Waiting for Normal (12 page)
“Uh-huh.” I thought about the dress again and I let a spill of tears loose. I wiped my nose on my sleeve. Mommers looked at me and rolled her eyes like I was being ridiculous. Then she went back to watching
Jeanette
.
I didn’t say much more to Dwight. He tried to congratulate me on being a woman but it came out all messed up when he got flustered. “Forget it,” I told him. Then I said good-bye. When he hung up I was sorry I hadn’t been nicer to him. He’d tried to stick up for me. I hadn’t thanked him for that.
I blew my nose and climbed into my bunk for the night. Mommers kept giggling at something on the TV. I peeked out of my curtain and saw her put a cigarette out in the dirt of the new poinsettia pot. I curled into a ball like Piccolo, hoping I’d fall asleep fast.
D
ecember twelfth is one of the shortest days of the year, but it was a long day at school. We were waiting for seventh period, when the Stage Orchestra was to perform the holiday concert for the staff and students. It was like a dress rehearsal, only without the dress—a good thing, if you asked me. Finally, our principal announced that the members of the Stage Orchestra should assemble in the auditorium. I followed Robert and Helena down the hall.
I’m not sure but I think we played the best we ever had. Nobody sounded flat or squeaky. Nobody lagged; the tempo was right on each piece. For my solo part, I fixed my eyes on Ms. Rivera. (One advantage to not being able to read the music is that you can keep your eyes on the conductor.) I came in perfectly on her cue and didn’t miss a note.
Ms. Rivera was happy; she turned to face all the musicians while the audience was still clapping (and clapping, and clapping). Her pretty red lips formed an exaggerated
Thank you
to all of us. A rush of blood warmed my chest.
Afterward, the stage buzzed as everyone put their instruments away. They were all excited about the
real
concert, yet to come. I stayed in my chair for a while. I pulled the swab through the flute a few more times than I needed to. I could never stop reminding myself that the flute should have been returned to Borden School. I also flashed on my terrible dress over and over again.
“Addie?” I blinked and looked up at Helena. “What’s the matter? It went well, don’t you think?” Her voice rose so cheerfully I had to smile.
“Yes. But I was just thinking …well.” I waited. “Part of what I was thinking is that I wish we didn’t need to do the concert again. I wish we were done. I don’t want to come back tonight to play for the parents and grandparents.” Or stepparents. “Besides, what are the chances we’ll all be that good again?”
“Addie?” Helena squinted at me.
My eyes burned. “No, really. What are the chances Robert will leave enough bow to hold the long notes on ‘Song of Winter’ again? He’s been having trouble with that.” Helena nodded slightly. “And me. Will I really hit my solo twice in one day?” I shook my head. “It’s no big deal, I guess.” I fumbled with the sections of my flute as I tried to put it in the case. I’d broken it down a thousand times but I was getting it all wrong. I switched the sections around again. Helena sat down next to me.
“My dress for tonight is awful,” I whispered.
“Oh, you got a
dress
? I have a hand-me-down skirt. It’s too short to be long and too long to be short. I look dorky in it.” She snorted a laugh.
“My mother bought me a dress,” I said. “It’s …it’s a grownup dress. It’s a gown, like a model would wear.”
“Oh.” Helena poked her bottom lip out.
“It’s tight. The straps are skinny. My bra shows. Oh, Helena, I don’t think I can bear to wear it.”
“What are you gonna do?” Helena asked.
I shrugged. “Nothing. My mother says I have to wear it.”
“Can you wear a sweater over the top?”
I thought about that. “I don’t think so. There’s this ruffle around the chest. It looks like a tutu.” I wondered if I could somehow stuff it all under a sweater. Then again, I knew Mommers wouldn’t go for that. “I think I’m stuck,” I said.
“Well, never mind,” Helena said. “It doesn’t matter what you wear.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “You’ll be awesome tonight. All of us will be.”
