“I already do, Molly,” Alison said. “Everyone regrets meeting you. You’re a worthless waste of space.”
The two girls stared each other down. Neither blinked as they sized the other up.
“Run back to The Set, Molly,” Sally said. “Your friends don’t mind having to smell you.”
Molly turned and glared at Sally.
“You’d better watch yourself, Little Red Riding Hoodie,” Molly said. “The Big Bad Wolf is going to eat you up.”
“Manger de la merde, salope,” Alison growled.
The bell rang. For a moment, no one moved. Then Molly turned and headed for the door. She pulled it open and turned back.
“Be seeing you,” Molly said. “When you least expect it.”
She tossed her hair a final time and strutted calmly out of the bathroom. Sally sighed.
“Great,” she said. “That’s all I need.”
“Relax,” Alison said. “She’s got no power. If she tries anything, I’ll cream her.”
Sally didn’t find that very reassuring. As certain as she was Alison could totally take Molly, there was too much happening. She didn’t need extra problems.
***
Sally and Brian met before play practice as planned and went over the famous garden scene. Sally corrected his pronunciation several times and explained parts of the passage to him. She giggled when he deliberately overacted and strutted around the stage. Mr. Pipich came in in the middle of this performance, and Sally laughed uproariously when Mr. Pipich said quite seriously, “You’re not planning on doing it like that are you?”
Rehearsal flew by. Whenever Sally and Brian were both offstage, he sat by her. She continued to tell herself it didn’t mean what she hoped it did. He’d made his lack of interest completely clear this morning.
But there was what Brad said at lunch, and Brian sure did hang around with her a lot. It was hard to fathom. Sally thought she might never understand how boys think.
“Okay, everybody,” Mr. Pipich said when they were finished. “Remember there’s no rehearsal tomorrow due to the Spirit Week celebration. Feel free to go to the football game, but be careful how loudly you cheer. I don’t want anyone hurting his or her voice.
“We do have rehearsal Friday afternoon. I want to finish blocking the play, so come prepared to work. See you then. Have fun tomorrow!”
Brian accompanied Sally to her bike again. This was becoming a regular thing, and she liked it, despite his confusing behavior.
“So,” he said. “You going to the football game?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know much about football.”
That wasn’t exactly true. She used to watch with her dad on the weekends before her mom left. But she wasn’t sure what Brian’s intentions were and lying about her football knowledge would give her an out.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter!” he said, smiling broadly. “Going to games is fun even if you’re not watching.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You do the cheers, jump up and down, and have a Coke and some popcorn,” he explained. “It’s totally social.”
“Hmm,” she said.
“And I could explain the game to you, if you wanted me to,” he offered.
“Oh,” she said, fixing him with a teasing smile. “So I’d be going with you?”
“Um, yeah,” he said, looking embarrassed. “If you wanted to.”
She tried not to look too smug. She did want to. She liked the idea of him explaining the game to her as they sipped Cokes and munched on popcorn.
“Alison can come too,” he said. “I’m sure Brad will want to go.”
Sally’s heart crashed. He’d gone and done it again. As soon as she thought he might actually like her, he turned around and included Alison and Brad too. Brian Pomeroy was the most frustrating boy in the history of middle school.
“I don’t know, Brian,” she said. “I’ll have to see. It might be a good opportunity to catch up on my homework. We’ve got those paper topics for Mr. Pipich due Friday, and I don’t know what I’m gonna write on yet.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding crestfallen. “Well, ya know, if you feel like going, let me know. It would be fun to go with you.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”
She finished wrapping the lock chain around her bike and turned to start wheeling it away.
“Bye, Brian,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Hey, wait,” he said, starting after her. “Can I, uh, can I walk you to the top of the hill today?”
She really didn’t want his company anymore. He’d upset her too much.
But she was also afraid of what might be waiting for her on Parker Drive. Maybe if she had someone with her, Shakir’s dogs wouldn’t be able to come out of her dreams to hurt her. She’d barely escaped yesterday. What if she wasn’t so lucky this time?
“Okay,” she said.
He smiled happily and rushed to catch up with her. He fell in quickly. She hid a smile of her own. She liked a boy escorting her, even if it was one as infuriatingly confusing as Brian Pomeroy.
“You know, Sal,” he said as they began their ascent, “there’s nothing wrong with being gay.”
She snapped her head around to face him. While she was used to such stark conversational changes with Alison when they played The Question Game, it was definitely odd to hear it from Brian.
“What brought that on,” she asked.
“Well, this afternoon,” he explained, “you got all defensive and angry when Molly said I was gay.”
“That’s because it’s not true,” she said. “She’s trying to spread ugly rumors about you just because you’re spending time with me instead of her.”
“I know,” he said. “But you sounded like you were furious about her saying I was gay.”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
“Well, sort of, I guess.” His voice trailed off. Sally watched him closely as they walked. “But it sounded like you were mad at her for saying I was gay, like there was something wrong with that.”
