Me and Fat Glenda (10 page)

“Sure,” I said. “That stays.”

I turned around and went and put her pretty dark head against my chest. She felt surprisingly limp against me. It just broke my heart that Roddy Fenton had called her a witch, after he saw her out in the yard with her dye pots. If she was a witch, she was probably the most beautiful witch in the whole world.

8

A few weeks before Halloween something wonderful happened. We got a letter from Toby. It said: “The Gonzagas are moving back to Mexico around the first of the year. They've asked me to come with them but I think I should finish high school in the U.S. So how about if I come East and pick up the school year there right away?”

How about that! Was I happy. Of course, Toby felt rotten about leaving Felipe because they were great friends and had spent a terrific summer on the archaeological dig in Mexico that their school had sponsored. Toby had a lot of questions about Havenhurst, but Glenda had even more questions about Toby.

“Does he have a girlfriend back in California? He's probably going to be the most popular boy in Havenhurst High. The girls there are all boy-crazy, you know. I wish I was in high school already, don't you? Is his hair much longer now than when you left California? Do you think he'll cut it before starting school here?”

“How do I know, Glen? When you meet him you
can ask him. It's only a few more days now and he'll be here.”

“Oh gosh, am I really going to meet him!” And Glenda blushed a watermelon-pink.

On the day when Toby was scheduled to arrive, Drew borrowed a station wagon from one of the other instructors at the college. Even Inez agreed that driving the garbage truck all the way to Kennedy Airport and then grinding around the airport in it to pick up Toby at the terminal building was going to be a downright nuisance.

“I suppose we'll actually have to get rid of it one of these days,” Mom sighed, as we set off for the airport.

The station wagon Drew had borrowed was pretty old and battered, but it felt like a magic carpet after the garbage truck. It didn't go very fast, though. And after we got to the airport we had to drive around on so many weaving and winding roads it felt as if we were going in complete circles. Then there was the long wait in the terminal building where Toby's flight was due.

But, at last came the announcement of the flight arrival and about ten breathless minutes later, there was Toby.

It wasn't really that long since I'd seen him. It was only that so much had happened since we left California in July. And now it was October—and Toby looked different
somehow. Much older, lots taller, and with a dark, reddish-brown sunburn.

His hair was longer, as Glenda had somehow suspected it would be, and fuller too. With his craggy features and dark, dark eyes, Toby looked even more like an American Indian than he really was (which wasn't much, considering how mixed- blooded even Inez' Indian relatives were).

Toby was excited and happy, moving around in tight little circles, grinning a lot, and with that mischievous glint in his eyes.

On the drive back to Havenhurst, Toby and I got sort of quiet It was as if we had so much to say to one another that we couldn't think of
anything
to say. I couldn't get used to this new, handsomer, more grown-up Toby. I felt shy with him somehow.

“Got a lot of new girlfriends?” Toby wanted to know.

“No, not a lot. Just one, really. She
is
a lot though.” I giggled. I didn't mean to make fun of Glenda. I never did, not even in my mind. But suddenly I was seeing her through Toby's eyes. I knew Toby didn't like fat girls and I knew Glenda was going to be crazy about Toby. So I wished there was some way I could prepare him, so he'd like her just a little bit.

“What do you mean, she's a lot? Oh-oh, I think I know. Never mind.”

“No really, Toby, she's awfully nice even though she
is a little . . . well, overweight. Her name's Glenda. And another thing, I hope you don't mind but she really is a pretty good friend to me, so I told her about alphabet-burgers.”

“So?”

“Well, we've been eating them all along. Mostly we cook them over at her house. I know it was supposed to be a private thing between us—you and me. But I didn't know if you were ever coming East.”

Toby leaned over and put an arm around my neck in a mock choke. That was more like old times.

“No, I don't mind, silly. Don't be so serious. It's okay, really. In fact, to tell you the truth, I forgot all about alphabet-burgers.”

“Oh, you
would
!” I said, wriggling out from Toby's stranglehold. “Listen, it's a good thing you're here. You can help us figure out something for the letter Q.”

“Q?”

“Yes. We're up to Q-burgers. The last time I saw you we were having K-burgers. Do you remember that?”

“Oh sure,” Toby said. “Kraut-burgers. Who could forget them? Gee, how'd you get all the way to Q? Must have been an awful struggle.”

“Well it was.”

Just then Drew turned off the parkway and a few minutes later we were stopping in front of 13 Dangerfield Road.

“Hey, look at the yard full of junk construction,” Toby exclaimed. “How about that.”

“Watch your language, please,” Inez said, clearing her throat “Drew now calls it his ‘sculpture garden.' ”

Mom went on into the house, and Drew and Toby were so busy hauling Toby's gear out of the station wagon and commenting on the house that they didn't see Glenda hiding behind the big tree to the side of the porch steps. But I did.

As soon as Toby had looked over the inside of the house and decided to bunk up in the round, pointy-shaped turret room (I just knew he'd choose that one), I ran down and met Glenda in the yard.

“Oh my goodness,” Glenda squealed, “he's gorgeous. I think he's the most gorgeous boy I ever saw. I just think he's stunning. You didn't tell me his hair was that long. Will he cut it or not? Oh I don't care what he does. When will I get to meet him? Could it be real soon? I mean, like right . . .”

“Glenda,” I said, “stop talking. Stop it because I'm going crazy.”

And I
was
going crazy because now that I'd taken a good look at Glenda I couldn't believe my eyes. I just stared at her and tried to figure out what she'd done to herself. Because this wasn't Glenda at all. It was somebody about twenty years old with gorgeous cherry-colored lips and creamy, slightly blushing cheeks, no freckles at all. And with deep mysterious eyes that had long black fringes on them.

