The Cannibals

by Grant, Cynthia D.

  Unfortunately, all the scenes filmed at Hiram Johnson have been dumped and are being reshot at a high school in LA. So there goes my big break. But, and was this ever a load off my mind, SBM’s insurance company paid to have the swimming pool resurfaced!

  So it’s better than ever now, thanks to me!

  Anyway, who could feel depressed in the spring? The days are so sunny and warm, the birds are singing, and all the trees and flowers are in bloom. It makes me feel so hopeful for the future. Like my mom said, the end of SBM wasn’t the end of the world. I still have Campbell and my friends and my modeling career. There’ll be plenty of other big breaks down the road. For Pete’s sake, I’m only seventeen!

  And I realize now, after everything I’ve been through, that there’s more to life than fame and success. Much more. I’m even thinking of putting off college for a while and joining the Peace Corps.

  When I told that to Campbell, he was very impressed. But that’s not exactly why I said it. I really believe that when a person has been blessed with money, looks, intelligence, et cetera, they owe it to God to give something back to life.

  Campbell says I seem much more considerate and mature.

  Another good thing that came out of all the bad stuff that happened is that I really appreciate my parents now, and how they try to make the world a better place. My dad comes up with all these great ideas and inventions, and my mother has devoted herself to teaching, although she plans to quit when they move to the coast and open their Home Sweet Home House. House Home. Whatever it is. I can never remember. Which may or may not pan out, I don’t know. But we all have our dreams, no matter how dumb they are, and they deserve a chance to blossom and grow.

  One thing I do feel guilty about: I’ve been so wrapped up in myself and my own problems that I haven’t gotten around to calling Wally’s dad and finding out how poor Wally’s doing. The last I heard, he’d been found in the jungle and returned to his school. In a cage!

  Doesn’t Wally understand that the sooner he gets with the program and cooperates, the sooner he’ll be able to come home? I wish there were some way I could explain it to him. Maybe I’ll write him a letter tonight, if I’m not too exhausted.

  But first—on with the show!

  If there is anything more exciting than Macy’s Spring Fling Fashion Show, I don’t know what it is! It is truly the highlight of the season.

  This afternoon, as I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup in the dressing room, I bowed my head and said a special thank-you to God. I mean, think about it. What a privilege it is to get to wear beautiful clothes and walk out onto the stage and down the runway with my darling Campbell, in front of newspaper photographers and an adoring crowd, when half of the world is naked and starving.

  It makes me feel so humble and so blessed.

  That settles it. I am definitely going into the Peace Corps.

  I wonder if you can choose where they send you.

  Campbell has never looked more handsome than he did tonight, and I could tell that The Girls were really envying me. But they tried to be good sports about it, even Shelby, who was stuck with that lunkhead Bryan, who fell off his skateboard on the way to Macy’s and knocked out his two front teeth.

  The other reason The Girls might have been feeling a tiny bit jealous was because at the end of the show I was the one who’d get to wear the June Bride gown while they had to be my bridesmaids. It wasn’t my idea. Mr. Margo said he picked me and Campbell because we are the ideal couple.

  It’s true. And not just because we look so good together. We’re soul mates, through and through. During the entire SBM ordeal, when all my hopes and dreams were crumbling, Campbell stood by my side and never faltered, or tried to act like he didn’t know me. He never even threw the pool in my face!

  I just hope that I can always be as good a friend to Campbell as he has been to me. And someday, if it pleases God, his wife.

  Mr. Margo has a motto that is tattooed on my brain: “The model’s final effort must be to conceal the effort that it takes to be a model.”

  In other words, being pretty, professional, and poised isn’t enough. There’s a lot more to modeling than just smiling and strutting your stuff!

  Not only do you have to know how to walk and turn and pause, showing the clothes to full advantage, and not blink your eyes, so you’ll look intense, but you must also be able to undress very quickly and get into a new outfit and back onstage without looking like the clothes were thrown on you from a speeding car.