Sally wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t quite get her mind around what he was trying to tell her.
“It’d be kind of like if you were mad at her for saying I was black,” Brian continued. “A gay person can’t be any less gay than I can be less black. It’s who they are.
“But more importantly, there’s nothing wrong with their being gay in the first place. That’d be like saying there was something wrong with me for being black. See what I’m saying?”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it,” Sally said, feeling embarrassed. She had never really considered the question before. She’d been so focused on trying to mature into a woman, the idea of sexual orientation had never crossed her mind. “It just makes me mad that Molly is saying anything she can think of to hurt you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Brian said. “It makes me mad too. When she calls me a faggot, it sounds just like she’s using the N-word on me. That really pisses me off.”
Sally nodded. When she thought about it, it was the same as Molly calling her Little Red Riding Hoodie or making fun of her for having a flat chest.
“I didn’t mean it like there was something wrong with it,” Sally said. “Molly’s a bitch, and I wanted to stop her from trying to hurt you. So I hit her with something that would annihilate her.”
“It was awesome too,” he said. “Molly’s the kind of girl who needs to be reminded when other people get the things she wants. She needs to be reminded she doesn’t have a God-given right to them.
“I just wanted to make sure you understood I don’t think being called gay is an insult. I’m an ally.”
“Cool,” Sally said.
“Definitely cool,” Brian replied.
They trudged on in silence until they reached the top of the hill. Sally scanned the horizon for any sign of Shakir’s dogs. She saw none.
“Okay, Red,” he said, “here you are.”
She smiled. She liked that he used the special nickname she had given him.
“Thanks, Brian,” she said. “I appreciate you walking me.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
They stared at each other for a moment. Sally thought she could drown in those brown eyes of his.
“I hope you’ll come to the game with me tomorrow,” he said. “It’ll be more fun if you’re there.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, blushing.
“Think hard.”
They continued staring for another few moments. Then Brian put his hands in his pockets.
“Bye, Red,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Goodbye, my Romeo,” she replied.
He grinned and then turned around and started back down the hill. She stared after his retreating form. A happy sigh escaped her lips before she mounted her bike and headed for home.
***
Sally walked in the door to discover a woman she didn’t know sitting in the living room talking to her father.
Oh, shit! she thought. The social worker!
She hadn’t cleaned like she’d planned to. She’d been too busy with the play, her schoolwork, and trying to survive Shakir’s machinations. She’d forgotten the social worker was coming. She’d blown it! She’d let her dad down!
“Well, you must be Sally,” the woman said, as though she’d been waiting her whole life for this.
“Uh, yeah,” Sally replied.
“Sally, this is Sheila,” her father said. “She’s from Social Services.”
Sheila stood up and beamed at Sally. Sally didn’t like her right away. She was middle-aged, overweight, and gazed at Sally through horn-rimmed glasses. She had curly blonde hair, and a sunny disposition Sally thought was totally false. Why would she act all nice and friendly, when she was really here to find a reason to take Tommy and her away from their dad?
“Sally, I wonder if we could have a little chat,” Sheila said. “Would you like to show me your room?”
“No,” Sally said.
“Oh, okay,” Sheila said with an insincere, little laugh. “How about the kitchen table?”
How about you go away? Sally thought.
“Okay,” Sally said.
“Dad,” Sheila said, “why don’t you take Tommy outside or to his room.”
Her father nodded and got up like a doomed man headed to execution. He trundled down the hall, went into Tommy’s room, and shut the door.
Sheila got up and went to the kitchen table. Sally followed her, feeling much like her father looked. She half-expected this woman to turn into Shakir and attempt to devour her now that they were alone.
“Now I want you to understand no one is in trouble,” Sheila said as she sat down. “The school placed a call, because your brother had a little incident this week, and they just want us to make sure everything is okay.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sally said. “Everyone wants to make sure ‘everything is okay.’ Whatever.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s just that I’ve heard that same line at school multiple times,” Sally said. “Next you’re gonna tell me I can trust you and I can tell you anything and it will be safe.”
“Who’s been asking questions at your school?”
“My English teacher,” Sally said. “He seems to think my getting an A+ in his class and having the lead in Romeo and Juliet means something is wrong at home.”
“Ooh, you’re playing Juliet?” Sheila said.
“Yes,” Sally said, a little surprised at that reaction.
“That must be a lot of fun,” Sheila said.
“It is.”
“Sally I just need to know a couple things about how things work here at home,” Sheila said, changing back to the subject at hand. “Now, I understand you do most of the cooking. Is that true?”
Sally’s heart stopped. Tommy must have told her that. He must not have known it was the wrong thing to say.
“I wouldn’t say ‘most of the cooking,’” she said. “I cook sometimes, but only when Dad is too busy.”
“When is Dad too busy?”
Shit! Stop giving bad answers, stupid!
“Like when he’s had a hard day at work,” Sally said. “If he comes home, and he’s really tired, I’ll cook so he doesn’t have to.”
