Story Time

by Edward Bloor

  "Well, what did he say?"

  June shook her head slowly, reliving the painful memory. "He said a lot of things. He said I was lying. He said I was on drugs. He said I had some genetic mental illness from Ma and Pa.

  "Within a week he had packed up all his fancy stuff and moved out. He took that job with the American Schools Abroad Program, I suppose, to get as far away from me as he could."

  George finally found his voice. "You, June? You were possessed? By Jack?"

  June replied, with an intensity and purpose in her voice that none of them had ever heard before: "Jack and Jill went up the hill."

  38. A Historic Visit from the First Lady of the United States

  The sun rose in a bright blue sky on Tuesday morning, the morning of the First Lady's visit to the Whittaker Building.

  June drove Kate and George downtown at 9:00 A.M. Ma and Pa trailed behind in their van, transporting the other four members of the Tri-County Cloggers. All six cloggers were dressed head to toe, hats to boots, in their most spectacular outfits.

  Kate and George climbed out of the Geo Metro at a distant parking spot along the River Road. They stared at each other's yellow silk pants and purple-and-yellow-striped shirts for a long moment, making horrible faces.

  June locked the car and walked up to them, nervously tying and retying a black scarf under her chin. She was wearing a blue pantsuit that Kate did not recognize. June's face, beneath her natural brown hair, was white with fear.

  Kate surprised June by taking her left hand. Then she took hold of George's right hand. She led them up the long hill to the Whittaker Building, moving grimly and silently, five paces ahead of the jangling sequins and clanging spurs of the Tri-County Cloggers.

  The group approached a security checkpoint outside the main entrance. Agent McCoy himself stopped them. He compared their identification cards to a computer printout. Without a word, he undipped a velvet rope and indicated that they should proceed to the entrance. There, another agent opened the doors and watched them file past the fiery mosaic of Andrew Carnegie in Hell.

  Dr. Austin and his wife were in the lobby, busying themselves by making last-minute adjustments to the table display of TBC: Test-Based Curriculum.

  June untied her scarf, slid it off, and dropped it ceremoniously into a garbage can. With her restored brown hair and her rediscovered blue suit, she now looked exactly as she had on that fateful day in the lobby ten years before.

  Dr. Austin stopped straightening his books and stared at her. His calm expression became troubled.

  Cornelia looked up from the table and snapped at June, "Get upstairs and set out those folding chairs." She informed Kate and George, "Pogo's not here to help you. You'll have to cover her duties, too. You can start in the basement. Bring up the refrigerator with the soda cans."

  George bristled at the rude treatment, but Kate took it in stride. She exchanged a quick smile and a wave good-bye with June. She walked toward the service elevator looking up and thinking of her mother in a whole new way—as the woman who had swung on the Whittaker Library chandelier.

  As soon as they reached the basement, Kate and George spotted a cooler bearing a purple-and-yellow sign. The sign read THIS ONE! in Cornelia's large handwriting.

  George said, "She forgot to add 'You idiots!'"

  Kate picked up the sign and studied it with interest. "Uncle George? Why would anyone go to the trouble to do this?"

  "I don't know." George thought about it. "To keep us from taking the wrong cooler?"

  "Okay. But this one obviously has four hundred and eighty cans of soda in it. What's in the other one?"

  "Nothing. Presumably."

  "Then why bother writing a sign?"

  George studied the sign, too. Then he smiled slyly. "Let's go find the other one."

  They checked in the kitchen and in the furnace room with no luck. Then they snuck into old Mr. Pogorzelski's workshop. The second cooler was hidden in there, in a back corner, covered with a roofing tarp.

  Kate and George pulled off the tarp together. Then they let out a simultaneous shriek. They grasped onto each other and peered through the glass top in open-mouthed horror.

  Neither could speak for several seconds. Finally Kate managed to say, "Oh my god. Tell me I'm not seeing this."

  "Sorry," George stammered. "But I'm seeing it, too."

  Just inches below them, in the frosty cooler, were the bodies of Walter Barnes and Mildred Hodges. They were frozen together, their limbs entwined in an embrace they would never have shared in life.

