Leo the Lioness (6 page)

“He looked so funny, though, when I socked him,” Nina said. She was going to be telling this story a lot and she wanted to get it in shape. “I wish I'd had a camera. He looked so surprised!”

“It's probably the first time that ever happened to him,” I said.

“And it may not be the last,” Nina said darkly.

The telephone rang and I answered it. It was Jen.

“How was it?” she asked.

“How was what?”

“The dance, creepo. What'd you think?”

“Why don't you come over for a bacon sandwich? The chef is whipping one up.”

Jen was there practically before I hung up. She only lives in the next block and she can really move when she wants to. She used to run the hundred-yard dash faster than any other kid in the school. She has very long legs.

So she sat down in the kitchen and Nina told her about the dance and what everyone wore and about the fantastic chignon Charlotte's mother had on and about Charlotte's dress that had been made for her and a bunch of other garbage.

I wondered how long it would take her to get to Tiger.

Finally Jen said, “What about Tiger? How did you two hit it off?”

Nina and I looked at each other and we started to laugh. We laughed so hard we were rolling on the floor. Jen sat there and looked annoyed.

“What's the joke?” she asked coldly. It is never fun to be left out of a joke. I know.

After a while we stopped laughing and Nina told Jen what had happened. She laughed too, but then she said, “I don't think you needed to resort to violence,” so Nina got mad and said he had it coming to him and then Jen left in a huff.

“Do you want my striped bell-bottoms?” Nina asked me. “I washed them and they shrank and they're too tight for me but I think they might fit you.”

I said Sure, although I didn't really like them that much. But my gosh, I wouldn't have destroyed the atmosphere in our kitchen at that moment for anything in the world.

16.

The truce was temporary.

The next day we were at each other's throats and Nina and Niffy were bosom buddies again. It had been fun while it lasted.

“I think I'll go down and see Carla,” I said to my mother. “I haven't seen her all week. I love Carla, Mom. I really do. I wish she was my sister. She is a truly good person and you don't find too many of them lying around these days.”

“Present company excepted, of course,” my mother said.

I patted her on the head. “I like mothers who wear their own hair,” I told her.

“That's too bad,” she said, “because I'm seriously thinking of buying a wig. A very expensive wig.”

“What color?”

“Red, I think. I've always wanted to be a redhead.”

“Dad would have a conniption fit,” I said. I had just been reading my horoscope for that day. It said: “Be sure to help good friends who are in trouble.”

“Mom, your horoscope today is very apt,” I said. “It says: ‘Don't try to put new ideas into operation right now since they need more study before they can prove successful.'”

My mother said, “Do you suppose that means my wig?”

“I wouldn't be surprised,” I said. “You better mull it over.”

“Do you want anything downtown?” I asked her.

“No,” she said, “but you could take a couple of books back to the library for me, if you will.”

“Sure,” I said. I liked the library. Especially in the summer when it wasn't filled with a whole mess of kids frantically doing term papers. I liked it best when there were just a lot of old ladies and men reading and also a lot of little kids who were so small they looked as if they couldn't possibly read. Once in a while you would even see a little kid sitting at one of the small tables reading away like mad, only if you looked closely you could see the kid was holding the book upside down. That always cracked me up.

“I want to come,” John said.

Then I couldn't ride my bike. I'd have to walk.

“What'll you do downtown? It'll be pretty boring.”

“I want to come anyway,” he said.

Taurus the Bull.

Then Charlie D'Agostino came to the door. Charlie is a friend of John's whose mother is always trying to get rid of him. I can't blame her too much. Charlie is a devil. People in the neighborhood suspect that Charlie's mother drops him off outside houses and says, “Go visit so-and-so,” and then drives off. Maybe.

“I'm here,” Charlie announced.

“So I see,” my mother said.

John and Charlie looked at each other and, without exchanging a word, they started their karate chops. My mother took each one by the arm and gently moved them out to the yard where they could chop away and not break up the furniture. They didn't even seem to notice the change.

“I hope they don't draw blood,” she said. She had got very philosophical lately.

I got on my bike and was halfway downtown before I remembered I'd forgotten the library books. I decided I would take them next time. I felt like being alone all of a sudden.

17.

Fat chance.

The first person I saw when I stopped at the red light on Main Street was Jen. Wouldn't you know.

“Hey,” she said, “guess who's getting married?”

“You,” I said. “To Ernest Havemeyer.”

Ernest Havemeyer is a very unfortunate boy we have gone through school with. He has everything wrong with him that he possibly could: bad breath, problem perspiration, dandruff; you name it, Ernest has it. I guess he doesn't watch the commercials on television much. Or if he does, he figures they're directed at the other guys. Even the hair tonic he uses is wrong. It smells like turpentine. Maybe it is.

“Ha ha,” she said. “You're a riot. But really. Guess.”

“Miss Nelson.” Miss Nelson was our last year's English teacher. We had decided, Jen and I, that she was frigid.

“Carla McAllister, smarty. That's who,” Jen said.

I tried to pretend that didn't shake me up.

“So what else is new?” I asked.

I had seen Carla last week. Last week she wasn't getting married. She would have told me. I know she would have.

“You didn't know Dave and she were getting married and you know you didn't,” Jen said. “They weren't even engaged.”

“Well, when you've gone steady as long as Carla and Dave have, it doesn't exactly come as any big surprise,” I said.

“My mother ran into Mrs. McAllister this morning and she told her they decided on the spur of the moment. You know what that means.”

I felt like smacking her.

“It doesn't mean anything except that they probably want to get married before they go back to college.”

I remembered my horoscope for that day: “Be sure to help good friends who are in trouble.”

“She won't be going back to college. Not in her condition,” Jen said, smirking.

