Freaky in Fresno

by Laurie Boyle Crompton

  “I didn’t know you were coming too, Ricki,” Aunt April says to her. “But whatever it takes to get Lana to LA.” She turns to me. “Come on, cousins in the back. Her Highness, you can ride shotgun.”

  Lana’s legs are still kicking in the air and she struggles to stand back up. Her body flails awkwardly as she tries to rock herself up and out of the car. Finally, she just rolls the rest of the way forward and pops up so she’s kneeling on the back seat.

  “You really have zero core strength, huh?” she says to me, then realizes everyone is watching her. She quickly flings one arm up in the air, showing us she’s holding the diary we stole from Aunt May’s yurt this morning.

  The sisters look at Lana in shock as she points to the silver kissy lips pictured on the cover. “Look familiar?” she asks them.

  “Hey,” Aunt May says. “That’s not yours.”

  I widen my eyes with fake surprise and say, “Wow, where did that come from?”

  My mom hugs Zelda to her chest and snaps at Lana, “How on earth did you get that, Ricki?” I realize I’m essentially making myself take the fall. Which is totally unfair, since this was all Lana’s idea.

  I say, “Ricki and I stole the sisterhood journal from Aunt May’s yurt! Together. In fact, it was mostly my decision!”

  Ignoring me, Lana opens the leather-bound book and runs her finger down the page. “Sisters of the sisterhood,” she reads aloud. “Right here, you all signed your names to this list of promises.”

  “Sisters! Yas!” Her Highness seems thrilled by the overuse of her favorite word.

  “We need to get going,” Aunt April says.

  “No,” Lana says sharply to her mom. “For the sake of your daughter, you need to listen.”

  Aunt April bites her lips, and we all gather around as Lana raises the open book and begins reading dramatically.

  “Number one! We the undersigned do promise to never let go of each other, no matter what happens. We promise to always be there for one another and tell our sisters when they have lipstick on their teeth, after we’ve finished laughing, of course.”

  We all chuckle and Lana goes on. “Number two! We promise to honor and respect each other’s interests, for the world loves to mock the things we girls see as awesome. Let us not fall into that same trap.”

  We look around at each other and I feel a pang for telling Lana her fans have goldfish brains and for judging the group of girls at the mall earlier. That squealing mob had enough sheer positive energy to light up the world. And they deserve respect.

  “Some things do not change,” I say.

  Lana adds, “It says, sidenote: we shall equally share each issue of Teen Beat Magazine, with the exception of any pinup posters of heartthrob John Stamos, who shall belong exclusively to June.”

  I look at my mom. “Seriously?”

  She blushes and says under her breath, “He’s still foxy.”

  Lana continues. “We will always follow our dreams and support the dreams of others.” She looks up and adds, “But that doesn’t mean you should force your dreams on others. Aunt April, Lana doesn’t really want to be famous. Can’t you see that she’s been riddled with anxiety ever since Lookie Lana! took off?”

  She looks at me and I wring my hands, trying to look as anxious as possible.

  “Her mental health should be more important than her channel stats,” Lana says. “Do you really want her to become one of those tragic train wreck people who can’t handle fame?”

  Aunt April looks at me with open surprise. “But Lana is special,” she says.

  “Of course I am,” I tell her. “But special and famous are very different things.”

  “That’s some tea there,” Her Highness says. “Plenty of famous people are nothing special.”

  I say, “And plenty of special people have zero desire to be famous.”

  Aunt April is looking at me. “You really don’t want to be famous anymore?”

  I look at Lana as I say, “I’m so sorry, Mom. But I don’t think I ever did.”

  My mom says, “I tried to tell you, April . . .”

  And Aunt May says, “Aw, shut up already, June.”

  “The sisterhood list goes on,” Lana loudly interrupts. “We make a pact to call each other on their crap.” She points at the sisters one at a time. “Well, I’m calling it. The three of you need to start paying attention to what is happening in each of your lives.”

