by Laura Dower
Once out the door, Madison made a beeline for the parking lot to search for Dad and Stephanie’s car.
She wondered how the rest of the night would turn out.
“Let’s motor, Maddie!” Stephanie called out. “Clock’s ticking!”
“Yeah, Maddie,” Dad grumbled. He wasn’t happy about having to go play miniature golf, but Stephanie had twisted his arm.
“I don’t know what to wear!” Madison cried. “I just—have to—finish getting—dressed—”
Madison was stuck as to which pants to wear. Would it be jeans pair number one (boot cut, faded, button fly), or jeans pair number two (the ones that never felt like jeans but rather like stretchy leggings)? Then she held up a flowered skirt instead and pulled that on. It would be cooler, and anyway it matched her strappy red sandals. …
What am I doing?
Madison sat down on the bed for a moment more. She thought about Hart, back home in Far Hills. What would he have said if he had known that she was heading out to play mini-golf with another boy? And what would Ann say tomorrow when she found out? Was Madison overthinking this—as she overthought everything?
“Maddie,” Stephanie said softly from the doorway to Madison’s room. “I really think we’d better go before Dad changes his mind.”
Madison smiled. “Okay. I’m coming.”
There were many reasons Dad didn’t want to go. For starters, he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of Madison hanging out with a boy she’d only just met.
“This isn’t actually a date, is it?” Dad asked as they got into the car.
“Of course not,” Madison said. “Dad, I’m only twelve. I don’t date, remember? Besides, I can’t date Will anyway. I like someone else. And someone else likes Will, too, so …”
Stephanie chuckled at Madison’s babbling, but Dad set his jaw and scowled.
“Whom do you like?” Dad asked.
Madison looked down at the upholstery of the car so she wouldn’t have to meet Dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“I like Hart. Back home, Dad. Remember? You’ve met him a few times.”
“Oh, Hart. Yes,” Dad said, although Madison was pretty sure he didn’t remember a thing about him.
Stephanie gazed silently out the window. Madison tried talking to her once or twice, but all she got was a nod or a shrug. Things between Stephanie and Dad still felt funny.
When they got stuck in traffic off Main Street, where all the fast-food restaurants and attractions were located, Dad turned on the radio. A classical station came on. Stephanie quickly changed the station to soft rock. A slow song came on that Madison didn’t recognize. Dad and Stephanie knew it, though. They mouthed the words. Madison could tell, even from all the way in the backseat. She was watching their every move.
Somewhere in the middle of the song, Stephanie let out a little gasp, and then Dad made a funny, angry face and then—wait!—was Stephanie crying? Dad reached over for a squeeze of Stephanie’s knee, but instead of taking his hand as she normally did, Stephanie pushed it away.
“Look!” Stephanie said. “We’re here.”
Madison looked, too. In front of the car was an enormous neon sign: RIVERSIDE MINI-GOLF.
The parking lot was packed.
Stephanie got out of the car with Madison while Dad went to find a space in the lot next door. Madison wanted to ask Stephanie if something—anything—was wrong, but she held her tongue. Stephanie would talk if she wanted to. It was obvious she didn’t want to.
Madison’s eyes scanned the crowds. Dozens of people waited on benches that lined the sides of a long sidewalk, waiting for their rounds of mini-golf to begin. Madison spotted Will, waving his arms like a windmill.
“There he is!” Madison said, cocking her head in his direction. “Up at the front of the line.”
Stephanie grinned. “I see.”
Will’s usually shaggy hair was combed back nicely. In one hand he carried a chocolate-and-vanilla-swirl cone from the Mr. Frostee ice cream truck parked near the mini-golf entrance. In the other hand he held a mini-golf club with a blue-taped shaft. His grandparents were with him.
“So,” Will’s grandfather said, greeting Madison and Stephanie as they approached, “we have been waiting for this all day—a chance to meet Will’s newest camp friend. Madeleine, is it?”
“It’s Madison, Pops,” Will told his grandfather,
Madison chuckled. Stephanie extended her hand to both of Will’s grandparents.
