Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great (4 page)

   
In a little while Mouse stood up and started to yo-yo again, and I could see why she is Junior Champion of Tarrytown. While she was showing me her tricks I noticed that her legs were a mess of scabs. I hoped they weren't catching.

   
She must have seen me looking because she said, "They're leftover mosquito bites. I scratch them until they bleed and then I get scabs. Aren't they ugly?"

   
I didn't tell her the truth. I said, "They're not so bad."

   
When Mouse was done with her yo-yo tricks she said, "Let's take Jennifer for a walk."

   
"Jennifer, the dog, you mean?"

   
"Yes. The Egrans always let me walk her. I lOve dogs."

   
I never make friends with dog-lovers. "Do you have one at your house?" I asked, thinking I might as well find out the truth right away. There was no point in getting to like her if it was all for nothing.

   
"No," Mouse said. "Betsy is allergic to them. She gets hives from dogs."

   
What a great idea. Why didn't I ever think of saying that? "Me too," I told Mouse "I get awful hives from them. You wouldn't believe how big my hives are. They'd make your scabs look practically invisible, they're so huge!"

   
"Oh, rats!" Mouse said. "I was hoping you and me could take care of Jennifer all summer."

   
"I'm really sorry," I said.

   
"Oh, that's okay. I guess I'd rather have a girl friend than a dog."

   
I was very happy to hear that.

   
We walked down the road to her house then. Mouse yo-yoed all the way. She lives at the bottom of the hill, right around the corner from the swimming pool. Her little sister was out front dragging a candy box by a string.

   
"That's Betsy," Mouse said. "She's four."

   
"Why does she have a string around that box?"

   
"She's walking her dog."

   
"That box is her dog?" I asked.

   
"Yes. I told you how she gets hives from real ones. So that box is her pretend dog. She calls it Ootch."

   
Betsy dragged Ootch over to us. "Who are you?" she asked me.

   
"I'm Sunny Tubman," I told her, trying out my new name.

   
"Oh. You don't look like a boy," Betsy said.

   
"She's not a boy!" Mouse told her.

   
"Then how come her name is Sonny?"

   
"It's not that kind of Sonny," Mouse explained. "It's Sunny, like the sun in the sky."

   
"Ohhh," Betsy said. "Sunny like a sunny day?"

   
"That's it," Mouse said.

   
"My real name is Sheila," I said to Betsy. "Maybe you should call me that." I didn't think about Sunny sounding like Sonny. Maybe it wasn't such a good name after all.

 
  
Betsy said, "This is my dog, Ootch. Want to pet him?"

   
"Oh sure." I reached over and tapped the candy box. "Nice doggie," I said. "Nice Ootch."

   
Betsy picked up her box and held it to her ear. Then she put it back down and said, "Ootch says he likes you, Sunny Sheila. He can always tell a person who really and truly loves dogs."

   
I didn't say anything. I just smiled;

   
Mrs. Ellis invited me to stay for lunch. I called home and Mom said I could. Me and Mouse ate peanut butter sandwiches with the crust cut off and Betsy had four slices of plain salami-no bread or anything. She kept Ootch on the table next to her and every few minutes she made believe she was feeding some of her salami to that box.

   
"Ootch loves salami," she told me. "It's his favorite lunch."

   
That afternoon our mothers took us to the Cultural Arts Center to register for day camp. It is really a private school, but it doesn't look anything like one. It looks like an old house surrounded by lots and lots of big trees. I have never seen a school like that. Mouse told me that she doesn't go there. She goes to regular public school. But Bobby Egran has been going there for years. That's because Bobby refused to do any of his work in public school. All he wanted to do was build models. And since the teachers wouldn't let him he used to get mad and make a lot of noise. So he was spending most of his time sitting on the bench outside the principal's office. At this school he is allowed to build all kinds of things. Mouse says her mother told her Bobby is some kind of genius but she doesn't believe it.

   
Mouse and I explored our day camp together. This is her first year too because she was just ten, which means me and Mouse will be two of the youngest kids there. This makes Libby feel like a double big shot! I told Mouse that Libby thinks she is a great ballerina but when she dances she really looks like an elephant. Well, not exactly an elephant, but only because she is too skinny to be one.