Helena stuck with me on the way home. We walked past the gates of
Onion
College together. The trees were bare but the weather was mild that day. We’d had a few good snows and the streets were filled with puddles that’d freeze in the night. The shops and houses along Nott Street were decorated for the holiday. Helena and I pointed them out to each other as we walked. The window of the Tibetan shop was filled with satiny ropes of brass bells, paper lanterns and stacks of embroidered prayer rugs like always. The man in the store switched on a set of multicolored lights just as we strolled by and the whole window shone like one big ornament.
The guys at Hose Company No. 6 were busy. One guy stood there with his yellow rubber coat on, arms spread wide, while another fireman sprayed the mud off him with a hose.
“There. That’s what I need,” I said, nudging Helena. “A big Hose Number Six raincoat.”
Helena covered a laugh with her hand. “Hard to play the flute in,” she giggled. “Go ahead, Addie. Ask him if you can borrow it!”
“Oh, Helena!” I laughed.
Just then the guy in the coat looked up at us and flapped his arms. I gave Helena a shove to move her along the street. I knew we were going to start cracking up again if we stayed.
At the Goose Hill Barber Shop, where we always split up, Helena said, “You will come tonight, right? You won’t skip out?”
I stood looking at the beautiful tree inside the barber shop window. Several red blossoms, as big as paper plates, had opened up on it, and the barber had strung hundreds of tiny white lights through the branches. I had described the tree to Soula one day, and had asked her what kind it could be. She’d told me, “Sounds like a Chinese hibiscus, Cookie. Terrific indoor tree, and willing to bloom in conditions it was never meant to encounter.”
Willing.
“I’ll be there,” I told Helena. “I know people are counting on me.”
T
he plan was for Mommers to take me to the school that night. Dwight and Hannah and the Littles were supposed to arrive on their own. Then we were all going to Numbskull Dorry’s for dessert. That was something to be nervous about right there; Mommers was about to meet Hannah. But I knew if we got through that, and if I got through my music okay, the night could be fun. Besides, I had decided that Helena was right: the concert was going to be great and I couldn’t let a bad dress ruin it for me. I made a choice to un-grump.
Mommers wasn’t at the trailer when I got home from school. Two hours later, at six o’clock, she still wasn’t there. I needed to be at the school at seven, so I figured I should eat. I’d taken a con tainer of turkey soup from the freezer earlier and I dumped it, still partially frozen, into a pan on the stove.
I ate my soup, peeking out the front window every once in a while to see if Mommers was coming. At six thirty, I rinsed my bowl and figured I’d better get ready. I took the world’s fastest shower, using most of the time to shave my armpits—very carefully. I stepped into the dress and yanked it up hard, hoping it would split in two. (It didn’t.) I tucked my bra straps down inside the ruffle.
“Piccolo,” I said, stopping by her cage, “be glad you came to the world with fur.” She started a run on her wheel.
I looked in the mirror. My shoulders looked naked. I remembered Helena’s idea about the sweater and decided to try it even if it would make Mommers mad. I looked through my own things, came up empty and headed for Mommers’ room. There was a white cardigan with pearly buttons in her drawer. I pushed my arms into the sweater. I wrestled the ruffle flat and got all the buttons closed. “Ha! Trapped it!” I said, and Piccolo stopped running to look at me.
I went to the mirror once more. “This is all wrong,” I sighed. The flattened ruffle showed through the sweater and looked like some kind of strange roadkill. The sweater rode up too short on me because of the ruffle, which was trying to spring back to full fluff. I pulled down on the sweater hem so many times it began to lose shape. I knew I had Helena beat on the dorkiness scale no matter what her skirt looked like. And talk about
itchy
! With all that netting rubbing my skin, I felt like I was being sanded. On the other hand, I was happy to be covered up. “White on top, black on bottom.” I did a little side to side glance in the mirror and talked myself into thinking that I looked okay.
I grabbed my Fresh Whisper and reached under the sweater—couldn’t let that ruffle out—and loaded my pits. I brushed my hair, then my teeth, and checked the clock. Six fifty. I shuffled into a pair of black plastic clogs, my only nonsneaker shoes.
