The Red Umbrella (17 page)

Mrs. Baxter had returned and now beamed at the mention of her name.

Mamá continued talking. “I’m glad you’re learning so much, Lucía. You’re remembering to use your manners, right?”

“Of course, Mamá. Have you heard from Ivette? I need to talk to her … to apologize.”

“I know. I think her brigade gets back in August or September. The public schools will start again by then.”

“Oh. Well, I sent her a letter, but I’ll try again.”

“Mi hija
, remember that all the mail goes through censors, so she might not even get it. Plus, she may not be the same girl who left a few months ago.
Las cosas cambian.”

“But not everything changes. Anyway, I’m not the same girl, either, but we can still be friends … I think.”

“What do you mean you’re not the same?” Mamá’s voice had a worried tone.

“I’ve just grown up a little. Frankie and I living here, by ourselves, it’s different. Not in a bad way, though.”

“Lucía, I’ve seen those Elvis movies where the American teenagers go crazy.
A mi no me gusta eso
. You know I don’t approve of that type of thing.”

I twisted and untwisted the phone cord. How could Mamá think that movies and TV showed what things were really like?

“I know, Mamá, but things aren’t like that here.”

“Seriously, I don’t want you dating boys, or thinking that just because we’re not there, that means …”

I shook my head as Mamá kept talking. She was still trying to tell me how to act, even though she was so far away. Yet the last thing I wanted to do with the few seconds we had was argue.

Frankie pulled on my arm. “Hurry up. It’s my turn.”

I nodded and raised a finger to let him know it would be just one more moment.

“Mamá, I have to go. Don’t worry, we haven’t even
made any friends. We live on a farm, miles away from the city.” I twirled my long ponytail in my hand.

“Está bien
, but I want you to be happy, too, and make some nice friends. I love you, Lucía, I just worry. Don’t wear makeup, either.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh,
sí
, Mamá.”

“And don’t wear your skirts too short.”

“Sí
, Mamá.”

“And no high heels.”

“Sí, Mamá. I love you.”

I handed the phone to Frankie before she could say anything else.

Mrs. Baxter stood by, looking at her watch. “Fifty seconds,” she said.

Frankie started talking about a mile a minute. He wanted to know if they’d received his drawing of the fireworks he’d seen on the Fourth of July. Then he went on to describe every one of them. What a waste of a phone call!

Then again, I couldn’t believe Mamá had spent her time with me telling me how to behave. It was like she didn’t trust me. She’d sent us to a different country by ourselves, but she was worried about my wearing makeup? Here I was, taking care of Frankie and myself … and I was doing a pretty good job. I certainly was old enough to make my own decisions.

“Mrs. Baxter?” I said.

“Frankie, you need to hang up now.” Mrs. Baxter touched Frankie’s shoulder.

He nodded and said his good-byes.

“Yes, Lucía?” She turned to face me as Frankie rubbed his eyes and hung up the phone.

“I want you to cut my hair … short. Really short.”

The sun had been up for about an hour, and we’d already gathered the eggs, fed the chickens, had breakfast, and been waiting at the bus stop for over ten minutes. Mrs. Baxter had warned us to leave the house extra early so that we wouldn’t miss the bus on the first day of school.

I glanced over at Frankie. He was wearing a pair of dark blue pants that Mrs. Baxter had hemmed for him, with a crisp white shirt and light tan jacket. The only thing slightly off was his penny loafers, which were two sizes too big, but he’d stuffed cotton in the tips so that they wouldn’t slip off. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. For him, school was going to be a place to find a few other boys who liked to play catch.

I, on the other hand, wasn’t too sure about going to
school. What if people made fun of the way I talked? If I looked strange to them? What if no one spoke to me and I was ignored all day?

Two large headlights shined in the distance.

“You’ll be back on the bus after school, right?” Frankie asked.

“Of course.”

“And everyone at my school will be my age, right?”

