School of Charm (8 page)

chapter nine

I
LEFT THE HOUSE BEFORE EVERYONE GOT UP SO
I wouldn't have to see Mama's puffy eyes.
I'm out exploring!
I wrote on a note. If they knew I was going back to Miss Vernie's school, they'd probably be upset. I apologized to Daddy for the fib. It wasn't a total lie. Certainly I would do some exploring. I grabbed Earl's bowl from under the bush and headed up the road.

I hurried along Miss Vernie's driveway. It seemed curvier than I remembered. Maybe it was the morning shadows tricking me. Her wind chimes were tinkling, but the air was thick and still. The woods seemed to hum. I ran toward her house, uncertain what I was feeling.

Miss Vernie was sipping tea on her back porch when I poked my head around the corner. She was already wearing a white-and-pink-checkered dress, her makeup on, and her buttery blond hair pulled up in a bun. “Chip? You're early. I don't imagine the other girls will be getting here for a while.”

“I know. I was awake and thought I'd come over.”

She patted the chair next to her. “Sit. Let me get you a cup of tea and some cookies. I'll be right back.”

The grass was still dotted with dew, and a gang of speckled black birds settled on the ground, squawking and poking through the blades. The feathers on their bellies gleamed a dark purple color as they bounced around the lawn.

“Starlings,” Miss Vernie said, bumping the door open with her hip.

“They're loud.”

“And messy. Lots of folks hate starlings.” She shrugged. “But they deserve their time in my garden too.”

Everyone deserved time in Miss Vernie's garden. I could feel the tightness in my chest leave just looking around. Where did those bad feelings go once they wiggled away?

Miss Vernie set a china cup and plate in front of me, and sat down with a smile. We drank our tea and nibbled on cookies without saying a word. I felt closer to her right then than I did to my own mama. But how could I expect to be one of Mama's girls when I wasn't anything like her? I'd tried telling her and Grandma and my sisters that I wanted to try and be a pageant girl, and no one had hugged me or clapped or sounded happy at all. Maybe they just couldn't picture me being part of that world.

And then I realized what I had to do. The answer had found me, just like Daddy always said answers would. “Just like a lost dog, they'll show up,” he'd tell me. And my answer was pawing at the door. I would work on the pageant in secret and surprise them all on the day of the competition. Of course they hadn't been excited about my news. Who'd ever seen a tomboy beauty queen? Being a pageant girl was just so different from everything I normally did, they couldn't even imagine me that way. And working here with Miss Vernie, I wouldn't be in the way at Grandma's, arguing with her and making Mama upset. Then at the pageant it would be like
poof!
Look! Chip's a beauty queen just like us. And then, I'd belong.

I smiled. Guess I did need a charm school for beauty—and not magic—after all. I looked at Miss Vernie. “You really think someone like me can be in a pageant?”

She slid her hand over mine and gave it a good pat. “Just be yourself, and you'll be perfect.”

And suddenly all those starlings flew away like they were taking my worries along with them.

 

I
JOGGED HOME TO GET MY MONEY FOR THE PAGEANT
fee. Once Dana and Karen got to Miss Vernie's, we all piled into the back of her 1965 Cadillac. It was pale blue and musty inside and took a few turns of the key to start up. “I don't take it out much more than twice a month for groceries,” Miss Vernie said.

This was my first trip into downtown Mount Airy. I sat up and looked out the car window, curious about this new town. We lived out in the country back in New York and a trip into town was a big deal. Mount Airy was a lot busier than I was used to. The main street was filled with little shops and restaurants and a movie theater. It didn't seem horrible, but was it the nicest place in America like Mama had said? Not so far.

Our first stop was Town Hall. The clerk glanced up when we walked in. She was a big black woman who looked like she spent the entire day camped out on that stool.

“We are here to register for the Miss Dogwood pageant,” Miss Vernie said.

“Mmhmm,” the clerk said. “You girls are joining the pageant?” She looked at each one of us, and I wonder what she saw that made her frown.

