“He just couldn’t understand my point,” Carla said, deadpan. “Don’t worry about it; this one’s on me.”
The waitress eyed Carla and picked up the cup, plate, and knife. “Enjoy,” was all she said as she swept away.
“What are YOU doing here?” Carla and Sandra said almost in unison. Sandra added a nervous laugh and reached slowly for the cup of coffee.
“You first,” Carla said, and she took a sip of her coffee. Too hot, but good and strong. Just what she needed.
“Well … I suppose that you think that Frank and I are … a couple,” Sandra said slowly, both hands around the cup. “And we were, but somewhere along the way ‘couple’ sort of turned into ‘people who thought they knew each other’. We were just together at the same time, in the same place. Neither one of us was having much fun. We didn’t really know how to say ‘goodbye’ to each other. So along comes this guy in a chat room on the Internet. He was exciting; Frank is … well … conventional, and you know he’s a junior and I’m a senior. Oh, he’s a nice guy and all that, but … well … you know.”
Carla didn’t answer. She conjured that image of Frank in a tux, this time with a yellow dress shirt. No, lime green. And her in a paler strapless Empire gown to match and to make her look taller.
“So to make a long story short, I let slip that I lived in Niotaka, and turns out he lives here in Ft. Fremont, and he asked me to meet him. I thought he was about 18 or 19, but turns out he’s … well … I suppose 30 or 40. I don’t know. And he didn’t even bother to take off his wedding ring today!” Sandra’s eyes filled with tears, and one slowly trickled down her cheek. “I think he was about to drag me off for God knows what, when I saw you come in. He told me not to scream or say anything, because he knew where I lived, or something like that. I didn’t believe him, but you never know. Anyway, about then you were behind him with that knife … Where’d you learn that trick, anyway?”
Carla snorted. “Too much TV, Sandra. I’m no Chuck Norris, but I’ll do what I have to do.”
“Well. Thanks. I didn’t expect that. I owe you one.”
Carla smiled for the first time. It did seem a little unexpected for her to save Snooty Sandra’s life, didn’t it? She looked out the window. “You drive over here?”
“Yes. I don’t even think that sleaze ball has a car. I saw him hotfooting it down the highway after you …”
“Well, maybe you can give me a ride back to Niotaka.” And, omitting only the part about the baggie of drugs, she told Sandra about her flying trip to Ft. Fremont with Marvelous Marv.
Sandra’s eyes were wide as Carla went through the story, and when Carla finished, Sandra reached across the table and touched her hand.
“Carla, I don’t know what to say. I really underestimated you. I thought you were just a fluff ball. I’m sorry that I didn’t …”
Carla sighed. “Yeah, well, deep down inside, I really am just a cream puff.”
“Cream puffs don’t pull steak knives on creeps.”
“I don’t know what all you’ve heard about me, but probably only half … make that about 10 percent … is true, if that. Look at me. I’m the one that they’d yell at to stand up when I’m on my feet, next to my desk about to give a report. I look like a fireplug with legs. I am NOT the fighting type, believe me, and girls my size try not to yank too many chains.”
“I bet. Carla, I really appreciate your standing up for me when I needed it and probably didn’t deserve it. Thanks. I mean that.”
“It’s all right. Stuff happens. I understand.” She leaned back in the booth and took another sip of coffee and eyed Sandra. “One more thing. Just what does ‘bolilla’ mean?”
“Oh. That. White bread. You can get big loaves of bread in Mexico and I suppose elsewhere, and they’re called ‘bolillos’.
“White bread? You called me ‘white bread’ the other day?”
“Oh, Carla, I’m sorry about that. Really sorry. It’s not as bad as it sounds, but …”
Carla chuckled. “’Bolilla’. However, I guess I need to make up my mind that I’m a half-and-half and get used to it, huh? Hey, you about finished with that coffee?”
“I’m done. Let’s get out of here.”
“Right. Like I said, this one’s on me. I’m … ah, rich today.” Carla pulled the twenty out of her pocket and waved it.
