of French toast down in front of me. I was going to comment on the fact that Teddy had changed breakfast up a bit, but I couldn’t stop bellyaching long enough to tell him how much I liked French toast.

“And then there’s those Sunshine Sisters who don’t know their right from their left foot for nothing! No wonder when Mrs. Bloom hobbles in to listen and watch, she keeps yelling, ‘Synchronize your steps, girls!’ And there’s one Big Sister who sounds like a dog who got hit by a car. I’m not kidding you, Teddy. And no matter how many times Jay tells her to tone it down—which means
shut up because you sing like a wounded dog
—she keeps bellering. She’s going to ruin our whole song!”

I tore off a piece of French toast, dipped it in the Aunt Jemima, and stuffed it into my mouth, ignoring the dribble of syrup slipping down my chin.

“I’ll tell you, Teddy. About the only people that aren’t getting on my nerves right now is you and Charlie. Probably because you both know when to shut your yaps.”

“I’m assuming Brenda is included on your list of people who aren’t getting on your nerves?” Teddy asked.

“I hate to say it, Teddy, but no, she’s not. The more rattled she gets, the more noodley she acts. That Leonard came to the Starlight the night before last, and he was nothing but nasty. I didn’t hear what he said because it was too noisy with our music going, but his face sure did look crabby. And when Brenda tried
walking away because Jay was calling her back to the stage, he stuck his face right up against hers and snapped something. I’ll bet anything he got spit on her face when he was doing it, too.” Then I stuck my face up to Teddy’s, Leonard-close, and I shouted, “Am I getting spit on your face up this close, Teddy?” He told me I was.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I sat back down as Poochie started barking at God knew what.

“I asked Brenda what Leonard was so crabby about when she was driving me home, but she didn’t say. Must have been about wanting to take her on a date, because Johnny was waiting for Brenda when we got back here, but she had to tell Johnny she couldn’t work on anything because she had to get home. She didn’t tell him why, but by last night Johnny knew, because Dumbo Doug told him he saw Brenda and Leonard at the Starbright Drive-In. Johnny doesn’t like Leonard. I know because I asked him. And know what I think, Teddy? I think that Johnny told Brenda to tell Leonard to take a flying leap, because when Johnny came across the street last night, he looked as owly as I’ve been feeling. And the first thing out of his mouth to Brenda—even before he said hi to me or picked me up to give me a little play-shake—he said to Brenda, ‘You didn’t tell him, did you?’ And Brenda said, ‘It’s not that simple, Johnny.’ Then Johnny just did one of those about-faces and headed back home. Brenda called after him, ‘I have to get through the gala first, Johnny.’ Who knows if Johnny heard her, though, because he had already jumped on his new motorcycle—well, it’s not new, but new to him—and started it up, and you know how noisy that thing is.”

Teddy sat down and watched me scoot the last square of French toast through my puddle of syrup. He said something, but by this time Poochie had been barking and snarling for a good five minutes. Finally I said, “That dang dog. I can’t take it no more!” I got up and stomped through the kitchen and out the back door.

Charlie was on his knees weeding Mrs. Fry’s flower bed, which explained why Poochie was barking. But I didn’t care why he was
barking. I shot right across the yard screaming at the top of my lungs. “You want me to slug you, you stupid, mangy, afflicted, yapping mutt? Because I will if you don’t stop barking!” I pointed to his doghouse. “You get your butt in there and shut up, Poochie.
Now!
”

I could hear Teddy yelling behind me to get back, and see Mrs. Fry rapping on her window. But I just kept right on yelling until he tucked his tail between his legs and skittered into his doghouse, going so fast that some of the dog hair dangling from his doorway tore loose and floated off.

Afterward, Teddy made me go in the house, where he sat me down on the couch. I pushed his arm away and sucked the snot back up my nose.

“Teaspoon. I don’t think your mood has much of anything to do with any of these things. I think you’re just anxious about your ma coming.”

“It’s taking forever, Teddy,” I said, my voice cracking.

“I know, I know. I probably should have waited before I told you, but I wanted you to have time to adjust to the idea.”

Teddy pulled me so close to him that I could smell his armpits, which weren’t very respectable at the moment. “You’re nervous about seeing your ma again, aren’t you?”

When he said that, I started bawling harder.

“Do you know why?”

His bony chest was hard against my ear as I shook my head.

Teddy didn’t say another word. He just kept his arm around me as I cried, his hand rubbing my curls down.