“We’ll have to fly to be there by seven now,” I told Pic. “And”—I raised a finger and grinned—“Mommers will be too late to make me change … if she ever shows. Gosh, she has to show.” I put my coat on and looked out the picture window. No sign of the blue car.
At seven fifteen, I felt hotter than a prairie fire. I’d been buttoned up in all my layers for twenty long minutes. “Oh, Mommers! Come on! Come on!” I wriggled and clenched the handle of the flute case hard in my hand. Finally, it hit me, she wasn’t coming. I was going to miss the concert.
The phone rang.
“Addie?” Dwight spoke loudly, like he couldn’t hear well. In the background I could hear the members of the Stage Orchestra tuning their instruments. “Where are you?” he shouted.
Well, think about that, Dwight,
I thought to say.
Where did you call?
That’s what Mommers would have said to him. I bit my lip.
“Mommers must have forgotten,” I said.
“How the heck— Hold on,” he said. Dwight was talking to somebody. Hannah? No. He had Ms. Rivera there with him.
“I should’ve walked,” I said, knowing it was too late now.
“Addie, be ready! I’m coming!” I heard a click.
Dwight came screeching up in front of the trailer minutes later and I hopped into Hannah’s car. (The truck was too small for everyone.) He flashed a white smile at me. “Hiya!”
I grinned back. “Hiya,” I said.
I assembled my flute in the car as we roared up Nott Street. I ran into the school at the backstage door, which was propped open for air, with Dwight on my heels. I peeked into the auditorium. The house lights were still up. I caught a look at a few faces in the front row.
“Oh God!” I gasped. I backed out so fast I stepped on Dwight’s boots. “We have to leave!” I grabbed his arm.
“What? Addie, come on. They waited for you!”
Ms. Rivera was turned toward me, a nervous smile on her lips.
“Dwight! I can’t,” I whispered. I dug my fingers into him.
“Ow!”
“We
have
to leave,” I said. I pulled him back out toward the parking lot. My heart pounded. I could hardly breathe. “It’s Mrs. Sylvester,” I said, still gripping his jacket. “She’s the music teacher from my old school. She’s here!”
“So?” Dwight’s face was all twisted up. My bottom lip started to quiver.
“The flute. She knows I never returned it. Dwight, I mean it. I can’t go in.”
Dwight went inside just long enough to flag Ms. Rivera. I guess he told her to start the concert without me.
“I’m sorry,” I said when he came back. I had already disassembled the flute and was snapping down the lid. The sound of our opening piece poured from the stage door. It was beautiful—and crushing. “I know you went to a lot of trouble to be here. And to get me here,” I choked.
“No, no, no. Never mind that.” Dwight reached into his pocket, but since he was in his fancy clothes he didn’t have a handkerchief. He pulled his sleeve down over his hand and wiped my face first, then my nose. He pulled me inside his jacket and stood there hugging me. Hannah came around the building from the main entrance within minutes, one Little on each arm.
“Are you guys all right?” she asked. She dropped my sisters’ hands and they ran to me.
“Why you didn’t play, Oddie?” Katie wanted to know.
“What happened?” Brynna stared at me. Poor Brynna. I wished she were still little like Katie. We couldn’t just blow her off anymore by telling her part of the truth or plunking a dish of ice cream in front of her.
“The …the flute,” I lied. “I have a problem with the flute.”
“Right,” said Dwight. “We need to do something about the flute.”
Hannah and Brynna looked completely puzzled still.
Dwight brought his hands together in a loud clap that I think startled even him. “Why don’t we go for a drive, look at Christmas lights, and we’ll end up over at Numbskull Dorry’s like we were planning.”
“Yippee!” Katie’s happy breath made a cloud in the chilly air.
“That way Mommers can still catch up with us there,” Dwight added.
Mommers
. I fumed at the mention of her. Anger roared up inside of me, then faded in a sick feeling.
“Can you take me back to the trailer first?” I asked. “I want to change.”
Mommers arrived at Numbskull Dorry’s Pretty Good Pub Food in a frantic flurry of swear words. Her hair was a mess, like tumbled hay. I watched her wide eyes narrow as she focused on me.