“Yes, more or less. Don’t be nervous. Everything is going to be fine. We’ll both be fine.” I smoothed my hair. It had grown about an inch since I cut it, but it was still just a bit under my chin. I’d flipped the ends and chosen a wide orange headband that matched the checkered dress Mrs. Baxter had fixed for me.

The bus whistled to a stop right in front of us.

This was it. I was about to walk into American teenage life.

Frankie boarded the bus first and said good morning to the driver. I was proud of how quickly he’d learned English during the last few months, although Mrs. Baxter really hadn’t given us any option.

When I reached the top of the steps, I noticed that at least one person was sitting in each seat. Frankie and I wouldn’t be able to sit together as I’d hoped. I pushed Frankie a little farther down the aisle, past a few teenage boys who had taken over the first two rows. The bus was strangely quiet, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on us.

The bus driver closed the door, and Frankie made a beeline for the back, where a boy his age was tossing a baseball. I watched as Frankie told the boy something and then sat down. The two of them started talking. It seemed Frankie had already made a friend.

I took a few steps toward a pretty dark-haired girl who sat toward the middle of the bus on one of the large bench seats. She was whispering something to the redhead in front of her, and both wore dresses somewhat similar to mine. The dark-haired girl even had a headband just like the one I was wearing.

I took a deep breath. At least, I’d made the right choice in selecting which clothes to wear. I smiled at the girl.

She quickly scooted to the aisle side of the seat to let me know that I wasn’t going to be sitting next to her.

My heartbeat quickened. Would everyone on the bus act the same way?

I felt a tap on the back of my right arm.

A girl with hair so blond that it looked almost white motioned for me to join her.

I followed her to a seat near the front and quickly sat down, in case the girl changed her mind.

“Hi. I’m Jennifer. You’re the girl from Cuba, right?” she asked.

I nodded. Did everyone know about me already?

“I’m Lucía. How do you know I’m from Cuba?”

Jennifer smiled. “In Grand Island,
everyone
knows each other’s business. Plus, I got back into town last week after spending the summer at my grandma’s in Idaho and I saw you at St. Mary’s. The kids there thought you wanted to be left alone, since you never came outside by the fountain and always stayed in the social hall after Mass.”

“Oh.” I looked down at my notebook.

“Doesn’t matter. I figured you were just shy or something. They should’ve introduced themselves to you anyway.”

I felt my shoulders relax a little.

“Are you in ninth grade, too?” I asked.

“Yep. There’s about five or six of us farm kids that get picked up to be taken to Central High. Everyone else in here goes to either Grand Island Junior High or Brian Washington Elementary. Hey, do you have your schedule with you? Let’s see if we have any classes together.” Jennifer took her schedule out and waited while I did the same.

She compared the two while I looked out the window. The rows of green cornstalks had grown to over five feet high, and in the morning breeze they seemed to form ripples, like waves in the ocean. I missed Puerto Mijares. Mamá had told me in her last letter that Ivette was back in town, since classes had
started their regular schedule in Cuba, too. I’d already written Ivette several times, asking her to forgive me, but she hadn’t replied.

“We have first period, which will also be our homeroom, plus lunch and two more classes together. It’s perfect ’cause, you know, it’s all new for me, too. Not the people, but going to high school. We can walk in together, ’cause you know what they call us freshmen?” Jennifer’s blue eyes twinkled. “Fresh meat.”

I smiled. I liked this girl.

“Holy moly!” Jennifer was still reading my schedule. “You’ve got Honors Algebra II with Mrs. Armistedge. I heard from my older brother that she’s super tough. You must have done really well on your placement test.”

I shrugged. I’d learned a lot back in Señora Cardoza’s algebra class, and in math you didn’t need to know much English. It was strange. Part of me felt like it was only yesterday that I was sitting in my classes in Cuba, but at the same time, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You see her over there?” Jennifer pointed to a girl with silver-tipped glasses sitting a few rows behind us. “She’s super smart in math, too. She’ll probably be in that class with you. Her name is Doris and she’s really nice.”