“Hello, I’m Madison’s stepmother. Madison’s dad is parking the car,” she said quietly.
“Well, howdy-do,” Grandpa Ralph said.
“Let me go get our clubs,” Stephanie said, excusing herself.
Madison nodded. Then she glanced around for other kids from camp. Was Ann lurking nearby? Had Suchita or Logan come to play?
“Um … where is everyone else?” Madison asked.
“Uh … Teeny’s on the way.” Will smiled, taking an enormous bite of his ice-cream cone. Half of it ended up on the ground, but Madison pretended not to notice. “And?” Madison asked.
“And … that’s it.”
“That’s it?” Madison said. Only one other person from camp would be there? And it was a boy—not another girl? She felt strangely thrilled by the prospect of this and tried to hide the excitement in her voice. Maybe Dad wasn’t so wrong after all. Was this a date?
It was at least a half date, Madison thought—if such things as half dates existed. She was, of course, overthinking the whole thing again.
Just breathe. Breathe.
The entire mini-golf complex soaked up the white-and-blue glow from the large lights in the parking lot. The eighteen-hole golf course was full of oddly shaped structures and signs. One sign bragged how the golf course was world-renowned because of its funnily themed holes. Another sign read: ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK with a smaller line at the bottom that said, YOU MAY DIE LAUGHING.
Madison felt her pulse rate increase just standing there. The word popped into her head once again. But this wasn’t a date, was it?
A moment later, Stephanie dragged over their three clubs, some colored golf balls, and a large soda. Then Dad arrived with a big smile on his face, car keys jangling in one hand, and the opposite hand extended in greeting.
“Glad to meet you, too, Jeff,” Grandpa Ralph said warmly. After a second round of introductions and chatter, a cell phone went off.
Dad felt in the pockets of his linen jacket for his phone. Stephanie quickly checked her own purse. Then Will reached inside his pocket.
“Yo, hey,” Will said as he flipped open his phone. “We’re here, waiting. We’re almost to the front of the line. Where are you?”
Madison tried not to stare while Will talked.
Will had his own cell phone?
He got off after a minute.
“That was Teeny,” Will said. “His mom is coming to drive him over here right now. She had to work today, so they’re running a little bit late …”
“Oh.” Madison remembered that Teeny was one of the campers who actually lived in Florida year-round. If they didn’t make it in time for the first tee off, Teeny and his mom could catch up with everyone after a hole or two.
At last, Madison, Will, Ralph, Dad, and Stephanie found themselves at the front of the mini-golf line. A sculpture of a purple hippo was there to greet them; a tape recorder inside the statue played an Elvis song. The whole scene was straight out of someone’s crazy mind. Madison loved it.
Will placed his green golf ball on the first rubber tee mat.
“You swing,” he said to Madison, leaning over to bow like a prince bowing to a princess in a movie. Madison gave it a try, but her wide swing hardly moved the ball. A divot the size of Madison’s fist now rested on the mat.
Giggling, Madison did her best to hit the golf ball (and not the divot) toward the hole.
Will hit his ball next. It rolled up the steep incline toward a lighthouse that sat up on a miniature bluff, but then r
olled back down again. This was a tough hole. Stephanie, Dad, and Grandpa Ralph, in that order, hit balls after that. In order to get to the hole, each golfer needed to hit the ball into one of three bigger holes at the bottom of the base of the lighthouse. Madison missed all three holes at least four times and watched as the ball rolled right back down to her. After a few tries, she was up to a 14 on a par four hole.
Mega-embarrassing.
The second hole was a teeny-weeny bit better. This hole brought Madison face-to-face with an enormous pirate ship. At least it was a big target—or so she thought. Madison aimed her club straight at the boat so she wouldn’t risk blowing the shot.
POP.
Madison’s ball rolled harder than ever, right into a hole on the right side of the ship.
Will laughed. He seemed to know what would happen next. He’d been playing this mini-golf course every summer since he was nine.