  Kate thought long and hard. Then she said, "Uncle George, I don't think we were supposed to see this."

  George gulped his agreement.

  "Furthermore, I don't think we have to take any more crap from the Whittakers, or the Austins, or the Whittaker-Austins, ever again."

  George tried to smile.

  "The only question is: What do we do next?"

  George flailed his arms and head, trying to shake out his fright. He thought for a moment longer, then he answered with a large measure of sarcasm, "I'm not sure I understand Mrs. Whittaker-Austin's sign. I think maybe she wanted us to switch the two coolers."

  Kate laughed and clapped her hands. "You're right. That is probably what she meant. But we were too stupid to see it at first." She leaned over to grasp the cooler. Then she had a moment of doubt. "Wait a minute. Can we really get away with this, Uncle George? What if someone checks it?"

  George was ready with an answer. "If we turn down the temperature, it will be so foggy that no one will be able to see in."

  Kate stole one more glance at Walter Barnes and Mildred Hodges. Then she reached for the thermostat. "Let's do it."

  Kate and George parked the frosty refrigerator in its designated spot on the roof and returned to the lobby. Dr. Austin and Cornelia were still standing in place at the TBC table.

  Cornelia snatched up a shopping bag and shook it at Kate. "Here! Take this orca costume. Then get yourself up to the County Commission Room. I want you hiding in the closet listening for your entrance cue." She held up a sheaf of stapled papers. "This is your script. Try to memorize it. Try not to destroy my book completely."

  Kate accepted the bag and the script without comment. Once inside the elevator, she examined the large head, gaping mouth, and black-and-white flippers of the Orchid the Orca costume. George just stared at it.

  "Don't say a word," Kate warned him.

  George looked away. "There are no words."

  At the eighth floor, the doors opened onto another strange sight. William Anderson was standing at the railing outside Dr. Austin's office. He was dressed in a white smock with a white painter's cap. At his feet were two cans of opened paint, one blue and one red. His arms held an aluminum extension pole with a narrow paintbrush attached at the end.

  Kate called out to him in a stage whisper, "William!"

  "Oh! Hey, Kate!"

  "William! What are you doing?"

  "Turns out I'm not in that patriotic thing with you guys after all. I've got a special job right here."

  "As what? A painter?"

  He corrected her. "A pretend painter. When the First Lady and all of them get here, I'm supposed to pretend like I'm painting George Washington's head. You see, that way, they'll think I've finished the whole thing except the head."

  "Did Dr. Austin think of that?"

  "Yeah. He did."

  "I knew it. Okay. Keep your eyes open. Remember: Semper Paratus."

  William smiled happily. "Yeah. Semper Paratus."

  Kate held one finger to her lips, indicating the end of the conversation. The three of them then leaned over the railing and waited for the scene to unfold below.

  Outside, a large contingent of reporters and onlookers strained to get a look at the occupants of three black Lincoln Town Cars as they pulled up to the Whittaker Building.

  The first person to step out was Agent Pflaum. He carried a long black bag with the word BIOSENSOR emblazoned in red on i
ts side. He looked around carefully and then opened the door of the second car, the First Lady's car.

  The people in the crowd cheered as the First Lady stepped out, turned, and waved to them. The First Lady was a familiar sight to all. Her pleasant face and soft voice had been beamed into American homes for three years. She looked and acted like what she was—a former first-grade teacher.

  The door to the third car opened and Rosetta Turner emerged. She waited for the First Lady to finish her smiling and waving; then she guided her subtly, by the elbow, toward the glass entrance.

  Dr. Austin, Mrs. Whittaker-Austin, Bud Wright, and Susan Singer-Wright stood waiting at the end of the Andrew Carnegie in Hell mosaic.

  Cornelia's voice resonated down the entranceway. "Welcome, Madam First Lady, to the magnificent library built by my—"

  But Rosetta cut her off. "We'll do all of the introductions upstairs."