The girl had her face buried in a book.

“Doris!” Jennifer waved at the girl as the bus stopped again.

Doris looked up, gave us both a slight wave, then went back to her reading.

Suddenly I felt someone tickle me under my ribs. “Hey, guess who!” a deep voice said.

I spun around to see a tall boy with beautiful greased-back brown hair.

“Oh!” He jumped back. “I thought you were someone else.”

The dark-haired girl who wouldn’t let me sit with her started to laugh.

“Charlie, did you think that was me?” she called out, patting the seat to have this boy join her.

He tossed up his hands. “Sorry, Betty, from behind she kinda looks like you.”

“You are so silly!” I watched as she put her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. “I guess you got confused because she’s wearing one of my old dresses. You know, the ones I give to the needy.” She then looked straight at me and flashed a fake smile. “Isn’t it cute that they gave it to her to wear on the first day of high school?”

Suddenly I hated what I was wearing. I wanted to tear it off my body. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me so that I could disappear.

“Don’t worry about her. She thinks she’s God’s gift to Grand Island, but it’s all in her head.” Jennifer smiled and gave me a nudge. “It’s pretty much the only thing that’s in there … she’s as dumb as they come.”

I turned around and faced forward. I’d been on the bus for about five minutes and already I knew who my friends and enemies were going to be.

*  *  *  *  *

All around me, people were shouting hellos, and girls squealed at the sight of each other. It was the official start of school. As the crowd swarmed past me, I stopped to take in my surroundings. The building didn’t look so big when I’d come in to register and take my placement test, but now that it was filled with students, I felt as if I were just a speck. A speck no one seemed to notice, which was fine with me.

The green-painted hallways were all lined with lockers, and above each classroom door hung a bronze plate showing the room number. At the end of the corridor was an expansive stairway that led to the second floor. Jennifer had already warned me not to fall for the prank of being told that the pool was on the third floor. There was no pool or third floor. In fact, since I was a freshman, all my classes would be on the first floor, making it easier for me to find my way around.

“C’mon.” Jennifer pulled me by the arm. “Our class is over here. Room 122.”

We entered a half-empty classroom and headed straight for the back. I quickly put my notebook on the desk next to Jennifer’s. There was still about a minute before the bell would ring and the teacher was busy writing the day’s lesson on the chalkboard.
Unfortunately, my first class was going to be the subject I dreaded most … English. I wished the day would have started with something else, like math or science. Even PE would have been better.

As the bell rang, kids ran into the room and sat in the remaining chairs.

The teacher turned to face us. She was a middle-aged woman who looked rather ordinary except for the large mole on her left cheek. She wore a dark blue dress and her hair was neatly piled on top of her head. “All right, class, settle down. I’m Mrs. Brolin and I’ll be your English teacher this year.”

A chime sounded over the loudspeaker, interrupting the classroom chatter.

“Good morning, students,” a voice announced. “This is your principal, Mr. Pikowski. I expect all of you had an enjoyable summer and are eager to begin the school year. As is tradition, starting tomorrow, your senior-class president, Melissa Powers, will give the daily announcements. But for today, I want to extend a warm welcome …”

I froze.
Oh no. Don’t mention me
.

“… to our newest students …”

No, please no
.

“… our incoming freshman class.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Mr. Pikowski continued, “Some of you are coming to us from Grand Island Junior High, others are from
Oakes Academy, but now we are all Central High Falcons. I do want to remind all of you that as you make new friends and share new experiences, that
you
are the leaders of tomorrow. We hope you enjoy your four years here, and after you graduate, may you go out into the world to make us proud. Have a wonderful first day of school.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes.

I smiled. I was already “out in the world,” and I’d been trying my best to make my parents proud. I glanced at everyone around me. They weren’t that different from the kids in Cuba. A little more pale, and there were a few more blonds in the class, but generally the same. It seemed like I might be able to blend in, at least for a little while.