“Yes, we are,” Miss Vernie said, clutching her purse.

The clerk opened a drawer and pushed some forms toward us. I filled out the questions, and I wrote down Grandma's information under home address. That was my home now. But when I filled out my name, I wrote Brenda Anderson. That didn't mean I was Brand-New Brenda, but writing Chip wouldn't do. What if they called me that onstage? It just didn't sound like a pageant girl's name.
Sorry, Daddy
,
I thought.
Sorry I'm not using your nickname for me.
Then, with a shaky hand, I handed over my five-dollar bill. I was officially in the Miss Dogwood Festival. A beauty pageant. My knees wobbled.

The clerk stared at my birthmark when she took my money.

Karen whistled as she filled out her paperwork. She handed it over with her money and then clapped. “It's official!” she squealed.

Dana paid with rumpled dollar bills. We looked away as she counted out the last two dollars in pennies and dimes.

The clerk frowned, waiting for her. “So you're entering
this
pageant?” she asked, counting the pennies Dana had given her. Her eyes darted back and forth between the three of us girls.

Dana stared at her for a moment. “Yes, I am, ma'am.”

“What are you thinking, child? This here's a white girl's pageant.” She said the word
white
like it had five letter
i
's in it.

Dana planted a fist on her hip and gave the clerk the same squinty hard look Charlene had used on me. “There's no reason I can't join too.” She held out her other hand, waiting for the form.

Dana sure was confident about entering. I tried tipping my chin up in the air like she did, wondering if it would make me feel different. Then I sighed, because it really didn't help.

The clerk closed her eyes and shook her head, handing back the papers. “Make sure you're there two hours early the day of the competition. It's four weeks from tomorrow.”

Dana walked outside alone.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, catching up and touching her arm. “Is there another pageant you could join?”

Dana pulled her arm away.

My mouth opened and closed. “I just . . . I'm just looking out for you.”

Dana marched off ahead of me, her legs looking extra-long in her cutoff shorts. I watched her walk away.

“Are we going to look for the dresses now?” Karen asked when we stopped in front of the window of Belk department store. Three mannequins stared out, looking bored with the long strapless dresses they wore. “My mom gave me fifty dollars to spend.”

Dana's eyes bulged. “I don't have that kind of cash.”

Maybe the two of us had more in common than we'd thought, because I didn't want to waste the rest of my money on an expensive dress. I leaned toward her. “I'm not buying one in there either.”

Dana looked at me and I swear she almost smiled. It was a good feeling. I followed Miss Vernie and Karen inside. Then Dana came in too.

Karen grabbed a puffy pink dress that reminded me of a cupcake. “I love this. It's so me!” It also happened to be the most expensive dress in the store: forty-eight dollars.

I didn't even look through the dresses and neither did Dana.

“That's very nice, Karen,” said Miss Vernie. “Look at this, Chip.” She came over to me holding a sky blue dress with tiny straps. I'd never worn a dress so fancy.

I wouldn't take it from her. “These are all kind of expensive,” I said, glancing at Dana, then staring back at the beautiful blue material. “Maybe we should check the thrift store down the street?”

“This one's on sale. Just see how it looks,” Miss Vernie said. She held it out in front of me until I grabbed it and went into the dressing room to put it on.

My mouth dropped open when I looked in the mirror. I didn't recognize myself. I didn't know why, but my heart was hammering and my palms felt sweaty. I turned round and round in front of the mirror, smiling. I stepped out to show the girls; I studied the ground, imagining Billy standing there with his eyes glued on me, and not laughing, either. My stomach tightened. I shook that image from my mind like I was clearing my Etch A Sketch.

“Oh, Chip. That dress is for you. I can take it in a bit. It's lovely. Just lovely,” Miss Vernie said.

I kept my head down like I could hide my big smile. This dress would make me look like a real contestant—like Mama. I just knew it. But I couldn't face Dana when I handed my twenty-dollar bill to the cashier.