“The ball will come out,” Will warned. “But it will get stuck somewhere in the corner, and you will definitely have wasted two shots on this one—unless the ship moves. Sometimes it does that.”
Madison watched with joy as the ship lifted up and shifted to the side just as Will had said it might. And like magic, her ball drifted into the right hole.
“Congratulations, Maddie,” Stephanie cheered from behind them. “How did you do that?”
Madison smiled at Will. “I don’t know,” she said coyly.
Dad gave Madison a round of applause, which embarrassed her.
As the group finished up on the second hole and headed over to the third, Teeny finally showed up. His mother was dressed in a dress and high heels.
“I should have changed my clothes!” Teeny’s mom declared as soon as they walked up. She was definitely overdressed for mini-golf.
Then again, so was Madison, in her flowered skirt.
“Maddie! You’re here,” Teeny said, sounding surprised when he saw her standing there. “Where are Logan and the others?” he asked.
“They couldn’t make it,” Will said.
“Did you ask Suchita and Ann?” Madison asked.
Will shrugged. “Yeah. ’Course.”
“So they’re coming?” Teeny asked, sounding even more surprised.
“Nah,” Will said. “Maddie’s the only girl.”
Madison realized that she was the only one who had been invited for the night. Although it felt awkward to be the only girl, there was another part of her, deep inside, that was thrilled to be the center of the boys’ attention. She’d never had that happen before—not like this.
The next few mini-golf shots were even better. The third hole required a straight shot at a bucking bronco with a cowboy on its back. The fourth hole had a sequence of large bumps on an imaginary racetrack for cars. And the fifth hole, unlike the others, was mostly underground. Madison could see the ball traveling through a series of Lucite tunnels. She managed to get a par four on that hole—one stroke better than either Will or Teeny.
Dad and Stephanie stayed behind Madison, Teeny, and Will, but Madison turned around at one point and saw them laughing together. Teeny’s mom and Will’s grandparents were laughing, too.
“You know, your dad and mom are really nice,” Will said.
“No doubt,” Teeny said.
“Except that’s not my mom,” Madison said quickly. “She’s my stepmom.”
“Oh. Sorry,” Will corrected himself. “Stepmom.”
“What? Does she make you clean out fireplaces, like Cinderella?” Teeny asked playfully.
“Yeah,” Will joked. “Where are your wicked stepsisters?”
Madison faked an over-the-top laugh. “Ha-ha-ha! Wanna see my crystal slipper?”
Will and Teeny laughed and then took off for the sixth hole, leaving Madison a few steps behind. Madison tried not to let their swift departure bother her. She focused on the game again as best she could. She teamed up with Dad and Stephanie for a few holes.
Hole six had a water hazard: a pond behind a large turtle. Madison wondered what would happen if all the loggerhead turtles were to head there instead of to the beach. She aced the hole. The remaining nine holes got Madison’s nerves frazzled, but she tried her best to appear calm and knowledgeable. After all, this was only miniature golf.
The remainder of the mini-golf evening turned into a bit of a blur. The adults (following not so closely behind) seemed to be having as good a time as the kids. Dad was a big hit, telling a whole catalog of his bad jokes.
“What’s a good place to take golf clubs after hours?” Dad asked, and then quickly slapped his knee (really, his knee) and said, “A tee party! Get it?”
Grandpa Ralph thought that was just hysterical.
Madison tried to pretend she didn’t know any of them. She raced along to catch up with the boys.
One by one, the three campers conquered other obstacles along the course, from the Statue of Liberty replica to the super coaster with 700 actual wooden pieces and a five-foot ball drop. There was a rocket ship ready to blast off—golf balls and all—and a castle created to look like a medieval fortress, complete with knights and ladies and an enormous catapult.
It really seemed, as they walked along, that anything—and everything—was possible in the outlandish world of Riverside Mini-Golf.
Madison only hoped that her adventure would continue off the mini-golf course, too—for a long, long time.
Chapter 17
MADISON SAT AND COUNTED shadows on the ceiling, but her eyelids would not close. She had many different things bouncing around inside her brain at the same time.