  Plus, try to “suck in your gut and tuck up your butt” for two hours! That’s our other motto.

  Believe me, it’s not easy!

  But I love the work. There is something so rewarding about hearing all those cameras clicking, and the way the audience oooohs and aaaaahs when you make your entrance in a fabulous dress. Plus, when it comes to making money, it sure beats babysitting!

  The first part of the show went smoothly as Campbell and I took a “Cruise to Alaska,” dressed for church in our “Sunday Best,” toured Europe in our “Around the World” coordinates, and decided to “Paint the Town Red” in our matching “Grad Night Party” ensembles. Which reminds me: I have got to call Dean Schmitz! He’s absolutely swamped the answering machine with messages and has even started calling my parents.

  In between our appearances, The Girls and their escorts modeled casual apparel: “Sun ’N’ Surf,” “Tennis, Anyone?” et cetera. I know The Girls were disappointed that they didn’t get to wear more dress-up stuff, but I told them that they still looked great.

  Then finally it was time to prepare for my big entrance, the show’s grand finale: the “June Bride” scene.

  As Mr. Margo assisted me with the rows of tiny genuine pearl buttons, the clouds of veil, and the shimmering white train, a thousand butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I was thinking, this is how it will be in real life someday, for Campbell and me, with The Girls, my best friends, there beside me, sharing that golden moment.

  “Tiffany, you look so beautiful!” The Girls gasped, even Shelby. Grateful tears sparkled in my eyes.

  Campbell saw me backstage, just before we made our entrance, and the look on his face made me cry some more.

  “Tiffany, you look like an angel!” he breathed. “You’ll make some lucky man so happy someday.”

  “So will you,” I stammered. “You look so handsome, Campbell.” He looked fantastic in his snow-white tux accented with a single red carnation. “Too bad you can’t dress like that all the time.”

  He laughed—I guess he thought I was joking—then he took my hands and said, “Seriously, Tiff, you’re a beautiful person. Inside and out. Some man will be proud to call you his wife.”

  I wanted to shout, “It’s you, Campbell,” but my eyes said everything that needed saying. He kissed me on the cheek and wished me luck, then took his place behind the curtain.

  I’m already the luckiest girl in the world, I was thinking, struggling to control my emotions. But suddenly The Girls were crowding around me—and they were all crying, too!

  “Tiffany,” Barbie wept, “we just want to tell you—

  “—how much we all love you!” Kendall cried.

  “And how sorry we are for feeling jealous of you sometimes!” Ashley sobbed.

  “And for all the mean things we’ve said behind your back!” Shelby sniveled.

  “Darling, don’t cry.” I gently touched her cheek. “You’ll make your mascara all smeary.”

  “Do you forgive us, Tiffy?” they asked.

  “Of course I do,” I said.

  And as I said the words, I knew that they were true. Through all of my trials and tribulations, I have become a bigger, better person—forged in the flames of foolish pride and smelted in the coals of redemption.

  “Everyone makes mistakes, Girls. Even me,” I admitted. “Can all of you forgive me, too?”

  Then we were blubbering and hugging each other until Mr. Margo came over and said, “Please, girls, you�
��re stressing the satin.”

  But as I took my place, I couldn’t help wondering, What mean things had they said behind my back?

  But there wasn’t time to dwell on that; my future was unfolding like a rainbow-colored ribbon. The tape recorder began to play “The Wedding March.” Campbell walked onstage and took his place beside the altar.

  Then The Girls, my bridesmaids, slowly filed onstage, looking adorable in their matching teal-blue dresses, in spite of all Shelby’s reservations. She’d said the dresses were the color of her grandmother’s veins.

  The moment had arrived: It was time for my big entrance. Mr. Margo gave me the signal and I moved onto the stage. “Small smile,” he hissed. “No teeth.” Step, pause. The audience gasped when they saw me and broke into wild applause.