Miss Vernie tried holding up a few dresses, but Dana shook her head each time. Miss Vernie put her arm around Dana. “You're right. None of these are good enough for you. The girls can get away with party dresses in the junior division, but Miss Dogwood needs a gown. A gown fit for a queen. And I happen to have a few at home.”

We rode back to Miss Vernie's in silence. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the sky-blue dress with a sparkling crown on my head, Mama and Grandma waving and smiling from the crowd, and Daddy and Billy in back, nudging each other in the ribs.

chapter ten

“I
JUST DON'T BELIEVE IT
,” M
ISS
V
ERNIE SAID
. “T
HAT
gown fits like it's been waiting for you.”

Dana grinned so hard I thought her cheeks must hurt. She stood on a stool in Miss Vernie's living room, wearing a violet gown that hugged her form. Of the six she'd tried on, there was no question: this was the winner. Thin strips of rhinestones held up the sparkly material. She looked like a goddess, with a sky full of stars sewn right into her dress.

Miss Vernie was a lot shorter than Dana, so I don't know how one of her old dresses fit so well. But it was truly perfect.

“It looks really, really great!” I said.

Dana didn't say anything.

“Why do you have so many gowns, Miss Vernie?” Karen asked. “Were you in pageants too?”

Miss Vernie nodded and fluffed the bottom of Dana's dress.

“How'd you do?” I asked. Grandma never said how Miss Vernie had placed when they were in the same pageant together.

“I held my own.” The smile she was trying to hide broke through her tight lips.

 

E
ACH OF US WAS TUCKED AWAY IN OUR OWN DAYDREAM
as we picked at our lunch in Miss Vernie's dining room. “How come we haven't lost any more charms?” I finally asked.

“It must not be your time. Sometimes a lesson is learned like that.” Miss Vernie snapped her fingers. “Other times it takes a while to steep, like a nice cup of tea. And sometimes you need that hot water to bring the lesson out.” She raised an eyebrow and drank from her teacup.

I looked around the room, thinking about what she meant. A picture of a handsome young man in uniform sat on her piano.

Karen noticed it too. “Is that guy your husband or something?”

Miss Vernie closed her eyes and swallowed. “No, dear. I was never married.”

“You've lived here all by yourself?” I asked. “In this great big house?”

“This is the house I grew up in. My parents' house.” She pushed her chair away from the table. “Let me go get dessert.” The door swung closed behind her with a loud
whoosh
.

“Would you two stop pestering her with questions?” Dana snapped as soon as Miss Vernie was out of earshot. “Some people have very good reasons for not talking about their past.” She crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip.

“Aren't you curious?” Karen asked.

“No. Me and Daddy don't like it when people nose around wondering why it's just the two of us living in our apartment. We're just fine, the two of us, and it's no one's business what happened to my mama.”

Billy never wanted to talk about his father either. Although, Billy's daddy had gone missing on purpose. I was really curious about Dana's mama. Guess Dana was like Grandma, deciding it was best to not pay mind to old hurts.

“You don't have any brothers or sisters?” Karen asked.

“I said, it's none of your business,” Dana replied coolly.

Karen shrugged. “I think you're lucky. I'd give anything to get rid of my stepbrothers.”

The clock ticked on the fireplace mantel as we sat there with nothing else to say. I pinched a piece of salmon into Earl's bowl, but he didn't go after it. I had no idea turtles were so sleepy. He was about as busy as the clay turtle I'd made. They sat together like tiny statues.

After a few minutes Miss Vernie came back with the Jell-O and whipped cream in pretty crystal bowls, but she never told us about the man in the picture. And none of us asked again.

 

W
E SPENT THE AFTERNOON LAZING AROUND
M
ISS
V
ERNIE'S
living room in our dresses so she could take them in and shorten them. I flinched each time Miss Vernie came at me with a pin. Dana flipped through a magazine since her dress fit her fine to begin with.