  The sisters move closer to each other defensively. Zelda gives April a warning growl from my mother’s arms. But they don’t move apart.

  Instead, my mom hands Zelda off to Her Highness, and the Chihuahua immediately shows her approval by climbing onto H’s shoulder.

  “And the one final rule,” Lana says. “Which is actually written in as an official addendum.”

  My mom says, “In April’s handwriting, I’m sure.”

  “Always the official one.” May laughs.

  “The addendum reads”—Lana looks up from the book—“always, always, always say yes to a road trip.”

  The sisters share a look of surprise, and Lana says, “Signed April, May, and June.”

  She snaps the book closed and the three of them continue standing close, looking back and forth at one another. Her Highness whispers under her breath, “Sisters.”

  “So, road trips are always a yes,” Lana says. “And right here, in your faces, is an epic pink convertible! And here’s the thing. This exact car? The very pink convertible right here in front of you—?”

  She points to the car and nods at me.

  “It’s Nona’s Skylark!” I shout the punchline.

  Aunt April and my mom both gasp, while May takes a step backward, breaking up the huddle. All three sisters start talking over each other at once, which is how they communicate when they’re amped up. Lana and I smile at each other.

  “You actually had the car all along?” Aunt April asks. She sounds angry.

  My mom asks, “How could you keep such a big secret?”

  “You guys were busy with your families and just moved on from your grief,” Aunt May says. “I felt all alone and couldn’t let go of Mom.”

  “I was devastated all over again when I thought the car was gone,” Aunt April says. “Especially since I thought you’d undersold the value.”

  “I can’t believe it was with you this whole time.” My mom hugs herself and stares at the car.

  “I’d been so bonded with Mom, caring for her when she got sick.” Aunt May absentmindedly fluffs out the skirt of her costume. “She asked me to keep the car parked on my property and said I’d know when it was time to share it.”

  “Typical Mom,” Aunt April says. “Controlling us, even from beyond the grave. God, I miss her.”

  My mom says, “I didn’t even notice how much the three of us have grown apart since she’s left.”

  “We all handled the loss in different ways,” Aunt May says. “Me? I grieved by getting another wolf dog and burying myself in furry love.”

  Aunt April says, “And I never stopped trying to prove I was good enough for Mom. And now I see how that’s affected my own daughter.” She turns to me. “I’m really sorry for pushing you so much, Lana,” she says. “And we’re going to work on getting you help for your anxiety. Reconnecting with your cousin is a great first step.”

  Lana and I look at each other and smile.

  My mom says, “Yeah, well, as always, I’ve handled everything perfectly since Mom died.” The others groan, and she holds up a finger to add, “Except for the part where I started to isolate from my two closest friends because I didn’t know how to be sad with them.”

  “You think we couldn’t handle you being sad?” Aunt April says. “You were such a gloomy teenager. Before college you were always sad.”

  May says, “Adolescence was not a good look on you.”

  “Ah yes, I’ve missed this.” My mom laughs, and I try to picture her being anything other than bright and hopeful when she was my age.

/>   “I guess nobody knows us quite like the people who have known us all along,” Lana says, and the sisters all nod at the truth of this. But Lana is looking at me when she says it, so I tip my head to her and give a long blink in agreement.

  My mom says to Aunt May, “So when you saw Lana and Ricki were growing apart, you decided it was time to bring Mom’s car back?”

  “That was really selfless of you,” Aunt April says.

  “They’re the next generation of the sisterhood.” Aunt May smiles. “You two bonded while you were pregnant, and it was like you had your own secret pact. You can’t know how outside of it I felt.” She looks back and forth between her sisters. “But now, I helped them reconnect. So I’m a part of it too.”

  “Yes, you are!” my mom says. “My goodness. Just look at the two of them, sneaking around and stealing our sacred journal together.”

  “That’s nothing.” Aunt April chuckles. “You should’ve seen them speeding away from the mall together like they were Thelma and Louise. I wanted to murder them both!”

