Leo the Lioness (5 page)

“Next year it'll be you,” she said.

“Yeah, and John'll be my date,” I said. That made us both practically hysterical.

Then I said, “How's Dave?” I hoped she would say she didn't know, she wasn't seeing him any more. Instead she said, “He's fine,” and offered me part of her Coke.

When her lunch hour was over, I left and rode down to the beach. It was cloudy so there weren't too many people there except for little kids whose mothers didn't know what else to do with them.

I went up to the lifeguard stand. Dave was sitting there surrounded by a crowd of nubile creeps with too many teeth.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hello there.” He
was
good-looking, I had to admit.

“Save any lives lately?” I asked.

He looked puzzled. Then he laughed.

“Not today,” he said.

I turned and walked away. The nubile creeps went on flashing their teeth. I didn't feel any better. Not any at all.

13.

Tiger had been sitting in our living room for more than twenty minutes, waiting for Nina. After my father had asked him about school and what he was doing this summer (he was going to summer school), my mother quizzed him on where he lived and how many brothers and sisters he had (he was an only child). Then John, who had spent the afternoon practicing, bounced a karate chop off Tiger's ear which had so much force behind it that Tiger's hairdo was disturbed and John knocked his own hat off. I figured I'd take up the reins.

“What sign are you?” I asked him.

His eyes became slightly glazed, and for all any of us knew, he was about to take it into his head to make a run for the door, and then Nina would make her entrance to no date. I wasn't up to the scene that would elicit so I tried again.

“What sign of the zodiac were you born under? When's your birthday?” I spoke slowly and enunciated every syllable so he would have no difficulty understanding me.

“Oh. Yeah. Well, like it's in a couple of weeks. It's the first of August.”

“You've got to be kidding,” I said.

“I wouldn't kid you.” Tiger bared his fangs.

“That makes you a Leo then.” I couldn't believe it. Somebody had goofed somewhere. This kid simply could
not
be a Leo.

“If you say so.” What with Nina's and his dialogue combined, this evening promised to be one of the most sprightly on record.

Tiger was getting restless. He kept shooting his cuff to see what time it was. He had a corsage in a little box and he didn't know what to do with it. I offered to put it in the refrigerator. He said No, he'd hold it.

“I'm a Leo too,” I said.

“Is that right?” He wasn't listening. What is there about me that always makes boys look at their watches, shoot their cuffs, and not listen when I talk to them? What is this strange power I wield?

Tiger looked at his watch again. Nina must not have read about how you're supposed to be ready when your date gets to your house.

“It's the best sign in the zodiac,” I told him.

He didn't answer. Nina entered on a cloud of my mother's Shalimar that made the eyes smart. Tiger knuckled
his
eyes for a couple of seconds and I thought it was the perfume until I realized it was his quaint way of indicating he thought she was gorgeous.

“Wow!” he said.

Nina smiled graciously. “Hi,” she said. “Have you met my father?” which was pretty dumb considering my father had been caged with the kid for quite some time.

Then my mother came in and said “Please drive carefully” and “We'll wait up for you,” both of which undoubtedly had Nina churning inside, but she was trapped with a male audience and all she could do was flash the ivories and press cheeks with my mother and father and also John, who was preparing another karate chop. My mother snatched him away just in time.

“Well,” my father said when the car had pulled away.

“Well what?” my mother asked.

“How many years of this do you think you're up to?”

“This is just the beginning,” she said. “First Nina, then Tibb.”

“Not me. You'll never catch me going out with an ass like him,” I said.

“Tibb!” my mother said. “Don't let me hear talk like that again.”

“Well, he is one,” I said.

“One what?” John asked.

No one answered.

“Tibb is right,” John said. “He
is
an ass.”

“John, it's bathtime.” My mother took him by the hand and started up the stairs.

Just before my father turned on the television, John's voice came from the upstairs hall.

“What's an ass?” he asked.

14.

Nina's and my bedroom is at the front of the house. I couldn't get to sleep. It was hot and I left the door open to let in a breeze. It must be very exciting to go to a dance in a long dress with a boy. Even a boy like Tiger. Let's face it, it must be very exciting, especially for the first time. Maybe it's more exciting the second and third times, though. Then you're more sure of yourself and are not suffering from a nervous stomach or problem perspiration or one of those.

Also you would know what to say, how to make small talk, how to make a boy feel you're interested in
him
. I have read plenty of articles telling girls what strategy to use to make boys like them. I have never read an article telling boys how to make girls like them. It makes me sore. How come they don't have to exert any effort? What's so special about the male sex that the female is always beating her brains out trying to get the fink to ask her out a second time? Suppose she had a lousy boring time the first date and she wouldn't go out with him a second time on a bet? Just suppose.

I find that thinking clearly this way is all very well when you are in bed in your own room. How it would work when you were actually out on a date is another matter entirely, of which I am aware. But it doesn't do any harm to think things through before you are faced with them in actuality.

I got up a couple of times and went to the window. Then I turned on the radio and listened to some music. The announcer said it was exactly twelve midnight. The witching hour. Nina's dance was over now. My mother had told her to come right home. They'd had a big argument over it. Nina had said maybe Tiger would want to go out for something to eat after. My mother had said she thought they were going to be eating practically the entire time they were at Charlotte's. Weren't they having a catered supper dance?

That wasn't the same thing, Nina had wailed. “I mean, out for a hamburger at the drive-in or something like that.”

In her deadliest, most final tone, my mother had said Nina was to be in by twelve-thirty.

We shall see.

I must've dozed because the next thing I knew the radio said it was twelve forty-five. I got out of bed and went to the head of the stairs. She wasn't home yet. The lights were all on and the television was going and while I stood there, my mother came and looked out the front door.