“How often does that happen?”
“Not very often,” Sally said.
“What about the laundry,” Sheila asked. “Tommy says you do that. Would you agree?”
“I do my laundry,” Sally said. “I’m old enough.”
“I’m sure you are, dear,” Sheila said. “Do you do everyone else’s?”
“Only occasionally to help out,” she said. “Like if Tommy wets the bed, I’ll throw his sheets in the washer and take care of him, so Dad can get ready for work.”
“Tommy wets the bed?” Sheila said. “How often does that happen?”
Sally cursed herself again. She’d made another mistake.
“Hardly at all,” she lied. “It’s maybe once a week.”
The entire interview went that way. Sheila would ask an innocuous question; Sally would answer it, lying if she had to make her father look better. She made several errors and had to cover them up. She grew increasingly worried she was doing more harm than good.
“Okay, Sally, just one more thing,” Sheila said. “What kinds of consequences do you get for bad behavior?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what sort of punishment does Dad give out? Does he ground you, make you do extra chores, spank you?”
“He doesn’t spank us!” Sally said, raising her voice. “He doesn’t hit us at all.”
“I didn’t say he did, dear,” Sheila said. “I was just asking for what sorts of things happen when you step out of line.”
“He just yells at us,” Sally said. “He isn’t mean, and he isn’t bad. He just yells at us.”
“Okay, dear,” Sheila said, “I think that’ll do fine. Thank you for your help.”
Sally wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t like the fact that Sheila seemed to give up. What did it mean? What was she going to do?
She called Sally’s father, and both he and Tommy emerged. Her father tried not to look scared. Tommy was petrified.
“Okay, gang,” Sheila said. “I think that answers all my questions. I’ll discuss everything with my supervisor, and we’ll be in touch.”
“So we passed?” Sally said. Sheila chuckled.
“It’s not that kind of test, dear,” she said. “We’ll be in touch. Let me know if you have any questions.”
She gave Sally’s father her card and showed herself out. Everyone stared after her.
“C’mon, you guys,” her father said, breaking the silence at last. “I’ll take you to McDonald’s.”
Sally was surprised. They never went out to eat. Given the way her father said it and the timing of the surprise, she didn’t think it could possibly be good.
Fifteen
Sally attempted to go to bed early that night. Believing she had failed her father, she was desperate to redeem herself, to fix things for him.
She barely glanced at her homework. Tomorrow was Spirit Day at Roosevelt Middle School. There was a big pep rally in the afternoon and the football game afterward. Most of the teachers weren’t taking schoolwork too seriously – although few of them were as Rah! Rah! Roosevelt! as Mr. Frank – and so she wasn’t that concerned about how well she knew what she’d been assigned.
And she didn’t have a head for it tonight anyway. She was way too caught up in her problems at home to care about what happened at school.
She got under the covers and gripped the coin tightly in her right hand like Alison had suggested. Then she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to take her.
And she waited. And waited. And waited.
She tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep. Her mind was alive with dread. What would happen if they took her away
from her dad? Where would she go? Would she end up in a different school? Who would play Juliet if that happened? Would Molly get the part now that Sally was out of the way? That would be beyond unfair! Would she ever see Alison again? Would Brian forget all about her? Who would take care of her dad?
She told herself to stop thinking about such things. She told herself to calm down and go to sleep. She couldn’t do it.
She rolled over and looked at her clock several times. “10:21,” it read. Then “10:43,” “11:08,” “11:14,” “11:36,” and finally “12:01.”
She sighed heavily. Her hand sweated around the coin. It was uncomfortable in her clasp. She had to keep wiping it off on the sheet.
She wanted to cry. Didn’t anyone understand? She had to take care of everyone. She had to fix this, so her dad could keep his children, so she could go on caring for Tommy. If she couldn’t get to sleep, she couldn’t find the key, and without it, she couldn’t change her destiny. She couldn’t stop being the sad, pathetic child of a drunk out of work. She had people to save.
At 12:22, she became despondent. Sleep would never come to her. She would never rescue her family. She was a failure.
***
Sally stood in the hallway at school. She heard a clinking sound. Then a coin came around the corner and rolled straight to her. It slowed down and stopped between her feet before teetering and falling over. It was gold and appeared to be a token from an arcade.
Sally knelt down. She knew this was important somehow. She picked it up and examined it. Aside from how it glittered, it was otherwise unremarkable.
She stood up and turned to her left. Mr. Pipich’s door stood shut across from her. She approached it, but when she put her hand on the knob, the light inside the classroom went out. She tried the door. It was locked.
All at once, the now-familiar chant started up: “Shakir! Shakir! Shakir!”
She turned back to her right and saw the giant dogs come skittering around the corner. Their eyes burned with malevolent, red light. Their jaws dripped with drool, anticipating tearing her to pieces.
Little Red Riding Hoodie: A Modern Fairy Tale Page 18