“Okay; tip’s on me,” Sandra answered.
* * *
Sandra didn’t say a word when they passed the intersection where Marv’s car had left the road; they could see a half-dozen or more cars and emergency vehicles parked along the side road and a fire truck slowly pulling through the field, spraying blackened areas of smoldering grass about an acre in size. Carla glanced across the field but could not see the car and realized how lucky she was that the car had not flipped but somehow had just slid across the grassy field, so far that she could just see the brushy area that bordered the creek, over a quarter-mile distant.
Sandra seemed to drive almost in slow motion in contrast to the high-speed trip that Carla had just had, and this time Carla settled back and enjoyed the scenery, even after the obvious effect of early-November freezes on Kansas cow pastures. They were within a few miles of home when Sandra turned to Carla suddenly.
“Carla, Frank is all yours. If you want him. I’m not going back on the Internet again to look for someone, but I’m not going to pretend that we’re a couple when we’re not. I think he kind of likes you, anyway.”
Carla looked at Sandra in disbelief. “And you’re assuming that I’m interested in Frank?”
“Not really, although it was becoming obvious that Frank was sort of interested in you. I’m just saying that it’s time for Frank and me to move on. You know? Time to turn the page.”
Carla didn’t say anything until they could see the grain elevator at the edge of Niotaka in the distance. “Hey, Sandra. How’d you like to meet a radio star named Bob?” And she giggled. “I’m sure that I can hook you up. No problem.”
Chapter Seventeen
Carla’s stomach growled as Sandra pulled up in front of Carla’s house, and she realized that it was only a little past noon. The morning had seemed like a lifetime to her, but there was still some unfinished business hanging. She needed to track down Justin and Buck and talk to them about the conversation between T. J. and Jace that she’d overheard; she needed to deal with her absences from school; she needed to track down that teacher whom she’d run into and … well, scratch that for now. She’d probably run into him soon enough, and no, she wouldn’t be kissing his finger when she did.
Sandra impulsively leaned across the car seat and gave Carla a hug and kiss on her cheek. “Thanks for everything, Carla. Like I said, I really owe you one. See you later?”
“Yeah, thanks for the ride. I’ll probably get something to eat and head back for the last two periods. I can’t really afford to miss algebra class.”
“I know what you mean. Um … I’ll have a little freedom talk with Frank when I see him.”
Carla pushed the car door open. “Don’t you dare say anything about me to him. Promise?”
“All right, all right. You’re on your own with him.”
Carla leaned back into the car. “But I’ll put in a good word about you with Bob!” She slammed the door before Sandra could answer and skipped up the sidewalk and through her front door, pausing to wave at Sandra before she drove away.
The door was unlocked, and she pushed it open cautiously. “Pop?”
“In the kitchen,” a voice floated into the living room. “What are you doing home? Want a sandwich? I got all the fixings out and I’m making myself one.”
“Um … sure.” Her stomach growled again. “The question is, what are YOU doing home at this time of day?” She dropped her backpack onto the sofa and walked into the kitchen.
“Some kind of problem with the water at work. They actually gave us an extra hour off, with pay, so I decided to come home and get something different to eat beside
s cafeteria food.”
“Yeah, I can relate to that.”
“The real question is, what are YOU doing home, Carla? They don’t give you that much time to eat out, do they?”
Carla accepted the thick ham sandwich that her father handed her on a plate, along with a handful of potato chips, and sat at the table. She took a preliminary bite and wiped excess mustard from her upper lip. “Pop, I guess you can say that I had a little adventure today.” And she told her father much the same story that she’d told Sandra, also omitting any mention of drugs or the car wrecking and burning or the knife at the neck of the man and in general making it sound mostly like a joyride with a buddy.
“And that’s it? You just happened to run into Sandra supposedly selling yearbook ads at the café?”
“Yep, and then she gave me a ride home. Pretty silly of her trying to hook up with someone she’d only met online, huh?”