First there were Dad and Stephanie’s arguments.
Then there was the upcoming hatchling night.
And of course there was the flip-flop-flipping crush on Will.
Madison pulled out her best companion: her laptop. Thanks to Dad’s help, the laptop was working again.
She clicked open her e-mailbox. Aimee had sent her an e-mail with an attachment. It was a copy of some article that had just appeared in the Far Hills newspaper. Madison opened that file and read it first, with great interest.
The Far Hills Gazette
TUESDAY, AUGUST 17
FAR HILLS, NY
Weather today: Patchy clouds, humid, high 80s
The Last Ballet by R. J. Westerlybrook
Everyone in the room at 274 Goethe Avenue spoke in hushed tones and watched a Ecatarina Elaine Rudofsky, formerly of Kazakhstan, led the girls in a short routine.
The elderly ballerina standing at the front of the room looked wistful as she bowed and bent from the waist. She twisted her arms up into the air and looked off into the distance, chest heaving with emotion. All girl sin the room, themselves dressed in pink-and-white floral prints, wiped away tears.
This month, Far Hills celebrates twenty years of the Madame Elaine Dance Studio. A popular school for young girls at the beginning, middle, and advanced stages of their ballet experience, Madame Elaine’s has been a primary destination for ballerinas from all over Far Hills and the surrounding areas. This year, however, Madame Elaine has decided to close her doors. Sources say a new ballet instructor may take over part of the old business and revamp the facilities to welcome new students. But the elderly ballerina finds that it is time to retire.
“I don’t know what we will do without her,” said Rayna Roberts, a ballet student of Madame Elaine’s for more than two years and a Far Hills middle-schooler.
Madame Elaine, who has more than 112 students in her many groups, has her eye on the future, naming students she believes are certain to have a rich life on and off the stage—no matter what the fate of the studio may be.
“I was only just telling one of my best students, Aimee Gillespie, to practice something a hundred times. Not because I believe that practice makes perfect, but because I believe that the heart of good dance comes from the little movements inside and out, done over and over.”
(Continued 2C)
Madison turned back to Aimee’s latest blog en
try. It had been posted the night before, along with the short newspaper article.
08-17
So u probably read the article about my dance teacher’s studio since I e-mailed it to all of u. I cried ALL last nite. “>( Whatamigonnado?
Some of the other students think someone might take over the studio—they should!—but I don’t believe it. NO one can take over for Madame Elaine. It’s so weird b/c she was hard on me this yr. She was real picky about my dancing and my legwork but now—no one will be as good a teacher as her. Mom thinks they’re changing the space into a beauty salon or something! She heard that from Olga, that real estate broker who lives down the st. from us. That can’t be true, can it?
What if i have to go to Westlake or some other town to dance? I wish I knew what was REALLY happening. Madame Elaine is having this HUGE party for us all next wk. after the performances. She says we’ll all be pleasantly surprised by the plan for the studio. Whatever that means. I’m not pleasantly anything right now. You know it’s a bad scene when my brothers are being all nice to me about it. Last nite Roger was here for dinner & he brought me daisies!!! OMG!!! Billy, Dean, and Doug were all letting me watch whatever I wanted on TV. They NEVER do that. Mom and Dad must have told them to be nice to me. I know u guys would be sooooo supportive.
What will i do if I don’t have my dance classes???
I hope things are better in the other parts of the universe like CA, FL, and England. Nobody posted in the blog yesterday so everyone better post right now. I could use sum cheering up pleez.
CUL8R … xox
p.s.: don’t forget that when u all get back u have 2 come over & watch the video of me performing, ok?
Madison didn’t hesitate after reading Aimee’s e-mail. She got up off her bed, turned on the light, and slipped down the hallway.
Stephanie was sitting in the living room with a book. Dad was near her with his BlackBerry, poking at the buttons. Some kind of classical music was on the stereo—maybe Mozart. Or was it Beethoven? Madison always heard classical tunes playing at Dad’s apartment, and she was beginning to be able to tell one composer from another.