Georgie's Moon (11 page)

Lisa's face turned bright red. “Sorry, Ma.”

“I'm afraid we only have one biscuit each.”

“That's fine, Mrs. Loutzenhiser. Really, this is just great.” Georgie wished Lisa's mom would relax.

Denny put a biscuit on his plate, leaving the last one. He started to pass the plate to Lisa, hesitated, then coughed right onto Lisa's biscuit. “Sorry about that,” he said with a sly grin. “Man, my germs are all over it now. Guess you won't want it.”

Lisa's face fell.

“Really, Denny!” Mrs. Loutzenhiser said. “Next time please cover your mouth.”

“Sure, Ma.” He plopped the biscuit onto his plate. Georgie heard him whisper to Lisa, “Too bad for you, stickpin.”

“You're so mean,” Lisa said.

“And you're ugly,” Denny said. “I can always act nice, but nothing's gonna make you cute.”

Georgie waited for Lisa to say something back, but instead she bit into her piece of chicken. Denny buttered his biscuit, turned to Georgie, and chuckled. She glanced at his parents. Their heads were bent over their plates as if they were so wrapped up in their own thoughts they didn't even notice their kids.

After dinner, Mr. Loutzenhiser said, “You'll have to visit more often, Georgie. It's good to see some loyalty to the good old U.S. of A. in this house. Good, indeed.” He squeezed Georgie's shoulder and walked into the television room.

Georgie wanted so much to follow and beg to watch the news. But Lisa's dad thought she was here to do homework. She had the feeling he was pretty strict about that stuff, so she figured she'd better forget about the news tonight. Maybe she could come back now that there wasn't a TV at home. He'd said she should visit more.

Georgie followed Lisa to her bedroom and sat at the window. She had as good a view of the moon from here as if she were outside.

Lisa still hadn't warmed to Georgie's unexpected visit, so Georgie decided it was time to pull out her big gun. She unfolded Lisa's poem, got out her notebook from her duffel bag, and began writing.

“Hey, that's my poem!” Lisa said.

“Sure, it is. I told you I wanted a copy. Sorry it's taken me so long.” Georgie looked at Lisa with what she hoped was a sincere expression.

“Oh! No problem! I forgot you'd taken it.”

“And I forgot I had it.”

Both girls laughed.

“There.” Georgie laid down the pen and handed Lisa the original poem. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome!” Lisa looked happy as she put it back in the box with the other poems.

Georgie closed the notebook with the poem inside and put it in her bag. It was a small price to pay to get to spend the night away from Mom.

Georgie walked over to Carla's bed. “Think your sister will mind me using her bed?”

“No, she hasn't been home in almost a month.”

Georgie looked at the wall. The newspaper articles about Kent State stared back at her. She knew she should let it go since she had bullied her way into sleeping here tonight, but she just couldn't.

“Look, I appreciate the bed and all, but I can't stand this.” She yanked the tacks out and laid the articles facedown on Carla's dresser.

“That's okay. I probably won't put 'em back. If Dad saw them, he'd blow up anyway.”

Georgie climbed into bed. Fighting with her mom had taken more out of her than she'd realized. Later, she didn't even remember saying good night to Lisa.

*   *   *

Georgie cracked open one eye, not sure if she had heard something. She turned onto her stomach. Then she heard Lisa cry out. Lifting up onto her elbows, she saw Lisa throw back her blankets and spring at Denny.

Awake now, Georgie saw Denny's eyes widen as he sidestepped her. He dropped a string and turned to run. Lisa fell to her knees, groping for whatever he had dropped.

Georgie leaped from her bed and pounced on Denny, dragging him to the floor.

“Are you nuts?” he said. “Get off!”

“Not until I hear what's going on,” Georgie said.

Lisa pushed her hair off her face and panted. “Talk!”

“What? I didn't do anything,” Denny struggled. Georgie pulled him up and let go.

“Liar!” Lisa said.

Denny lunged toward the door, but Georgie grabbed him.

“I just went to take a whiz and thought I heard someone call my name,” Denny said. “The next thing I know, Lisa's yelling and you're all over me.”

“Ooh!” Lisa growled, obviously too mad to get the words out of her mouth.