“Yeah, and don’t you ever try that, or you’ll be grounded until you’re 21, my darling daughter.”
“No way, Pop. I think I may have one good potential around here. Sandra’s dumping her old boyfriend, and I think he likes me.”
“Yeah, well, you’d better calm down, or you’ll scare him off, don’t you think?”
She considered the question. “I don’t think so. Although he’s sorta the quiet kind. Not really Sandra’s type at all. I don’t know how they ever hooked up in the first place.”
“Speaking of hooking up … you know it’s not the right thing to do to skip school and hook up and run off with some dude that you barely know. Right?”
She sighed. Lecture time. Here it comes.
“Of course you do, Carla. I don’t need to tell you that running away from your problems is ever the right answer, and I know you’ll go back to school and deal with them. I think you learned a valuable lesson today. In fact, I’m give you a ride back to school as soon as you finish eating, and I’ll even write an excuse … THIS time only … so you won’t have to deal with more than you need to today. In fact, if you want me to come in and talk to that teacher who insulted you and me by saying that I drink …”
“No, Pop. I’ll take care of that one. I’ll just track him down and apologize for running into him. Turn on the old charm and all that. Works every time, ya know?” No finger kissing. But it would certainly be better if she worked out things with him, and maybe some others.
“You’re just like your mother when it comes to that talent. And maybe your father, too, in some ways. I guess I’m not the best father to his daughter, either. I never told you … back in the day I raced a guy and won. It was just about like in American Graffiti; I even had a ’56 Chevy, too, although the other guy’s car was a ’51 Merc that turned over just like a big old turtle at the end of the race. He wasn’t hurt, and we all turned his car back over and shook hands and went home. He had a little explaining to do about the bashed-in top on his car … I think he convinced his father that all his friends tried to stand on it at the same time, or something like that. Anyway, I hope you’re done with adventures and ready to take some responsibility for yourself, Carla.”
Carla just nodded. This was not what she’d expected; maybe groundation wasn’t in her future after all?
“Something else I need to tell you. I don’t think it will ever come up, but your mother had some relatives … cousins, I think … in prison for selling drugs. I don’t know if they got out or what, but I don’t expect ever to see them.”
“Oh, my, I hope not. Druggies in the family, Pop? What scumbags.” She remembered the feel of the bags under the seat and shuddered. With any luck they’d gone up in smoke with the rest of the Corvette, and the cops had found only the bag on Marv.
“Just something to think about, Carla. And don’t start thinking that everyone on your mother’s side of the family is bad, either.”
“Don’t worry about me getting into that sort of thing. Never happen.” Again, she thought. Once, this morning, was enough to last for a lifetime. She avoided the reference to her mother’s side of the family.
“Carla, you know I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I have left.” He reached across the table and gently caressed her hair. “I just want you to think before you go and do something dumb like getting in a fast car with some jerk again. Promise?”
“All right, Pop. I’ll think. Maybe I’ll blow him off, too.”
He shook his head. “You’d better do more than just think, mija.”
She laughed. “You know what I mean. I’ll try to do better.” She looked at the clock over his shoulder and gulped down the last bite of her sandwich and washed it down with a quick slurp of chocolate milk. “How about that note now and a quick ride to school?”
* * *
Lunch was still in session when she returned to school, and she decided to check out the action in the cafeteria before she headed for her algebra class. The first person who spotted her was Justin, and he waved her over to the seat in front of him.
“Have a nice day off, did you?” He seemed to be struggling with a slice of gooey, sausage pizza, and the words were a little muffled. He flicked the wedge of pizza in an effort to consolidate several strings of congealing cheese between his mouth and the slice, and a couple of gobs of sausage flew off and actually bounced on the table right next to her arm.
“Eww. You trying for a food fight or something? Yes, it was a very productive time. Thanks for asking. Film at eleven. Not!”
“Okay, I can take a hint. But I’m going to need for you to pencil in a little time for me, too, so you can help me with my American History project. If you can, that is.”
