Teen Angel (25 page)

“Ruben,” she whispered into the class.

He did not look up. A guy standing next to him tapped him on the shoulder. Ruben looked up momentarily, saw Sonny, and went back to working on something that looked like the inside of a toaster.

“RUBEN!” she whispered louder. He ignored her.

Sonny returned to Study with a heart as heavy as a watermelon. All afternoon, she doodled pretty girls with long ponytails in the margin of her looseleaf.
What’s red and sits in the comer crying? A baby chewing razor blades
.

Everyone was waiting outside by the time Sonny joined them. They walked to the Gooch’s house in pairs. The Gooch and D.B. in front, followed by Mary Kelly and Marilyn, Dot and Hansy, and Sonny behind them. Dot kept trying to get her to join them but she chose to walk alone. No one liked her anymore. Even though she had her period, she felt like she did when she was little and the big kids wouldn’t let her play with them, even though she was taller than them all. But she had trailed after them anyway. Then they let her be the Monkey in the Middle.

“Hey, did you hear the one about the obscene telephone caller?” Sonny said loudly.

D.B. and the Gooch turned around and looked at each other, making faces. “No,” Dot said. “What happened?”

“Well, this guy calls up,” Sonny continued loudly, so they’d
hear her in the front of the line, “and a little girl answers. He says, breathing heavily, ‘I want to talk to your mother.’ ‘She’s not at home,’ the little girl says sweetly. ‘Your older sister …’ ‘I don’t have one.’ The guy’s breathing by this time is getting really heavy. ‘Your grandmother,’ he says. ‘She’s not at home’ ‘Are you home all alone?’ ‘Just me,’ she says. ‘Here goes: COCKY, DOODY, PISS, NUMBER TWO, SISSY … AHHHH!’ Isn’t that cute?”

D.B. and the Gooch shook their heads snottily. Mary Kelly whispered something to Marilyn which made her crack up. But Dot laughed her head off. “Ha ha ha! That was real funny. Didn’t you think so?” she asked Hansy. There was a dead silence.

“What about the deaf mute,” Sonny continued without pausing, “who tries to buy a scumbag at the drugstore. You see, he’s got this girl waiting for him in a hotel room. Anyway, he tries to use sign language.” She made the motions.

“You are just too much,” D.B. mumbled.

Sonny raced to finish, ignoring D.B. “But nothing works. He’s desperate. Finally, he puts five dollars on the counter and whips out his thing. Well, the druggist opens his fly and shows his thing. Since his is bigger, he takes the guy’s five bucks.”

No one laughed. “I didn’t really get it,” Dot said.

The Gooch walked over to where Sonny stood. “Palovsky, you really think you’re something,” the Gooch said. “You walk around shaking your little ass like Christ kissed it. And now that you’ve got Ruben, you really think you’re God’s gift.” She spat on the ground.

“No, I don’t,” Sonny said.

“You’re just a chickenshit–” She moved closer to Sonny.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–” Sonny backed off.

“Sorry, shit. Why don’t you go back to the SP where you belong, with all the other little Jew snobs!” She pushed Sonny and then walked back to where D.B. was standing.

Everyone was looking at Sonny. She trembled like a milkshake maker.
Did she really belong with the SP creeps?
She’d never be as
tough as the Gooch but she had thought she’d made a pretty decent Teen Angel. And then, like a damn fairy, she had apologized and acted like she had spaghetti
al dente
for a spine.

“Okay, come on, you all,” D.B. said. “We still have a bull session, so let’s go.”

Sonny wanted to bow out.
So long. Au revoir. See you later, flagellators
. But if she did that, she knew it would all be over. So she followed into the unlocked building on 170th Street, up five flights of stairs. The Gooch unlocked the door.

She was surprised by how poor and depressing everything looked.

A bridge table covered with a plastic table cloth was used to eat on. The windows had paper shades that were ripping, and they only had metal chairs to sit on. A framed picture of the Madonna holding Christ as a baby hung over the table.

“You can sit down wherever you want,” the Gooch said. So far, she had not acknowledged Sonny. She looked at everyone else.

Sonny tried to sit next to D.B. but D.B. put her hand on the chair and said it was saved. She sat down on the other side of the room, next to Hansy.

“Did anyone let Crystal know?” D.B. asked.

