Shake Down the Stars (20 page)

“I
am tired of all your complainin', woman. Like I said, the past is the past. Let it go!” Detrane is standing in front of my desk, pointing at Sharayray, who flutters her hands this way and that. She wears a blond wig and an old shawl I bought at Goodwill.

“But I miss what I had! I was, like, so beautiful when I was a girl. I was, like, all virginal and sweet.”

Laughter.

It's early May, and now that my students have finished reading
Long Day's Journey into Night,
I've asked them to contemporize a scene and act it out. We have roughly fifteen minutes left until the end of the school day, but no one watches the clock because everyone is focused on Detrane and Sharayray's performance.

Detrane falls to his knee and clutches his hand to his heart. “Baby, of course I remember how beautiful you were. I wanna be there for you, but you got to give up the crack! I can't stand . . .”

Sharayray flutters her hands and waits for him to continue, but he starts gazing out the window as if
he's
become dreamy-eyed, drug-addicted Mary Tyrone. Sharayray half whispers, half barks, “Finish your line!”

Detrane points his finger and leans toward the window. “Is that . . . Isn't that . . . ?”

We all turn to see. The class is silent for a second before Tranica lets out a full-throttle squeal, “It's
Curtis Randolph
!”

The entire class stampedes toward the windows.

“Everybody, back to your seats! Back to your seats!” But I'm ignored, and giving in, look out the window to see for myself. Sure enough. In a linen suit and loafers, Curtis stands next to a long, black limo. He's talking on the phone while Tru makes his way around the car and opens the door for Margot, who's also talking on the phone, clad in a barely-there minidress. The TV crew from her reality show hustles for the best shot of the school.

My students start shouting Curtis's name. I can hear the classes on either side of us clamoring for his attention as well. I shout over the din of excitement and misplaced celebrity obsession as best I can. “Sit down this instant! I mean it!”

“But, Miss Nelson, it's Curtis Randolph!”

“Ohhhh, he's so fine!”

“Girl, I can't believe this!”

I threaten to keep them after school if they don't sit down, and reluctantly they go back to their seats, looking pitiful and pouty. I tap my hand nervously on my desk, wondering if something has happened to the girls or even Mom. Why else would they show up like this? Did something so horrible happen that they couldn't phone? Then again, why the cameras? And if there was something serious to deal with, wouldn't Margot have had the decency to wear something that reached midthigh at least?
Eh, probably not
. At any rate, it's still my intention to keep my relationship with the football player a secret, and I figure I should stop them at the pass—so to speak.

I go to the classroom door and peek out the window. “Everybody, stay put. I'll be right back.”

There's already a commotion outside. Next door, Mr. Kirsner has lost control of his class, and his students are now rushing Curtis with torn pieces of paper and notebooks, anything he might sign. Mr. Kirsner yells at everyone to get back inside the classroom while Curtis laughs and signs his autograph. Margot stands to the side, the phone still pressed to her ear. The cameramen and the guy with the enormous mic, or what I've learned is called a “boom,” try to film the chaos while Tru does his best to push students back so Curtis can have some space. Then, John Jones, part of the school's security team and always called by his full name, rushes past. “What the hell is going on in here?!” But when he sees what the commotion is about, he only goes for his walkie-talkie. “Gonzo, man, get over here right now! You won't believe who I'm looking at! Stat, man! You gotta see this!” He then raises his phone in the air and starts snapping pictures.

Hearing all the noise, my students beg to be excused, but I stay put in front of the door. “Hold on a second!”

The director of the shoot asks John Jones something, and John Jones points to my classroom. The director then says something to Tru, who leads Curtis through the crowd and right to
—“Sis!”

Curtis takes me by the neck and pulls me into his massive chest. He grips me so tightly I can't see what's going on and can only hear the hysteria breaking out. “Miss Nelson is Curtis Randolph's sister!” “Oh my God, it's Curtis Randolph! I'm going to faint!” He finally releases me, and I see all of my students on their feet and the boom above my head.