She fixed him with her usual “What now?” gaze. “First T. J., and now you, Justin. What’s with you sports stars – you all getting helpless? Don’t you even open a book any more?”
He sighed. “Listen, Carla, Brady is getting more and more weird. I think he’s talking about make-believe pets now. You should have been there today; it was like a puppet show. He was waving his arms around and had one hand talking to another, and then the last thing he said today before the bell rang was ‘Projects are definitely due next Friday.’ I need that class in order to be able to play basketball; know what I mean? C’mon. Help a brother out here. In fact, if you’re still tutoring before school, I can get you more than just T. J. and me. And we might just chip in for lunch and stuff.”
Carla reeled her memory back to the conversation that she’d heard between T. J. and Jace. Justin would be the perfect person to have around if T. J. started anything in the morning. “Lunch, huh? How about for a week in advance; in other words, if you had three guys chip in for five days of lunch after five tutoring sessions in the morning, it wouldn’t cost you more than a couple of bucks apiece. Right?”
“Something like that. Okay?”
She sighed and looked at her knees. “Okay, deal, but no jokes about the midget taking on half the basketball team and getting hooked up with some cash, all right?”
Justin spread his hands in mock horror. “Oh, no, no, no. Never happen. We’re all gentlemen, ya know?”
“Right. If you say so. Okay, then, you know the time and place. Be there tomorrow, and pick your pockets by Friday. Let’s say … three guys, five days, fifteen bucks. Four guys, twenty bucks. Dollar a dude a day. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
The five-minute bell rang, and she stood. Miranda and the followers were visible past Justin on the other side of the cafeteria, and they were headed in their direction.
“Don’t look now, Justin, but trouble is on its way.”
Justin looked. And laughed. “Man, those chicks have been in everyone’s business lately. Tell you what – no charge, I’ll head ‘em off and deal with them. You take off. No problem. I still got your back.”
“All right. Thanks. See ya tomorrow morning. Seven-ten.” She tossed another look in their direction and skipped out the door.
* * *
Both algebra and consumer ed classes were a c
rashing bore. Even the guy who’d asked her out earlier in the day avoided her in consumer ed, and it was a relief to be out of school and at work, occupied with cutting commercials and trying to make them fit into 30- and 60-second times. What were the continuity writers thinking? Maybe she should try her hand at writing spots; she’d show them.
As she emerged from the studio, Bob came around the corner pulling on a jacket and stopped. “You up for some Subway? It’s past 6:30.”
She thought of the ham sandwich she’d had at noon but nodded. “Sure, but this one’s on me this time.”
“Okay, I fly, you buy.”
“Deal. Let me file these and get my coat and we’re outta here.”
Tuna fish would be different enough, she decided at the restaurant. On wheat bread. No bolillo for her tonight.
The room was almost empty, with only two older couples in the room, and she decided that the time was right for a heart-to-heart talk with Bob. “So, Bob. You got a steady girlfriend stashed away that you’re not telling me about?”
He almost choked on his sandwich. “What?”
She laughed. “I’m kidding. You never talk about anyone.”
“Oh. Well, no. I don’t have time or a lot of money to spend on some girl. College guys aren’t rich, and they certainly don’t have a lot of cash to throw around.”
“Oh, come on. There’s always room in your life for a certain someone.”
He gave her a funny look. “Meaning …”
“Well, it’s not me, in case you think I’m coming on to you. I don’t date people I work with.” She waved her sandwich under her nose as if it were a microphone. “News flash – midget goes out with radio star, trades him for a bag of chips. Film at eleven.”
Bob shook his head. “You know, you’re something else. If it wasn’t for your entertainment value, I’d trade YOU in for a Ho-Ho.”
“Watch your mouth, radio star. But I mean it. Going out for a sandwich is one thing. Dating is another. You know what I mean?”
“Sure, whatever. Not such a good idea.”
“On the other hand … let me see if I can guess your type of girl. How about tall, dark-headed, pretty, sort of elegant …”
High School 2 - Diversity - The Clash Page 8