  Step, pause. Step, pause. I was trembling all over, imagining that this was only a rehearsal for what would be the happiest day of my life. Step, pause. Step, pause. I could barely see where I was going. Spotlights, flashbulbs, and tears flooded my eyes. I was blinded by—I guess you’d call it joy.

  But as Campbell moved forward to greet me at the altar, something in the front row of the audience caught my eye; someone who made my brain reel with shock, as I recognized the tufts of reddish hair, the face that had tanned into one big freckle, the cheeks etched with scars in a primitive design.

  “Tiffany!” he cried. He wasn’t even wearing a shirt.

  “WALLY!”

  I pitched forward, blacking out.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I haven’t left the house or been back to school all week. And not just because I landed on my nose when I fainted. Thank heaven my black eyes are finally fading.

  How can I ever face Wally again? After everything he’s been through, how can I tell him that it’s over, that Campbell and I are together now and practically engaged? Not that I want us to get married right away; I think we should graduate from college first and get our careers going.

  But I feel so guilty when I think of poor Wally, hacking through the jungle to get back to me, the memory of our love his only hope …

  I’m afraid this will break his heart.

  The first few days after the FASHION SHOW FROM HELL, Wally kept calling and coming by the house, but I wouldn’t answer the phone or the door and finally, he went away. I haven’t even talked to Campbell or The Girls. I feel like I’m living all alone, on the planet of Tiffany.

  Why on earth did Wally carve those weird designs into his face? I almost had a heart attack, he looked so strange, like some kind of clown in a scary movie. Couldn’t he have surprised me when the fashion show was over? Snapshots from a nightmare haunt my brain: me, lying on the floor; people staring down, shocked; Mr. Psycho-Clown shouting my name; the “Wedding March” playing …

  My parents urged me to go back to school right away. They told me that the swelling was hardly noticeable.

  “Your face looks fine,” they said, but they were just being kind. I looked like I had a pair of panty hose pulled over my head.

  Don’t they realize how cruel kids can be to anyone who looks the slightest bit different, even if the person can’t help it?

  I just want you to know, God, that I get the message, and that I’m sorry for every mean thing I’ve ever done.

  But I still don’t see why Mimi wants to go around looking like Mrs. Potato Head.

  This morning my mother came into my room and insisted that I go to school.

  “Tiffany,” she said, “you’re so far behind in your studies. Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your friends before everyone leaves for college?” et cetera.

  I turned from the mirror, where I’d been gazing at my face. The swelling had subsided and the skin around my eyes wasn’t purple anymore. I was ready to face the world—and Wally—again.

  “All right, Mother,” I said. She looked so happy and relieved!

  Which reminds me: Wasn’t Mother’s Day last week? Do they sell belated Mother’s Day cards?

  My father gave me a big hug and kiss when I came down for breakfast, and as I drove to school, I knew that I had made the right decision. It was time to face the music, smell the coffee, bite the bullet.

  Which is something I hope all of my future readers will remember if anything like this ever happens to you. No matter where you go, you can’t hide from yourself. So you might as well put a big smile on your face and say, “Here I am, Life! Take your best shot!”

  It was heartwarming, how glad everyone was to see me. Even Dean Schmitz waved and called my name. But I didn’t have time to talk to him right then. As I stood at my locker, getting out my books, I saw Wally walking down the hall toward me.

  Silently, I prayed for strength. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt poor Wally, after everything he’d been through already.

  “Hey, Tiff!”

  At least he was wearing a shirt, but his hair was still tangled and crazy. He kissed me on the cheek.

  “Hello, Wally,” I said, smiling fondly at him. “It’s good to see you at school again.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “My dad decided to let me come back so I can graduate with my class and everything.”

  “That’s nice,” I managed, but my ears were ringing. Then I realized it was the bell for first period.

  “You look good,” Wally said. “I missed you, Tiff.”

  “I missed you, too,” I stammered, then added, “I heard you got married.”

  He smiled, embarrassed. “It was more like going steady,” he said. “Things are different in the jungle.”