“I tried to call her,” Marilyn said, “but no one was home.”

The Gooch sat down in the seat that D.B. had said she was saving. Sonny pretended not to notice.

No one would look directly at Sonny. Not even Dot.
What’s going on?
She was supposed to be with her gang, and instead she felt like an orphan. The Gooch’s eyes looked hard and mean.

Mary Kelly held the notebook. She said, “Let’s begin at the top. Who’s got the best hair?”

“I think D.B. has the best hair,” Marilyn said.

“So do I,” Hansy added.

D.B. ran her fingers through her hair proudly but said, “I think Mary has the best hair.”

“The Gooch,” Dot said.

“D.B.,” Mary said, turning her head so her ponytail swung.

It was Sonny’s turn. Secretly, she thought hers was the best because it was thick and shiny. But she followed everyone and said, “D.B.”

Mary counted votes and wrote down D.B.’s name on the line reserved for hair.

“Who has the worst hair?” Mary asked.

The vote was unanimous. Everyone agreed that Sonny’s was the worst. She was speechless.

The next item was eyes. Sonny figured that she had that one wrapped up. Everyone always complimented her, since she was little, and said that her eyes were like Elizabeth Taylor’s. She felt confident. They couldn’t take that away from her.

“D.B.”

“Crystal, even though she’s not here.”

“D.B.”

“The Gooch.”

The Gooch? She had what her mother called “cow eyes,” which looked like loose buttons that were about to fall off. D.B. voted for the Gooch too. Sonny could hardly believe it. She didn’t get a single vote, except her own. Mary wrote down the Gooch’s name.

“Who has the worst eyes?”

Dot got that one without competition. And she wasn’t even surprised. She knew they crossed all the time.

Noses were next. Sonny’s was nothing to brag about. It hooked like her father’s, a little bit, but it
was petite
in comparison to the Gooch’s anteater.

“D.B. has the best nose.”

“D.B.”

“I think D.B.’s got the nicest nose.”

“D.B.”

Mary wrote down D.B.’s name, which was no surprise either. Hers turned up pertly like the models in
Seventeen
.

“Who’s got the worst nose?”

The voting was unanimous again. Sonny, it was agreed, had the ugliest nose.

“But,” she interrupted, “the Gooch’s is much bigger than mine. And it hooks down further.”

“Yes, but hers has an interesting shape,” D.B. said.

Sonny sank into the chair. If her nose was worse than the Gooch’s she didn’t deserve to live. And what about her eyes? Had everyone been lying to her all those years? She desperately wanted to check everything out in a mirror.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “You know, I’ve got my friend and all.”

“She can’t take hearing the truth,” the Gooch said as she walked down the long hallway to the bathroom.

“Yeah,” Marilyn jeered.

It was filthy. Hairs were stuck in the sink and there were no shower curtains. Sonny’s reflection looked exactly like it had that morning and the day before. Nothing was different. She felt close to tears again.

Marilyn got the best mouth; Mary Kelly got the worst. You had to be blind to overlook her bucks. Next came chins. Sonny knew with her father’s cleft and the way her jaw stuck out, she’d be slaughtered.

It was agreed that Dot had the best chin. She had to have the best something although who cared about chins. Sonny got the worst.

The bull session went on to bodies. D.B., of course, got the best tits. Sonny got worst.

“Hey listen, I hate to be a spoilsport but I have more than Mary,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” the Gooch grumbled.

Marilyn got the best waistline, Sonny got the worst. Hansy got the best hips, Sonny got the worst. And she had the worst legs too.

Next came personality, intelligence, sexiness, and popularity. It was agreed that Sonny got worst in all categories. D.B. and the Gooch shared the best.

Sonny stood up, grabbed her stuff, and walked out. “When she reached the bottom stair, she threw her books and sat down. She couldn’t go out. They had all agreed. Even Dot. It was unanimous. How could she have been such a loser all these years and no one told her? Sonny cried miserably until she heard an apartment door open upstairs. She gathered her things.

When she got home, she was relieved to find a note from her mother saying that she had taken Mike for a pair of sneakers. Sonny went into her bedroom, turned off the lights, and got under the cover of her bed with all her clothes on.
Here lies Sonny Palovsky. She died of a terminal case of homeliness
. She tried to hold her breath, but that didn’t work. She wrapped the blanket around her face but couldn’t suffocate. So she went to supper when her mother called.