I would have hit her if we hadn't been standing on such a public corner.

“What's that mean?” I asked.

“Just exactly what you think it means. In the old days they used to call it a ‘shotgun wedding.'” Jen smiled at me.

“You're a nasty, foul-mouthed, rotten little stink,” I said. “To say things like that. Just because they decided to get married all of a sudden doesn't mean anything. You've been seeing too many dirty movies.”

“O.K., wise guy.” Jen's face was red. She didn't like being called “foul-mouthed.” “You know all the answers. But it's true. You'll see. What's the big deal? Creep sakes, you act like Carla was some kind of saint or something. So she's pregnant and had to get married. So what?”

I turned and rode away from her. My heart felt as if it was going to pop right out of my chest and onto the pavement. I'd show her. I'd go right down to Moody's and talk to Carla and get it all straightened out.

Carla wasn't at Moody's.

“She's left us,” the fat-faced, ugly female behind the counter said. “I understand she's getting married.” The sunlight caught her eyeglasses and I could've sworn she was winking at me.

So then I rode my bike over to Carla's. I had started this and I was going to finish it.

I rang the bell and Carla answered. She looked pale, or maybe it was the dim light of the hall.

“Tibb,” she said. “Come in.”

“Hi, Carla. How's by you?”

Now that I was here, I didn't know what to say. I just stood there.

“Come on in,” she said again.

“I can't,” I said. “I have a lot of errands to do for my mother.”

“I was going to call you,” she said, “because I wanted you to know that Dave and I are getting married two weeks from Saturday. We want you and your family to come. It's going to be a small wedding. You'll get an invitation. Make sure John comes too. I specially want John to come.”

“I don't know,” I said. “I might be busy. I'll have to have my mother let you know.”

“All right,” she said, “but I hope you'll be there.”

I looked at her through the screen door.

“What about college?” I asked. “Are you going to finish college?” I wanted to ask her, flat out. I wanted to say, “Carla, you don't
have
to get married, do you?” But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

“Eventually,” she said, and then I knew that what Jen had said was true. “We don't know where we'll be living or anything. We'll have to see.”

I backed down the steps. I could hardly see, the sun was so bright.

“See you,” I said. Carla did not smile.

I got on my bicycle and rode off. Then I came back. She was still standing there.

“Congratulations,” I said.

“Thank you, Tibb,” she said.

I was all the way home before I remembered you're supposed to congratulate the groom, not the bride.

I went to look at myself in the mirror. I am even uglier than usual because I have so many freckles. I always get freckles in the summer. Even on my knees. Nina gets a wonderful tan. She gets a little browner every day. She puts a gallon or two of oil on and then she starts turning like a chicken on a spit, my father says, and she just gets tanner and tanner.

I looked at myself a long time. I could not even cry.

18.

“I'm not going,” I said. “That's all there is to it.” We had got the invitation to Carla's wedding in the morning mail.

My mother looked at me. “Why not?” she asked.

“You know why not. I can't stand going to weddings where the bride is pregnant.”

“That's a nasty thing to say,” my mother said.

“It's true, isn't it? I don't notice anyone denying it. Of all people, Carla, of all people. I can't stand it. I absolutely can't stand it.”

“Look,” my mother said and she put her arm around me. “I know how you feel. I know what Carla has always meant to you. But you've got to stop setting yourself up as a judge of others, Tibb, you really do. Just think of how she feels, and her parents. Think of them, not of yourself. And it isn't as if she and Dave weren't in love. They are, and they would have got married anyway. It's unfortunate that it had to happen this way.”

“That's a masterpiece of understatement,” I said. “I thought she was honest and good. And now she has to go and do this to me. She has betrayed me.”

“No,” my mother said. “She has betrayed herself. If anyone. She has betrayed herself and her family. They are the ones, not you. And it's not the end of the world, Tibb. I know it seems as if it is, but it's not. If Carla and Dave make a good life for themselves and their children and are useful, happy human beings, then they have accomplished a good deal. You must look at it that way.”

“That's a lot of baloney,” I said.

My mother took her arm away.

“How would you feel if it was me or Nina. What then?” I asked her.

“My heart would be broken,” my mother said. “But I hope I would try to understand. I'm not sure that I would be able to, but I would try.”

I knew she meant what she said. She would try to understand if it happened to one of us. For some reason, that made me feel worse than before.

If such a thing was possible.

19.

“I have never been to a wedding,” Jen said. “I expect you'll have a terrific time. Everyone says that weddings are the most fun.”

I had decided to go. I had thought about it after I went to bed last night and decided my mother was right. I should not judge other people. Carla would feel bad if I didn't go. I knew she would. Besides, my morning horoscope said: “You can't escape the responsibilities you have. Attend to them immediately or you may lose out.”

I figured that in a way, Carla was my responsibility.

“What's so fun about weddings?” I asked Jen.

“Well, for one thing, there's pots of champagne and no one thinks anything of it if you get squiffy.”

“Don't be asinine,” I said. “That's the dumbest thing I ever heard of. Who wants to get squiffy anyhow?”

“Niffy does.” Nina liked that. “Squiffy Niffy.”

“Then, for another,” Jen said, as if she hadn't heard, “you meet all kinds of people.” She didn't like jokes made about her name. “And when I say ‘people' you know what I mean, I trust?” She put on her inscrutable look, which only made her look as if she was going to burp. Jen is a very good burper. She can burp out something that sounds like “The Star-Spangled Banner” if you stretch your imagination a little.

“When you say ‘people' in that soppy way; you mean boys.”

“Well, after all, Dave goes to college and he's having some friends as ushers and all that. Dave is so good-looking,” Nina cooed.

“If you like the type,” I said coldly. “Dave's friends wouldn't give you the time of day. They're all as old as he is.”