  “I’ll bet. Anyway, that’s okay,” I said. “You must’ve been so lonely.”

  “I was,” he said, “but your letters really helped.”

  The scars on his cheeks were twin spirals, and it looked like there was a tiny chicken carved on his chin. Poor Wally. Even if Campbell and I weren’t going steady, there’s no way Wally and I could’ve gotten back together. Too much has happened; we’ve grown apart. And Macy’s would never have let him be my escort again.

  “I’m sorry I scared you at the fashion show,” he said.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “You didn’t mean to.”

  “And I’m sorry I haven’t called you lately,” he said.

  I had to hide a smile. It was so ironic! Wally thought he hadn’t been calling me, when I was the one who’d been avoiding him!

  “It’s just that—I don’t know how to tell you this, Tiff,” he said, “but I’ve fallen in love with someone else.”

  My smile stuck to my teeth. “I beg your pardon?” I said.

  “I know this sounds crazy,” he said, “but it was love at first sight, like I was seeing her for the very first time. Even though we’ve known each other since kindergarten. Do you know what I mean, Tiff?”

  “Uh-huh,” I managed.

  “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he said, “but I knew you’d want me to be honest, Tiff, ’cause that’s the kind of person you are.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said.

  I’d carefully rehearsed the speech I’d planned to give to Wally. Now here he was, giving it to me! We would always be good friends, he said. He hadn’t meant to let me down. But so much had happened; we were different people now. Did I think that I could ever forgive him? et cetera.

  “Of course I can, Wally,” I calmly replied, while a voice inside me screamed, You’re not breaking up with ME, you twit; I’m breaking up with YOU!

  But what was the point of hurting Wally’s feelings? I felt proud at how much I’ve changed and grown. The old Tiffany would’ve acted like a spoiled brat, but the new, improved Tiffany was mature.

  Besides, this made everything a whole lot easier.

  “These things happen,” I said. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

  “Mimi Durning.”

  “WHAT?” I said.

  “I’m not kidding, Tiff,” he said. “It’s like magic or something, like there’s some kind of electrical current between us.”

  He said a
bunch more stuff—I could see his lips moving—but all I could think was: Mimi Durning? He’s dumping me for Mrs. Potato Head?!

  My mind reeled with shock, but I must’ve kept smiling, because Wally hugged me and said, “Thanks, Tiff. I knew you’d understand.”

  “Uh-huh,” I answered.

  “Well, we’d better get to class now,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

  Then he pecked me on the cheek and was gone.

  I stumbled through my morning classes in a daze. My teachers warned me about overdue assignments, my friends chattered happily about the fun we’d have in a few weeks at the Grad Night party. But their words were like tiny, whining insects in my ears. I brushed them away, lost in a world of my own.

  Mimi Durning?! Why would anyone, even Wally, choose her instead of me?

  Had his ordeal in the jungle driven him insane? Was he suffering from the effects of a tropical brain fever? Had he eaten some kind of hallucinogenic frog? I’ve read about stuff like that in Reader’s Digest.

  These were the thoughts tormenting my mind as I drifted in a haze from class to class.

  At lunchtime Campbell caught up with me in the Senior Quad. I tried to smile and act normal, but he could tell that something was wrong.

  “Tiff, what’s the matter?” Campbell asked. “You look so strange.”

  “I think I’m allergic to egg salad,” I said.

  “I met Wally,” Campbell said. “He’s a really nice guy. You must be so glad to have him back.”

  “Yes,” I said. I wasn’t ready to go into all that. “Campbell, let’s go for a ride after school. Someplace quiet where we can talk.”

  “Are you sure Wally won’t mind?” Campbell said, and he winked.

  “I’m positive,” I answered.

  “Great,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot after school.”

  He left for his next class, and I should have gone to mine, but school was the last thing on my mind. Suddenly I felt like I was sitting in the front row of the audience, watching a movie about my life. The camera had zoomed in for a close-up of Tiffany Spratt—and I didn’t much like what I was seeing.