When she was done making the adjustments, Miss Vernie slumped back on her couch and fanned herself. “It's been a long day. Why don't you girls run along and start thinking about your talents for the pageant? We've got four weeks to go. You'll need to start working on them tomorrow.”

“Is it okay if we pull reeds in the pond?” I asked quietly.

“You've done so much already. And it's the hottest part of the day,” Miss Vernie said, still fanning herself. “I swear it must be one hundred degrees. And we haven't had rain in weeks! Hottest, driest summer I can remember.”

“I don't mind. We'll cool off that way,” I said.

“I'll come,” Dana said, tossing her magazine aside. I wondered if Dana liked being in that pond just as much as I did.

Karen rolled her eyes. “Fine, I'll help.”

“If you girls think you're up to it. Have at it.” She waved us off.

We changed out of our dresses and carried the shovels back to the pond. It was still surrounded by that thick ridge of weeds.

I squinted at the area we had already cleared. “Look at that!” Glossy green lily pads floated where the cattails used to be. A big white flower bloomed on the surface of the water.

“Those weren't there yesterday,” Dana said.

Karen groaned. “Do you think we need to dig those up too?”

“No! They're pretty,” I said.

“I hope not. There are still loads of cattails to pull out,” Dana said. “We'll ask Miss Vernie about them later.”

We stood there eyeing them up for a while. Finally I asked, “Same as yesterday?”

Dana nodded, and we started our team attack on the cattails. We got it down to a rhythm.
Thwuck!
went the weeds and the mud when Karen jumped on the shovel.
Glunk!
answered my shovel, breaking the roots underneath. And finally
splat!
as Dana tossed the mound onshore.

Thwuck, glunk, splat! Thwuck, glunk, splat! Thwuck, glunk, splat!

“We're making good progress, don't you think, Dana?” I asked.

She shrugged. I wondered if she was still mad about what I'd said yesterday about the pageant. Dana was nice enough to Karen and Miss Vernie. Why not me? I thought about how I'd tried so hard to make things work with Grandma, complimenting her dolls and staying out of the secret room. A bad thought popped into my head. If I couldn't get Dana to like me, how could I expect to get someone as tough as Grandma to like me? Could it ever feel like home if I was living with someone who couldn't stand me? With that worry nagging me, I got back to work.

After a few hours, we crawled to the shore and examined the clouds in the sky.

“I suppose that's good for today,” Dana said. “I'm going to have to go home now and do laundry for me and my dad.” She blew out a breath. “Sometimes I do wish I had a brother or sister just to help with the chores. I'm exhausted.”

“Too bad pulling cattails can't be our talent,” I said, my breath finally slowing. “I've got nothing.” I was sure that playing “Chopsticks” on the piano didn't count.

“I know all the words to every Jackson Five song,” Karen offered.

“But can you sing them good?” Dana asked.

Karen opened her mouth to try, but a laugh bubbled out instead. “When my record player's going on full volume, I can.”

“What do you like doing for fun?” I asked Karen. “Maybe that could be a talent.”

“I've tried lots of things, but nothing's stuck. Not piano, not tap dancing, not violin. My mom says she'll sign me up for whatever lessons I want, but I don't know what I want to do.” She sighed. “I like painting my nails.” She spread out her chubby fingers, showing off chipped pink polish.

“I'm pretty sure that doesn't count,” I said, picturing her onstage at a pageant, painting her nails, everyone sitting on the edge of their seats wondering if she was going to drop the bottle or smudge a tip. “Maybe you could do your toes too.”

Karen stuck out her tongue at me. “Like I said, I haven't found my thing yet. That's why I like being here. I can do nothing and nobody nags me about it.”

“What about you?” I asked Dana. “What's your talent?”

She closed her eyes. “I can sing. That's one thing I can do.”

I closed my eyes too and ran my fingers over my bracelet. Three charms were still hanging from it: the heart, the flower, and the ballet slipper. What lessons did I still have to learn? Not ballet lessons, that's for sure. What the heck was I going to do for the talent portion? I had to find something, and I couldn't ask Mama for help because then she'd know what I was up to.