“What really happened?” Georgie asked her.

Lisa breathed deeply and said, “He tied a string to my journal key and swung it to tickle my face! If I hadn't woken up, he would've had my key!”

Georgie rubbed her eyes, still gritty from sleep. “Is that all? Denny, beat it.”

Denny scrambled out the door.

Lisa said, “You let him
go?
This isn't any of your business, Georgie!”

Georgie crawled back into bed, resting against the headboard. She pulled the covers over her knees and said, “Go back to sleep. It's only five-thirty, for heaven's sake.”

“I'm too mad.”

“Listen. I know that journal is some big deal to you, so Denny has to know it, too. If he knew the key was under your lamp, he could come in and get it any old time, right?”

“Yeah. So what?”

“So that means Denny wanted you to know he was taking it.”

Lisa finally threw herself back onto her bed. “Okay, then why did he do it?”

“To get your goat. Geez, Lisa. You have
got
to stop letting people get to you. If you don't stand up for yourself, you'll be pegged for weak your whole life.” Georgie plumped the pillow. “Grow a backbone, will ya?”

Lisa sat there, letting it sink in. Then her eyes grew big. She jumped off the bed and onto all fours, feeling around. When she found the key, she ripped the string off.

“I'll try, but first I've got to find a better hiding place.”

She rubbed her hand over her headboard. She finally found a small crack in the wood, just big enough to slip the key into.

Georgie grumbled from beneath her covers, “Would you go back to sleep!”

“Okay, but only so I can dream about wrapping my fingers around his scrawny neck until the last breath leaves his body.”

“Just don't talk in your sleep,” Georgie mumbled.

13

“How about I drop you girls off at school?” Mr. Loutzenhiser said at breakfast. “That duffel bag will be hard to handle on the bus.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” Lisa said. “It's a long ride.”

Lisa and Georgie got into his backseat. Georgie had thought about calling her mom before they left but didn't know what to say. When she realized Mr. Loutzenhiser was taking a route that was a few blocks from her house, she asked him if he'd stop by so she could drop off the bag.

When she got out of the car, Mom was outside, helping John out of his mother's car.

John saw her first. “There's Georgie!”

“Oh, Georgie!” Mom said. She threw her arms around Georgie and this time Georgie hesitated only a second, then hugged her, too.

“Lisa's dad is taking us to school and I've gotta hurry.”

“Okay, let me have this.” Mom took the bag from Georgie and walked over to the car. “Thank you for taking good care of my daughter.”

“No problem,” Mr. Loutzenhiser said. “It was a pleasure to have her.”

“So, I'll see you after school, okay?” Georgie said.

Mom smiled and nodded.

Georgie pushed her cap back and knelt beside John. It had eaten at her that he thought she left because of him. “And you, big guy, are getting very good at being a soldier.”

“I am?” John asked.

“Yep, you got me good yesterday, didn't you?”

He nodded. “But you left.”

“Not because you hit me with a ball.” Georgie stood. “I have to get to school now, so you'll be in charge of the house until I get back. Think you can handle that?”

“Yeah!”

Georgie saluted him. He saluted back with a face that was beaming.

Stopping at Georgie's home had made the girls tardy. Since they had already missed most of homeroom, they hung out at Lisa's locker until it was time for first period.

Georgie said, “Hey, Loutzenhiser, I just wanted to say thanks. I mean, I know I put you on the spot last night but I had fun. And I could have, you know, done worse picking out a new friend.”

Lisa grinned and threw her arms around Georgie. “Oh, me, too!”

“Yeah, well, you don't have to get weird about it.” Georgie shrugged her off, even though she didn't really mind.

When homeroom ended, they walked to social studies class. Mr. Hennessy wasn't there yet. Maybe they'd have a substitute! Subs usually gave study time instead of a lesson. Georgie brightened at the thought, so she ran a few steps ahead of Lisa and slid to her desk as if it were home base.

She hadn't really done it for laughs, but the quiet in the room was sobering. Was Mr. Hennessy in the back? She looked around. No teacher. Kathy Newman's desk was empty, and Angel, who always sat behind her, was softly crying. The boy next to Angel looked pale.