Margot makes her entrance next. “Surprise!”

Tru blocks the classroom door so no one can get in or out.

I pat my now-messed-up hair down and straighten the collar of my blouse. “What are you guys doing here?”

Curtis turns and faces his audience with a canned smile. “I am here to support MacDowell High. Thank you, youth of today!” He puts his arm around my shoulder and finds the camera guy, who's made his way to the back of the room, and grins. “I believe in our youth! I believe in our schools!”

The director begins to clap, and the students follow suit.

Meanwhile, I try to push Curtis off, but he holds on tight. “I don't want to be filmed,” I say through gritted teeth.

“This will only take a second,” he whispers back.

Margot takes my hand. She's so close, several strands of her hair stray into my face, and the director has to motion for her to stand aside a little. She does and delivers her line: “It is my good fortune to be engaged to such a generous man.” She pauses and sends Curtis an air kiss. Strands of her hair land on my mouth, and I have to blow them off. She continues. “Curtis and I talked, and we both knew we wanted to give back to the schools. We want to help in whatever way we can.”

The director holds up an actual cue card, and Curtis begins to read robotically: “That's right, Margot. Children, I want to tell you to stay in school. You want to be like me? You have to study hard. You are our future, and I am counting on you!” He and Margot let me go, and I step out of the frame. Curtis then starts shaking students' hands and signing autographs. Several students take his picture. Jessica and Maddie try to yuk it up in front of the camera until Tru asks them to step aside.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask Margot. “Why are you guys here?”

She's texting by now and hardly pays attention. “We're here to help your school.”

“Right. Sure you are. What's the real reason?”

“Can you give me a second?”

“Margot!” I'm ready to grab her phone, but then the director shouts, “Cut!” and Tru begins moving everyone back. “Time's up! Give the man some space!”

Detrane comes over, jumping straight up in the air like a spawning salmon. “I got his autograph
and
his picture!” He then hugs me. “Why didn't you tell us you know Curtis Randolph? That's mad respect, Miss Nelson.”

Margot pauses her texting long enough to look at him. “She didn't tell you?”

“You his girlfriend?” Detrane asks.

“Fiancée. I'm going to have my own TV show. My name's Margot. The show is called
Margot and Me
. Tell your friends.” She offers a hand as though expecting Detrane to bow. They shake just as the bell rings.

I throw my head back in relief.
Saved by the bell.
“Out! Everybody out! Class is over! Go home!” Tru and I work together as we force them out of the classroom.

Once they're all gone, the director closes the door. “Good work, Bart,” he says to the cameraman. “Now how about standing next to her desk for a wide-angle.”

“No, Bart,” I say. “Let's not. Put me on film and I'll sue. And you can't show the kids either. Isn't that illegal?”

“Their faces will be blurred. We're here for Curtis and Margot. Actually, it would help us out if we could get a little more interaction between you and your sister. How about a hug?”

“Please, P?”

“I don't think so.”

There's a loud slapping sound at the window. Gladys is practically smashing her face in the pane as she peers inside. “Hello!” She waves. “Miss Nelson?”

“Tru, will you let her in, please?”

There are so many people outside the door by now that even Gladys has trouble making her way into the room. “Get back,” Tru tells the onlookers. “Stay back.”

“John Jones told me what was going on,” Gladys says, her eyes locked on Curtis. She walks toward him while straightening her suit and running her hands over her stiffly coifed hair. “Hello,” she chirps.

“Curtis, this is Mrs. Edwards, our principal.”

“How do you do, Mr. Randolph. It is such an honor. And thank you so much for your donation. We are so grateful.”

“You're welcome.” Curtis takes her hand, and she does something I never would have guessed her capable of doing—Gladys giggles! She stands there and giggles as gaily as a schoolgirl. “It's such a pleasure, Mr. Randolph. Heeheehee!”