  Agent McCoy approached the Austins and the Wrights with a piece of paper. "This is your official timetable. The day is going to proceed minute by minute, exactly like this. There will be no surprises. Should myself or any of my agents be compelled to spring into action, you are to follow our directives immediately and without question."

  Dr. Austin took the paper and nodded his acknowledgment.

  Agent Pflaum then led the way to the service elevator. He unsheathed his BioSensor and trained it on the doors. The doors opened just as he pronounced it, "Uninhabited."

  McCoy growled, "We can see that, Agent Pflaum."

  Rosetta guided the First Lady into the elevator. McCoy turned to the Austins and Wrights and told them, "You'll have to ride up in another one."

  Dr. Austin didn't hesitate. He took off at a run and led his group to Elevator #3. They arrived on the eighth floor just seconds after the First Lady's group and managed to head them off at the entrance of the County Commission Room.

  This time Rosetta Turner did make proper introductions, based on identification badges, of the Austins, the Wrights, and the county commissioners. The First Lady smiled graciously at all. Then she gravitated toward the children wearing headbands and gis. They were posed in a small group, each holding a copy of Green Eggs and Ham.

  The First Lady kneeled next to one little girl. She put an arm around her, smiled, and said, "This is one of my favorite books, too. Tell me what you like best about it."

  The little girl smiled back and replied, "It contains excellent modeling of the phoneme-grapheme representation g-r."

  The First Lady stared at her blankly until Rosetta took her elbow, raised her up, and moved her deeper into the room.

  39. Orchid the Orca

  George and Kate positioned themselves near the back, trying to look inconspicuous in their yellow pants and purple-and-yellow shirts. George muttered, "Hey, do you want to break into 'Dingdong! The Witch Is Dead'?"

  "No. I just want to get this over with. My god, Uncle George. This getup is bad enough. Next I have to put on that ridiculous orca costume."

  George gripped her arm and told her sincerely, "You're a great performer, Kate. It doesn't matter what you wear. Whatever you do will be great."

  Just then Dr. Austin walked to the center of the dais and raised his hands for silence.

  "Thanks," Kate whispered. "I'd better get into my closet now." She slunk off.

  The people in the room quieted and looked at Dr. Austin. He began, "Madam First Lady, distinguished guests: Like me, you may have grown tired of reading about how students in Asia and in Europe are ahead of our own students in reading, history, science, and mathematics.

  "I decided to do something about it. My TBC: Test-Based Curriculum has sparked a revolution in America's schools. Nowhere are the results more evident than here at the Whittaker Magnet School.

  "At Whittaker we consistently outscore every other state in this nation on standardized tests. In fact, we outscore every other state on their own state tests. Our next goal, with the president's help, is to spread the word that our methods will work in all of America's schools."

  Cornelia stepped up behind her husband. She raised one hand and gave the applause signal to the county commissioners, the Juku Warriors, and their parents.

  Agent McCoy watched her closely.

  Dr. Austin then followed his introductory remarks with a glowing description of the Whittaker After-School Preparatory.

  George listened for his cue. Upon hearing the words "the Juku Warriors," he arranged his seven charges into a straight line and walked them to the front. He awaited his next cue, which was "GRE vocabulary," after which he was to lead them in a round-robin spelling of antidisestablishmentarianism.

  But George had no intention of doing that. When the cue came, he whispered, "A-one and a-two," and the Juku Warriors again broke into "I Won't Grow Up."

  The First Lady was clearly delighted. She clapped merrily as the Juku Warriors executed a ragged bow.

  George leaned over so that all seven children were looking at his face. Then he whispered to them, "Okay, guys. It's Bubble Time. Who here remembers Bubble Time?"

  He backed away slowly, slipped out the door, and hurried up to the roof.

  Dr. Austin announced to the crowd, "A little silliness to warm things up. Now, to get down to business: Our little spellers here at Whittaker have progressed beyond words that appear on the Graduate Record Exam. But don't take my word for it, listen to them."

  Dr. Austin turned and pointed at the Juku Warriors. All seven had welled up with tears. One by one, they started to cry noisily, waving their arms, stamping their feet, and looking around angrily for their parents.