   
There are a lot of interesting activities at this day camp. But the one that looks best to me is pottery. You get to use a lot of mushy clay and you try to shape it into some kind of bowl on a pottery wheel. Me and Mouse signed up for that, first thing. The pottery counselor's name is Denise. She was barefoot. I like to go barefoot too, but I'm afraid I might step on a bee and get stung. That happened to Peter Hatcher's little brother once. I think getting stung on the bottom of your foot would be worse than getting stung someplace ordinary, like your arm. I wonder if Denise has ever stepped on a bee.

   
When we got home Mouse asked me to go swimming with her. She said, "What's your best stroke? Mine's the crawl."

   
"I'm the same at every stroke," I said.

   
"Then maybe you'll join the swimming team. We have races every Sunday."

   
She didn't understand what I meant, I guess. So I said, "No, I really don't like swimming teams. They take all the fun out of it."

   
"Well, grab your suit and let's go over anyway. It's steaming out."

   
"I can't go in today," I said. I wasn't about to tell her I can't swim.

   
"Why can't you go in?" she asked.

   
"I'm just getting over a cold."

   
"Oh, rats! You don't sound sick. Ask your mother."

   
"I can't," I said. "I promised I wouldn't go in today."

   
"Can't you even dunk your feet?" Mouse asked.

   
That didn't sound bad. And it was hot out. "Okay," I said. "I guess dunking my feet can't hurt me. I'll go in and get my suit."

   
But just then my mother came out and said, "Sheila, we have to go over to the pooi now. I want to sign you up for some lessons. It's time you learned how to swim!"

   
Mouse opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

   
"HOW could you do that to me?" I asked my mother when we were alone.

   
"I'm sorry," Mom said. "I didn't know she thought you could swim."

   
"You just spoiled my whole summer!"

   
"Oh really, Sheila! Let's not make a big thing out of it."

   
"Just when she wanted to be my friend-my first real-live girl friend. You had to go and ruin everything! Well, I'm
never
going to learn how to swim. So there!"

   
"You have to, like it or not!" Mom said. "Otherwise it isn't safe to go near the water."

 
  
"I'll never go near the water. Then you won't have to worry."

   
"Daddy and I have discussed it and we both agree that you must learn to swim. Even if it takes all summer. And that's that!"

   
"You can't make me!" I cried.

   
"Sheila, you are being unreasonable. Daddy and I try very hard to be understanding. We don't force you to go near Jennifer. We know how you feel about spiders, and when you hear noises in the middle of the night we try to find out what's causing them.
But we are going to insist that you learn how to swim!
"

   
"I'll sink," I said. "They'll find me on the bottom of the pooi and that will be the end of me."

   
"I don't think that will happen," Mom said. "Now get into the car."

   
Mom tooted the horn and Libby came running out of the house. She was wearing her bikini. She looked like a skeleton.

   
"Can we take Jennifer with us?" Libby asked.

   
"No," I said.

   
"I'm not asking
you
. Can we, Mom? I'll bet she's dying for a little ride in the car."

   
"You promised!" I reminded my mother.

   
"Better leave her home, Libby," Mom said.

   
"Some people spoil all the fun!" Libby snapped.

   
"There are people who get hives from dogs," I told Libby. "Did you ever think of that?"

   
"But
you
don't!"

   
"I think I do."

   
"You're a liar," Libby yelled. "Isn't she a liar, Mom?"

   
"What do you mean you think you get hives from dogs?" Mom asked me.

   
"I do. I get them inside where you can't see them.But I know they're there. I'm positive I'm allergic to dogs."

   
"Oh, Sheila!" Mom said.

   
Jennifer stood up and barked then. I'm sure she was laughing at me. I hate that dumb old dog!

   
Libby sulked all the way to the pool because Mom told her Jennifer had to stay at home. She said this had nothing to do with me. It was just that there was probably a rule about bringing animals to the pool. I don't think Libby believed Mom, but she seemed to forget about it when we got there.

   
The swimming pool is round at the deep end and curved at the other. My mother says it is kidney-shaped. I wonder if my kidneys are shaped like that. When I get home I will look it up in my encyclopedia and find out. There are two diving boards. One is up high and the other is medium.

   
Each family has a tiny dressing room with their name on the door. Ours says Egran. I asked, "Couldn't we put up a little sign that says Tubman . . . just for the summer?" I felt silly using the Egrans' dressing room. I kept thinking about those three boys. So my mother let me Scotch tape
TUBMAN
over
EGRAN
so at least people will know who we are.