“Call me Curtis.”

“Heeheehee!”

I tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Mrs. Edwards?”

“Oh yes,” she says, taking note of Margot.

“This is my sister, Margot.”

“How do you do.”

Margot finishes a text long enough to look up. “Fine, thank you. All of this is for my TV show,
Margot and Me
. It starts next fall.”

“Oh, how exciting!”

Margot turns to the director. “Should we go to her office to finish shooting?”

“Let's do it here. We should capture how sorely in need of funds this place is. Bart, get that water stain up there.” Bart aims the camera toward the stain in the back of the room, then pans to the row of blackened windows in the back and down to the corner of the floor where the tile is coming up.

I suddenly see my room in a new light, through the eyes of strangers. Coming here day in and day out, I forget how much repair my room needs. “Hey, Bart, why don't you at least get a shot of the artwork on the wall. There's more here than dilapidation.” I point toward the pictures my students drew for last week's unit. To appease me, Bart reluctantly holds the camera on a poster or two.

“What's going on?” I ask.

Margot goes back to texting. “We need footage for the show.”

“Don't worry, Sis. It's all good.” Curtis turns back to Gladys and brings her hand to his chest.

“Heeheehee!”

“Mrs. Edwards—,” he begins.

“
Gladys.
Heehee!”

“Gladys. I'm here today to award your school some more money. I believe in student success, and I know this school needs some money. I want to give you money for scholarships and books.” He turns toward the camera and smiles.

“Oh, Mr. Randolph—
Curtis
, are you serious? You already gave us money, and we were so thankful. I just can't believe this!”

She hugs him now as he continues to grin into the camera.

The director says, “Got it,” and Curtis immediately steps out of Gladys's clutches.

“How are we ever going to thank you?” She beams.

“Don't you worry about it. I'm here to help.”

She stares up at him as if he's come down from on high. “I am such a fan, Curtis. You just don't know. I love your album. It's so nice to be able to listen to good music without all that cursing and carrying on. You're such a good role model for our youth. And thank you for taking such good care of our Raiders, too.”

“It's what I'm here for, ma'am. My book drops this time next year. I hope you read it.”

“I most certainly will!”

He gives Gladys a wink and starts to make various muscles in his arms and chest dance about, sending her into a frenzy. “Oh my!”

Show over, he says, “Now if y'all don't mind, Margot and I need a word with my sister-in-law in private. Gladys, I'll meet you in your office and tell you more about the money. First time I'll be going to the principal's office without being forced to!” He laughs.

Gladys pumps her fist into the air as she walks by me. “See you shortly, Curtis!”

Tru and the TV crew follow her out.

Curtis rests his hands on his hips and takes in the dry-erase board and all the posters and artwork.

“This is a
classroom
,” I explain. “Those things over there are
books
.”

He shakes his head and points at me. “Funny, Sis.”

“So what are you two up to?”

Margot slaps her phone shut. “Why do we have to be up to something? And why are you keeping Curtis a secret? Seems to me you'd want everyone to know you know him.”

“I want people to like me for me.”

She considers my response and decides it makes sense.

I try yet again. “So why are you two here?”

Curtis says, “The producers think it would be nice if the audience saw my more intrinsic side, and I thought of this school.”

I sigh. “You mean
altruistic
side.”

“That's what I said.”

“It's not. You said intrinsic.”

“Did not.”

“Did so.”

“Whatever. They wanna show me being nice to people.”

He tugs at his linen jacket; the diamond stud in his ear shines as bright as Venus.

“We're also here to discuss Mom,” says Margot. “P, it's been four months! You two need to start talking again.”

Curtis says, “The wedding is coming up fast, and we need you and your mother on speaking terms. We're creating a Christian TV show, and we need all hands on deck. We can't have you two fightin' and all that at the wedding.”

“We want everyone to get along,” adds Margot. “The show is about how to be a good family and how to have style and good taste.”