  Dr. Austin remained pointing at them, a weak smile frozen on his face. Finally, Susan Singer-Wright came to his rescue. She ran out and shooed the children off the dais, turning and calling to the First Lady, "Aren't they precious? Don't you just love them at this age?"

  The First Lady smiled back sympathetically.

  Dr. Austin glared at the Juku Warriors with the bitter look of a man betrayed.

  Susan announced the next person to speak: "My own dear husband, local businessman and entrepreneur, Mr. Bud Wright."

  Bud walked to the front as genially as his injuries would allow. He began, "Madam First Lady, we're in a library, and I'm here to talk to you about a book. It's a new children's classic called Orchid the Orca." Bud paused to hold up a copy.

  "It's all about a big, lovable fish named Orchid, who eats lots of free shrimp all day and gets treated like a queen. She knows it, too. It's just the federal government that don't."

  Rosetta Turner directed a steely gaze at him.

  "So—let me introduce the author of this children's classic. She's our own Cornelia Whittaker-Austin."

  Cornelia stepped forward and took Bud's place. She began with an awkward curtsy toward the First Lady. "Madam First Lady, as Bud told you, I am the author of the children's classic Orchid the Orca. Because the actress who would have played Orchid, our own Heidi Whittaker Austin, took ill, we will not be treated to her extraordinary performance today. I hope that you, Madam First Lady, may invite her down to the White House so that you can see it."

  Rosetta held up her watch, a Rolex Cellini this time, and stared at it pointedly.

  "In the meantime, as they say on Broadway, the show must go on." Cornelia paused for a moment to steal a glance into the back. Heidi and Whit were sitting on either side of their nurse. Heidi was staring straight ahead; Whit was drooling.

  "I will read the beginning of my text, and then a substitute for Heidi Whittaker Austin will read the part of Orchid the Orca."

  She cleared her throat productively and began. "Orchid the Orca swims in a big, safe public swimming pool. She gets lots of food and excellent medical care. But, sometimes, she is lonely.

  "She watches all the mommies and daddies and boys and girls who come to visit her. She watches the ladies with their husbands. She watches the girls with their boyfriends. And she knows there is something missing in her life. Even though she likes helping the chil
dren learn all the county science requirements in one fun stop, and even though Mr. Bud Wright takes excellent care of her, she has one request that she would like to make of him."

  Cornelia paused and looked to the side. Kate, upon hearing her cue, opened the closet door and stepped out dressed in the black-and-white orca costume. A tittering sound rippled through the audience, like a suppressed wave. Even the First Lady stifled a laugh.

  Kate took three steps forward and stopped. She looked around for George, and then for any friendly face, but she could not find one. She tried to remember her lines, but she could not recall the first word. Her mind began to race. She found herself thinking about the Juku Warriors, with their No. 2 pencils; and the Mushroom Children, with their green faces; and William Anderson, with his changing addresses.

  She peered through the orca head until she spotted the guest of honor. She took another three steps in that direction, prompting Agent McCoy to cast a cautionary glance at Agent Pflaum.

  Kate stopped directly before the First Lady, closed her eyes, and pleaded with all the pent-up longing in her soul: "Set me free! Please! Set me free! I am trapped in a tiny pool and made to perform like a clown. I'll never see any of my friends again or do any of the things I love again. Please! Please! Send me back to the ocean where I belong. Set me free!"

  Bud bolted upright in his chair, straining his neck. He pointed vehemently to Susan to do something. Susan hopped up, stepped forward, and smiled brightly at the First Lady. "I guess she just forgot her lines!" She then grabbed Kate by a black-and-white flipper and started pushing her toward the closet.

  But Kate ripped free from her grasp. She turned to the First Lady, pumped her flipper into the air, and shouted, "Free Orchid the Orca! Free the Mushroom Children! Free Pogo and the can man!"

  Then she ran for the door as fast as her costumed legs would allow her. Once in the hallway, she ripped off the orca head, unzipped the front, and threw the rest of the costume to the floor like a molted snakeskin.