Oh, of course, underneath it all, she was still Fat Glenda. She was wearing her bulging navy blue jumper that she had worn the first day of school, except it was shorter than I remembered it. A lot shorter. And high-heeled shoes the color of vanilla ice cream that I knew belonged to Mrs. Waite because I'd seen them on her myself.

Glenda smiled. “Well, how do I look? Say something.”

“Glenda,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, “you look wonderful and you look terrible. I mean . . . I don't know
what
to say. See, you're really very pretty, but it's sort of too much. And it isn't you.”

Glenda lowered her eyes. “You mean you don't want to introduce me to Toby. I look too stupid.”

“No you don't. You look very glamorous really. But . . . oh, how can I explain it? See Glen, Toby just got here and he's all excited. And he's changed a lot, Glenda. I think he's become very sophisticated. And if he saw you the way you look now he might think it was just . . . well, kid stuff. You know, a silly kid trying to
look
grown up.”

Glenda just stared at me for a little while and then a great big muddy tear began to roll down one of her creamy-pink, no-freckles cheeks.

“Some friend,” she said chokingly.

“Glenda, I am,” I pleaded. “It's just that I think would be better for you to meet Toby after he's more settled and calmed down. And not looking this way. As yourself.”

She grabbed my arm. “But I don't
like
myself. I hate myself. He'll hate me too when he sees me as myself.”

I was embarrassed for Glenda and I didn't know what to do. But then a thought came to me. Maybe Toby wouldn't notice how much make-up Glenda had on because he'd never seen her before. He didn't know the Glenda I knew, with her freckles and her light-brown golden-tipped eyelashes and her pale lips, and her whole face sort of hanging out and showing itself. He'd just think
this
was Glenda and maybe he'd think she was pretty. Because really she was.

“Know what,” I said, after thinking about it a little more, “you're probably right. Why don't you come on in the house now and I'll introduce you.”

“You will? Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh good,” she said, brightening at once and dabbing at her eyes with one of her little lavender tissues. “Oh Sara, I'm so excited. Only please don't walk too fast. These shoes pinch something terrible.” I could hear her huffing and puffing behind me as we crossed the yard.

“I was planning on wearing my mother's wig, too,” Glenda confided, as she panted up the front steps just behind me. “The blonde one that falls in a flip. But wouldn't you just know, of all times, she picked this week to send it out to the wig shop to be curled.”

A wig was all Glenda needed.

9

For the next few days Glenda did nothing but ask me questions about what sort of an impression she had made on Toby.

I had a hard time telling her. It wasn't that she had made a bad impression. In some ways, I suppose it was even worse than that. It was simply that she had made no impression at all.

After all the trouble she'd gone to, and all her excitement about meeting Toby, I didn't know how to tell her that about fifteen minutes after she left our house I mentioned her to Toby and he said, “Who?”

Of course Toby had been awfully busy at the time, stowing his things away in the turret room and calling down to Inez on the second floor, answering and asking questions about everything, like how were Inez' old friends in California and could he have a piece of galvanized pipe to use as a clothes rack (there was no closet in the turret room).

About a week after Toby's arrival we were having a
pow-wow on the living-room floor—Inez, Drew, Toby, and me. That's what I always called them—pow-wows. Because we all sat around cross-legged on cushions, although Inez usually stretched out on her belly. I suppose other families have most of their talks and family conferences around the dining-room table. But since we didn't have a dining room or a table . . . well, you know the rest.

Toby had started school at Havenhurst High and he was already writing a column for the school newspaper. Also he was organizing something he called a “community-awareness” committee. It was supposed to keep the student body informed on neighborhood relations, civil rights violations, and things like that. Toby was telling us all about it.

“Perhaps, after your committee gets going,” Drew suggested, “you might find out who it was who considered us such a menace in the neighborhood. It's not really important but I've often wondered who started that petition.”

Toby had heard all about the petition and about Mr. Creasey's visit of warning. He grinned and shrugged. “Well, maybe. It's a little out of our line.”

We were still talking about Toby's ideas for the “awareness” committee when the doorbell rang. I went to answer it. To my surprise it was Glenda. She didn't usually come around in the evening and besides she was
hard to recognize at first because she was wearing a long, dark rain cape with a pointy hood on her head that came down nearly over her eyes. And it wasn't even raining out.

“Gee I'm glad you answered, Sara,” she whispered. “Can you come here a minute?”

I closed the front door behind me and went out on the porch even though it was cold out there.

“What is it, Glenda? Why can't you come inside?”

She didn't say a word. Then with a broad sweep of her arms she flung open the cape and threw her head back so the hood fell off.

“Look! It's my Halloween costume. I'm rehearsing.”

In the dim porch light I could see enough to make me gasp. This get-up was
really
something. Glenda had on all the make-up she'd used when she met Toby—and then some. Besides, she was wearing the long blonde wig that curled in a flip.

She also had on a long white robe made out of what looked like a couple of bedsheets that were tied around the middle with a glittery rhinestone belt. She lifted the hem of her skirt. High-heeled silver shoes with rhinestone buckles. She lowered her eyelids. Glitter dust that sparkled like diamond chips on their bulging surfaces.

Glenda continued to stand there. “Well?”

“Does your mother know you're wearing that wig?”

“No,” Glenda said in a tense whisper. “And she's not
supposed to find out. It only came back today from the wig shop. I told you, I'm just rehearsing this costume.”