  The sisters crack up laughing and hug and start talking over one another again.

  I exhale with relief. Surely this is the reason why Lana and I switched places. To get the sisterhood back together.

  “Wait a minute.” Aunt April turns to me so quickly I swallow a chunk of air. “So, we’re really just not showing up for your big performance at Digifest right now?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say weakly.

  “Lana,” she growls, “do you have any idea how many phone calls it took for me to secure you that spot? And then the miracle of getting the car added in?” Her eyes dart back and forth as if she’s searching for what she should do next.

  “I’m really sorry,” I say.

  “Oh, well, as long as you’re really sorry!” Aunt April says sarcastically, and then seems to realize she’s getting out of control. She grabs a chunk of her hair and starts twisting it.

  Aunt May and my mom move to either side of her. Each of them places a soothing hand on her back.

  “April, honey,” Aunt May says. “This is okay.”

  “We’re here for you,” my mom says. “But it’s Lana’s decision. Just let it go.”

  Aunt April takes a deep breath, and immediately breaks down crying.

  Lana and I look at each other with wide eyes at seeing her like this. Her sobs get louder and louder, until, finally, she starts trying to talk. “Meyyyyy fiiiir gt shuuuu dounnnn,” she says between sobs.

  May and my mom share a puzzled look, trying to decipher what their sister just said. They both shrug, shake their heads, and pat her back even more vigorously.

  Her Highness shifts Zelda to the other shoulder and moves so she’s facing the three of them. “Okay, April, that’s enough.” H snaps and Aunt April turns her tear-streaked face toward her.

  Her Highness asks her, “Have you even considered managing someone you didn’t breed yourself?”

  “April has been working in entertainment law,” my mom says protectively. “She just celebrated ten years at her firm, right before shifting her focus to managing Lana full-time.”

  Her Highness says, “Did you not just hear her say her firm got shut down?”

  “What?” Aunt May looks back and forth between them. “How did you understand what she just said?”

  “It’s true,” I say. “Mom didn’t want anyone to know.”

  My mom lunges to hug her older sister. “April, why on earth didn’t you tell us?”

  Aunt May joins in the hug. “That stinks, sis. What are you going to do?”

  Aunt April clears her throat. “I don’t honestly know,” she says. “At first, I was applying for interviews at other entertainment law firms, but there are only a handful of them here in Fresno, and no way are we moving to LA.” She looks at her sisters. “But then I saw that Lana’s channel had a few popular videos, plus that one that went totally viral, so I started studying up on the BubeTube business. It turns out it’s a market that has been exploding, and meanwhile my law firm turned its nose up on the whole sector. It was only interested in traditional showbiz and in representing real stars.”

  “Probably why they had to close,” Lana says as she climbs back out of the Skylark.

  Her Highness nods. “BubeTube-famous doesn’t mean famous-famous to most folks over thirty. Meanwhile, many of us have a much larger audience reach than most celebrities do.”

  Lana adds, “Walk-of-fame stars only go to people in music, movies, or broadcast television.”

  I say, “Remember when I asked what the funny boxes with Vs were the first time I saw the stars in the sidewalk in LA?”

  Aunt April wipes her eyes and points at Lana. “I thought Ricki asked what the televisions were.”

  “Lana thinks everything’s about her,” Lana says and winks at me.

  “Say, Ricki,” I ask her dramatically, “didn’t you have a good solution for Digifest?”

  “Actually, I thought you had that great idea, Lana,” she says.

  “Listen up!” I raise my voice above the still-chattering sisters. “Ricki and I have a great idea!”

  Lana cuts in. “Since Lana has no desire to pursue fame, and Aunt April has managed to secure this awesome spot at Digifest . . .”

  She grins at me and I nod. “Mom, how about if we give my performance spot to Her Highness?”

  Aunt April looks over to Her Highness, who’s been elegantly petting Zelda. “What do you think, H? Ready to hit that stage tonight?”