It must have been a crying kind of day, because when I got to the Starlight, more crying was what I found.

I went through the whole theater looking for Brenda but didn’t see her. So I headed up to the lit meeting room. It was empty, but the door to the catwalk was open. I figured Mr. Morgan was up
there doing some work or other, so I headed up, thinking he could tell me where Brenda was.

But it wasn’t Mr. Morgan on the catwalk. It was Brenda. Sitting at the end of one petal, her arms wrapped around her legs, her face resting on her knees. “Brenda?” I called. “What are you doing up here?”

Even in the dim light, I could see that she was crying. Still, she smiled at me. “I come up here from time to time. I have since I was little. I don’t know why. I guess I just like the solitude.”

“Solitude?”

“The quietness. Being alone.”

I sat down beside her. “Oh. Can I be alone with you?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“You sad, Brenda?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Brenda shrugged and turned away, like she wanted to cry in
solitude
some more.

“You worried about the gala? Because if you are, you shouldn’t be. Teddy told me this morning that people always get rattled when a big event is coming, worrying about every little detail, but that in the end, everything comes together. It’ll come together, Brenda.”

Brenda kept her face turned away and nodded.

“Last week when I was on vacation, I made Charlie go over ‘Sisters’ so many times that even he got sick of the song. And Charlie never gets sick of a song. I just want everything to be perfect, so I can make my ma proud. That’s all. You worried about not making your ma proud, too?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her face still turned away. “At least today. Other times, I don’t care anymore.”

“And I heard Johnny get mad at you, Brenda. You feeling bad about that, too?”

Brenda didn’t answer me, but she didn’t have to, because her eyes started leaking lots then.

“Charlie’s sensitive like you are, too,” I told her. “But just for the record, Johnny was just trying to be a good friend. He just happens to be a tad on the hotheaded side.”

Brenda got busy mopping her face. “Hey, Brenda,” I said. “You know how after the gala’s over and you start showing regular movies again? Sometimes can I come up here to watch? You know, just for old times’ sake? I miss not doing that.” Then I pointed out the petal where I always used to lie, and which hole I used to look down.

“Sure you can,” Brenda said. Then she rubbed the skin under her eyes and tilted her wrist toward the little bit of light there was. “I suppose we’d best get downstairs. There’s a few who always come early.”

Three weeks of days
came and went, and I can’t really tell you much of anything about those days because they were nothing but a busy blur, with everyone around me having nerves stretched tight as a fat man’s belt. Until finally it was the middle of August.

I was sitting on my porch steps waiting for Ma in case she decided to come a couple of weeks early when Mrs. Fry came out with Poochie’s food and water. She looked over at me and said good morning, told me Charlie would be out as soon as he cleaned the oatmeal off his shirt, then she said, “Teaspoon, a watched pot never boils.”

I suppose I looked confused because she explained what that meant. And by the time Charlie came outside, his shirt polka-dotted with wet spots, I’d thought of the perfect way to keep busy until Ma came. Me and Charlie would make a show for Ma.

Charlie thought that was a good idea. “What songs does she like?”

“Anything except funeral songs,” I told him. So we spent the whole rest of the morning testing out songs for our program.

We were right in the middle of “Shake, Rattle, and Roll,” because best I could recall, snappy songs were Ma’s favorites (though I wasn’t sure how snappy this one was going to be since Charlie kept playing it slow-Moe), when I looked up and saw the time.
“Holy cats, Charlie,” I said. “I’ve got to get to the Starlight! Mrs. Campbell and her daughter are coming to fit the Little Sisters for our dresses today.

“Brenda tried warning me about how I’d have to stand still while they tugged on our half-made dresses and put stickpins here and there, but I told her I know all about that, and as long as they have good eyes, I’ll be fine. Oh, and we’re getting our shoes today, too. I hope they make clickity noises when we walk. Gotta go, Charlie. You keep working on speeding up that song until I get back, okay?”

When I got to the Starlight, the Campbells were on the stage, two racks of bright sea-blue dresses beside them. Mrs. Campbell was pulling stickpins from a pretend tomato on her wrist and poking them along the hem of Alice Limpkins’s dress while Alice spun ever so slowly on an overturned crate. Mrs. Campbell’s daughter, Miss Campbell—both of them with faces as round as the Campbell Soup kids, so remembering their names was easy—was busy dropping one of the blue dresses over another Sunshine Sister’s head, but I couldn’t see who because her face was covered.