Georgie glanced at the other kids. “What's going on?” she asked. Lisa sat at her desk. She shrugged. No one answered. Georgie could tell most of them were without a clue.

When the bell rang, Mr. Hennessy shuffled in.

“Hi, guys,” he said quietly. He usually bounced into a room so animated you wondered if his clock was wound too tight. Something was definitely up.

Mr. Hennessy scooted papers back from the edge of his desk and sat on the corner.

“Some of you've heard, but for those of you who don't know…” He took a deep breath and started over. “Look, guys, there's just no easy way to tell you.”

Georgie felt dread pulling her deep into her seat. Maybe he'd just announce that there was a pop quiz or that they were all flunking or something.

“Kathy Newman's family got word last night,” he said. “Her brother, Brian, was killed in Vietnam.”

Someone gasped. Angel began sobbing. A girl ran over and hugged her.

Georgie didn't know Kathy's brother, but, God, she didn't want to hear he'd died. Especially not in Vietnam. She looked at Kathy's empty desk. Then she looked at Lisa. Her hands covered her face, and she was clearly crying.

“Man, I remember Brian. He held the school record for the mile run,” the boy in front of Georgie said. “He was a cool guy.”

“Yes, he was,” Mr. Hennessy said. “I taught him.”

He went to the board and began writing. “Get out a sheet of paper, please, and write down Kathy's address. You or your parents might want to send a note of condolence.”

At that moment Georgie wanted her dad more than ever. She ripped a paper out of her three-ring binder, but instead of writing Kathy's address she wrote, “Dear Dad,” hoping she'd feel a connection.

“Forget today's lesson,” Mr. Hennessy said. “I think it's important that we talk about this.”

Georgie wanted to shout,
Talk about the Congo. Or draw some stupid map of Sweden. Talk about anything but this.
She looked at her letter. Her hand hovered over the paper, as frozen as her brain. She wrote, “Dear Dad, please be alive.” Then she began drawing a picture of a crescent moon.

“The thing that gets me,” Craig said, “is that a groovy guy like Brian gets sent halfway around the world just to die protecting Vietnamese who are too lazy to fight for themselves.”

“
Lazy
isn't the best word.” Mr. Hennessy rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Untrained, maybe. Poorly equipped. Frightened.”

Georgie began another drawing, of a full moon. She hunched her shoulders over her paper and pulled her cap low. She wanted the bell to ring so she could get out of there.

Craig said, “The Tet Offensive showed us it's a war we can't win.”

“The Tet Offensive!” Mr. Hennessy came to life. He jumped off his desk and wrote on the chalkboard,
Tet Nguyen Dan.

“Who can tell me what this is?”

“It's some kind of Vietnamese holiday, right?” Angel said, then sniffed.

“Not just a holiday. It's Vietnam's most important holiday! A day they would let their guard down, right? Only in 1968, the Vietcong launched a series of major battles on Tet that no one was prepared for. And here we Americans were, in front of our televisions watching this horrible fight.”

Mr. Hennessy began pacing in front of the chalkboard. “The reality is that it wasn't really a military victory for the Communists.
But
—” He stopped and looked at the class. “But it
appeared
that way on television. It made the war seem impossible to win.”

“Who cares if we can win it or not? We're losing guys like Brian every day in Vietnam.” Craig leaned forward. “I'll tell you who I think the real heroes are. Those kids who died at Kent State for protesting the war.”

Georgie pushed her cap back. She heard a pounding sound in her ears.

“I think our guys in Vietnam should just lay down their arms and walk out,” Craig said.

“You make me sick, Craig.” Georgie threw down her pencil. “You think it's that simple? We're already in this war. It's not something we can just undo. It's like saying, ‘Whoops, Mom! Life's not a party, so I've decided I don't want to be born.'”

“It's not the same thing!” he shouted.

“Yeah, it is!” she yelled. “You think we can just walk out? What about the South Vietnamese people? Could you leave and let the Vietcong kill them? And what about when the Communists make their way here?”

“Don't tell me you buy what the establishment says about having to stop them there before they come here.”

“Yeah, bozo, I buy it.” Georgie stood up. She towered over Craig. “My dad volunteered to fight there. He did it so Communists won't ever be on American soil. He did it to save your sorry ass.”