  “That would be ah-mazing!” Her Highness sings. “But I’ll do you one better. April, baby, I see your talent and I want you to be my new manager. What do you say?”

  “I don’t know,” Aunt April says, “I really need to focus on finding a job . . .”

  “Oh, honey,” Her Highness says, “managers get twenty percent. And since this afternoon’s stunning display at the mall, I already have two new sponsors knocking down my door. Or should I call that our door?”

  Her Highness leans in to whisper numbers into my aunt’s ear. As she listens, Aunt April’s lips move with the quick math she’s doing in her head.

  Her lips stop a beat before spreading into a smile. With her eyes wide, she says, “Um, yes, Her Highness. I do believe we can work with those numbers in helping you achieve your long-term goals. I’m happy to act as your official manager.”

  She offers H a handshake, but Her Highness ignores her outstretched palm. Instead, she passes my mom her Chihuahua and tackle hugs Aunt April.

  “And now a hug with all my new sisters!” Her Highness opens her arms wide and gathers us into a giant group hug right there at the playground’s edge. “Come on now,” she scolds. “Everyone, get yourselves in here. You too, Miss May, with that fabulous look of yours.”

  I’m not entirely sure H knows the Glinda outfit is a costume.

  Lana and I end up squished together in the center of the six-way hug and whisper together, “Sisters.”

  After a beat of sentimentality, Aunt April peels off from the group and looks at her phone. “We need to leave right now if we’re going to get Her Highness to LA on time. Time to move, move, MOVE!”

  Her Highness laughs. “I like your moxie. We’re going to have fun working—”

  “Now!” Aunt April shouts, and we all disperse.

  Lana whispers to me, “Better H than me. I am not going to miss all that shouting.”

  “Even though I’m not singing, if you need me to ride along with your mom, I understand,” I say. “Your relationship with her is more important than the Starlight’s reopening.”

  “Are you kidding?” Lana says. “You’re so close to everything you’ve worked really hard for. No way are either of us missing this!”

  Aunt April is investigating the convertible. “Is there anything we need to know about the car?”

  “Just that I’ll be driving you to LA,” Aunt May says, gathering up her skirt and twisting it into a knot. “This is too close to a spontaneous road trip for me to
not come along.”

  Aunt April looks at my mom. “June, what do you think?”

  “My book group will hate me.” My mom looks at her sisters. “But far be it from me to break a pact I signed almost thirty years ago.”

  Aunt May punches one fist in the air and calls out, “Road Trip!!”

  “Let’s get Elvis cued up in case May gets us pulled over again,” Aunt April says.

  “You’re the one who was speeding,” Aunt May says. “I didn’t even drive the last road trip since I’d lost my license for . . .” She looks at Lana and me.—“Reasons.”

  Lana and I look at each other and my mom leans down to whisper to Lana, “She was a scofflaw.”

  “A scofflaw?” Lana sounds scandalized.

  “Unpaid parking tickets,” I explain, and Lana nods.

  “I’m so excited,” Aunt May says as she climbs behind the wheel.

  My mom says, “I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed you guys.” Her eyes are shining. “April, I’m so sorry I had no idea you were struggling to find work. We need to share each other’s burdens.”

  Aunt April snaps. “I am going to share my burdens right on your heinie if we don’t get moving now, now, now! Let’s go! I have a client and I need to get her to a very important venue!”

  Aunt May says, “And she’s back, folks—our sister April.”

  My mom slides into middle front seat of the Skylark and Her Highness jumps in the back. The Chihuahua climbs along the front headrest so she can investigate H’s tiara. Her Highness immediately picks up Z and begins to snap delighted selfies of the two of them together in the back of the pink convertible.

  Aunt April looks at me and Lana. “That’s a big back seat. You girls coming?”

  “We’ll catch the next wild road trip,” Lana says. “We have a drive-in celebration to help with tonight.” She looks at me. “And it’s really important, to both of us.”

  I grin at her.

  Aunt April jumps into the car and we move out of the way and start waving goodbye.