“If she's not here by one, I'm going to call the police and see if there's been an accident,” she said. She had already called Charlotte's and found out they'd left. My father came out and put his hand on her shoulder. “She's all right,” he said. “Nothing could've happened.” I went downstairs and sat in the living room very quietly so they wouldn't tell me to go back to bed.

At two minutes to one, the gravel in the driveway crunched violently. A car door slammed and I heard Nina racing up the steps. I guess old lover boy forgot his cool and wasn't seeing her to the door. The car pulled out of the driveway so fast it must've sprayed gravel all over the grass. My father would have a cow. He was always picking gravel out of the lawn mower.

“Where have you been?” my mother said. “I've been worried.”

Nina got off one of her best wails. She wept and wailed and carried on so that I thought maybe she'd been raped. I have never known anyone who actually was raped but I've read plenty about it in the papers and have always been curious. I would like to question an actual participant as to the procedure.

“What happened? What happened to your dress? Come in and sit down.” Nina tottered into the living room and lay down on the couch. She had aged about fifty years. It must've been some evening.

My father handed over his handkerchief and Nina really let loose. No one could understand a word she said. Finally my mother said, “If you're going to get hysterical, I'm going to call the doctor, I don't care how late it is. Try to calm yourself and tell us what happened.”

“The little fink threw up all over my new dress,” Nina said, loud and clear. “That's what happened. He threw up all over the front of my new dress,” and then she started keening and practically beating her head against the wall.

“Maybe he was coming down with a virus,” my mother said.

“That was no virus,” Nina shouted. “The little fink was out in back of Charlotte's house drinking beer. That's what made him throw up. He was drinking beer like an alcoholic.”

“Alcoholics don't drink beer,” my father said. “How much beer did he have?”

“Did Charlotte's mother know about this?” my mother asked.

“Did he throw up while you were dancing?” I wanted to know. That would be kind of interesting, having your date barf all over you and also all over the dance floor. That would make it an occasion never to be forgotten.

“He didn't throw up until I punched him in the stomach,” Nina said.

I forgot to mention that Nina is very strong. When we were little, she was such a good fighter all the other kids were afraid of her. She could and sometimes did lick any kid on the block; boys included. She had powerful arms and also plenty of muscles. It is only in recent years that she has decided to soft-pedal her muscles. I can understand this.

My father said, “Well, that's as good a reason as any to throw up, I guess. You punching him in the stomach. He has my sympathy.”

“He had all this beer to drink and he was trying to make out with me in the car coming home and he put his arm around me and so I punched him.”

Nina's eyes glittered, partly from tears, partly from rage.

My mother said, “I'm sure the cleaners can make the dress like new.”

My father shook his head slowly.

“What do you know?” he said. “My little girl is able to take care of herself after all.”

“They must've been some lousy jokes,” I said.

“What jokes?” my mother and father asked.

“The jokes you have a stockpile of handy to keep the boy from feeling angry at being rejected,” I explained.

“Oh, those,” my father said weakly. My mother put her handkerchief over her mouth. Then Nina started to bawl again and my mother said she'd fix her a cup of tea.

My father sat there looking sort of dazed.

“Did any girl ever punch you in the stomach, Dad?” I asked him.

“Now that you mention it,” he said, “I don't think any did. Blackened my eye once or twice and smacked me over the head with a pocket-book but punched me in the stomach, no.”

“You weren't really trying, Dad,” I said.

“I guess you're right. If I had it to do all over again, though, I can tell you this, I'd do better.”

My mother called from upstairs.

“It's late. Come on up to bed, you two.”

15.

John has this way of waking me up which is really unique. He stands beside my bed and puts one finger, that's all, just one finger, lightly, on my big toe or my arm and waits quietly until I open my eyes.

When I woke up the morning after the dance, John's finger was on my right ear.

I looked at Nina's bed. She was still asleep. John does not wake Nina this way. He does not wake Nina at all. He knows better.

He smiled at me. “Hello,” he said.

I would have liked to go back to sleep for a while but I told him I would get dressed and be right down.

Only the top of Nina's head stuck out from under the blanket. Her hair looked sort of like a dandelion gone to seed. She had put some more streaking stuff on it and the sun had bleached it more and dried it out. She would have to put some mayonnaise on it to condition it. It is very good for the hair, even if sort of a disgusting idea.

John and I went through the refrigerator and got out some leftovers because Count was at our back door. Count lives next door. He is a Labrador retriever who is quite old but has a lot of dignity. He swims very well, even at his age. He is always hungry. I hope my mother didn't have any plans for those leftovers, as Count plainly enjoyed them. Then John put a lanyard around Count's neck and his hat on Count's head and we just sat there looking at the trees and not doing anything much. John and I are very peaceful together.

Unless he is trying out his karate chops, that is.

I heard someone moving around the kitchen. It was Nina, looking sorrowful and ancient. I felt sorry for her. I realized it had been a very long time since I had felt sorry for her. Since I had felt sorry for anyone but myself, if you want to know. It was sort of a nice feeling, to feel sorry for someone else.

She asked me if I wanted to split a bacon sandwich with her. I said Sure. My gosh, it had been ages since she had offered to split anything with me.

“The thing that gets me,” she said suddenly, “was that I thought he was so nice. I didn't think I could be that wrong about a human being.” Nina prides herself on being a very good judge of character. “It's a blow to my pride,” she said.

I was going to say I thought he was an ass right from the beginning but the bacon started to burn and fat splattered all over the wall and by the time we got that cleaned up, I had decided not to say it, which was probably a wise decision.

“He said he was a Leo,” I said. “I didn't believe him. Maybe he was left on somebody's doorstep and they just took a guess as to when he was born. I have never known a Leo who wasn't first-class.”