That evening while she was composing a will, leaving her transistor radio to Mike and her pearl ring with the gold prongs to Dot, the telephone rang.

“Sonny? Listen, I have to tell you something,” Dot said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not supposed to, but that whole bull session was planned by the Gooch. She made us all agree with her.”

“You mean my nose isn’t worse than the Gooch’s?”

“Are you kidding!”

“Thank God!” Sonny exclaimed with relief.

“Please don’t tell anyone I told you. Okay? I could get into a lot of trouble. Hey, you going to walk to school tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Can we walk together again?”

“I really want to,” Sonny said. “You know, I was just getting ready to leave you my ring if I died.”

“The one with the pearl? You’d do that for me?” Dot asked.

“You’re a real friend.”

Dot said, “I felt real bad today when I saw you. That was so mean what they did. But the Gooch said you were getting snotty.”

“So it was really planned and my nose isn’t worse than the Gooch’s? And my figure and popularity?”

“It was all planned.”

“You promise?” Sonny said.

“Yeah. I swear on my mother’s head.”

“You don’t know how much better I feel. I mean, I wasn’t exactly upset,” Sonny said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t vote for you. I really think you have
gorgeous
eyes. But I couldn’t. The Gooch would have murdered me. Are you mad?” Dot asked.

“No, she’s real scary.”

“Did you ever notice that look she gets in her eyes? like she could kill you. It’s spooky.”

“Thanks, Dot. Really,” Sonny said.

“I better get off before my mother starts screaming. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You bet.”

She didn’t have the worst nose, tits, and personality. Sonny took three jumps as she walked back to her room.
Everything would be just fine. Superfine
. But she was lying, and this time she almost had enough brains not to believe herself.

“Please …”

“Don’t ask me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Then?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“You let me touch you last time.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. I was there.”

“Well, that was different.”

“What do you mean, different?”

“My ‘friend’ came back to visit.”

“What?”

“Lower your voice. You know, my ‘friend.’”

“Who?”

Couldn’t Ruben figure out anything?
Dumkopf
. Did she have to spell everything out for him? He was supposed to be experienced. “I’ve got my period again.”

“But it ended last week.”

“Well, it came back again. Full force.”

“Shit,” Ruben groaned.

Actually the crotch of Sonny’s panties was white as Doris Day’s teeth, but he didn’t have to know that. Ever since they had gotten back together, Ruben wouldn’t stop trying to stick his grubby paws down her drawers. And that time under the Westside Highway, she had let him because she was so grateful when he came back to her. But now if it was up to her, she’d be pleading her “friend” for as long as she could.

“Well, how come you were talking about someone visiting?”

“Because that’s what you’re supposed to say in mixed company.” She moved several inches away from him. For a change of scenery, they were in the stairway between the fourth and fifth floors where the teachers were too busy patrolling the hallways to bother them.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter,” Ruben said, sliding across the stair. He threw himself on top of Sonny again.

“Ruben!” she cried angrily, pushing him off. “If I have my ‘friend’ and you start mauling me, the Modess will squish and I’ll end up looking like I was in a shoot-out on
Gunsmoke
. So will you.”

“I’ll be careful,” Ruben pleaded. “I promise.”

“You’re always promising. And then you do whatever you want.”

“When?” Ruben demanded like he was offended. The saint.

“Last week. You said you’d stop and when I trusted you for two seconds, you went at me like Jack the Raper.”

“Ripper,” he corrected her.

“Well, you get the idea.”

“Come on,” Ruben pleaded. “Don’t be an Indian-giver.”

He ought to sell watches on Times Square. All he wanted was for her to touch it or for her to let him touch her. And he’d say anything to get it. “I love you so much. I can’t live without you. You’ve made me so happy.” She wanted to scream: “NO TOUCHING THE MERCHANDISE!
Se habla Español
. No ticky, no washy. Fuck off, mister!” But Ruben was her boyfriend. They went steady. She wore his tie clip and had someone to hang around with. That was something. That was a lot, but so was
it
.

“Please …” Ruben moaned like a dying man making his final request. “Oh Sonny, don’t be like that.”