Once we left the pond, our easy way disappeared again. We waved good-bye to Miss Vernie and each of us headed down her driveway alone. Dana took off ahead of us without saying good-bye, and Karen coasted along on her bike. I followed slowly, daydreaming about Mama and Grandma seeing me onstage come pageant day. Would Mama look surprised or more like happy?

My daydreams dried up when I heard explosions down the road.
Too fast and too loud to be thunder
,
I thought.
Fireworks, maybe?

I jogged down the hill. The noise was coming from Grandma's house. I stashed Earl under a pine tree and ran up the driveway and into the backyard. Birds swirled overhead, screaming.

Grandma cocked the rifle she was holding and blasted it in the air. “Get! Get out of here!”
Boom!
She fired again, pressing the long rifle against her shoulder, bracing herself on her high heels. The skirt of her dress swung from the force of the shot.

It rained feathers. Black, speckled feathers. A body dropped from the sky.

“What's she doing?” I screamed to Mama. “Why is she shooting the birds?” Was she trying to add to her dead animal collection?

Mama held her hands over her ears. “They're starlings! Awful creatures!” she shouted.

Ruthie crouched between Mama's legs, and Charlene watched from inside. She looked at me through the family room window and put her hands to her ears.

Grandma wasn't letting up. She cocked the rifle and fired again and again and again.

“Stop!” I yelled. “Stop, Grandma!”

She fired one more time and set down the gun. “Out of ammo,” she said, wiping her brow.

“Why did you have to kill them?” My hands were shaking. “They're just birds!”

Grandma looked at me and shook her head. “Starlings aren't just birds, Brenda. They're beasts. They're loud. And they make a terrible mess.” She waved her hand in the air. “And they chase away the pretty birds, the cardinals and the blue jays.”

We stood there, staring at Grandma's lawn, now littered with seven dead birds.

Grandma picked up her rifle and walked past me. “Your mother says you have a knack for taking care of injured animals, Brenda. I'm sure you've buried a few. Take care of these, won't you?”

I looked at Mama. She lifted her chin like she was going to tell Grandma I'd never had to bury an animal that'd been killed on purpose. But Mama's shoulders slumped and she shrugged. “Use garden gloves, Chip, and a wheelbarrow. Just dump them out back in the woods, all right?”

My jaw dropped, but Mama didn't see it because she was leading Ruthie inside with one hand against the curls on her head. Ruthie glanced back at me, sucking furiously on her thumb. She'd started doing that again after Daddy died.

I asked Grandma for her garden gloves, but she wouldn't let me use them. “And touch those filthy creatures with them? I don't think so.” She found me a pair of clear plastic gloves like you use for painting and a big black garbage bag. Then she went inside.

“You know, every day hundreds of children across America get horrible diseases from picking up dead birds!” I shouted, even though everyone was already inside. But that couldn't be true. I bet there wasn't one other kid in all of America who had to do such an awful job.

Flies buzzed around the mangled bodies as I stood over the birds, trying not to look at their dark, desperate eyes. I'd never seen anyone purposely kill another creature.

And I'd never missed Daddy so much. Billy, either. My hands shook and I choked back a cry just thinking about them. They would have been just as sad and mad as me, and they would have helped me clean up that nasty mess. I was going to write Billy another letter and tell him all about this. He wouldn't believe that I had a bird-killing grandma who I was supposed to get along with. This was the opposite of the Coolest Thing Ever. It was the Worst Thing Ever. And it was looking more and more like I'd never fit in this family. My heart was nowhere near being back in place. No wonder I hadn't seen any sign from Daddy. I pressed my hands against my face as the tears finally came out, wetting the plastic gloves.

When I finished bawling, I got to work. “Sorry,” I said to each bird as I picked it up and stuffed it in the bag. “I'm sorry, sorry, sorry.” Tears dripped off my face and onto their still bodies. I didn't understand how she could hate animals so much. How could my own grandmother be so different from me?