Kate the Great, Except When She's Not

by Suzy Becker

  “Does that sound okay?” Mrs. Block looks at the others and then at me. I nod.

  Nora does not have a note for me on the bus. (Or a hello. Or eye contact.) But I am not going to let it ruin my golden star-key day.

  My mom is at the island when I walk in the kitchen door. “What’re you doing here?” I say.

  “I live here?” She swats the top of my head with a piece of mail. “How ’bout, ‘Mom, what a great surprise! So nice to see you!’? Dad’s stuck in a meeting, and there was nothing keeping me at the office.”

  I put the star and the key on the counter. “Gene put my name in for the gold star, and the other one is from the newspaper for my self-portrait.”

  “Ahh! A judge who knows noses.” My mom squeezes me tight.

  “What’s it for?” Fern asks, reaching for the key.

  “Probably an indoor swimming pool with a toy-candy-pet shop,” my mom answers. Fern’s eyes get super-big. “Everybody in the car! Warm apple dumplings on the way to soccer practice—we’re celebrating!”

  The next morning, there is an envelope on my bus seat. From Nora, I’m sure. I open it loudly.

  We watch Nora walk into the building, and then I show Brooke the note. “For twenty-five dollars? I’d do it,” Brooke says. “Not that she asked me. Besides, I can’t. We’re going to the shore.”

  “It feels weird. It says right there that we’re not friends, but it doesn’t say anything about maybe being friends again,” I say. “We’ll have to practice at least once over the weekend. And have you ever heard of the VIP shoppers’ lounge?”

  “I hate shopping,” Brooke says. “You don’t have to answer right away. Nora never does.”

  I put the note in the front pocket of my backpack and I don’t think about it again.

  “I’m bracing myself for Discovery Day,” I say.

  Brooke does her best Rigoberta head wrap at her locker and smiles. “It’s almost over, Cristobal.”

  I go last. There were a lot of things I couldn’t say: Obviously I, Christopher Columbus, did not discover America.

  I, Kate, discovered a lot about Christopher Columbus, and what it feels like to be an outsider, but those weren’t things Columbus would say.

  “I discovered the trade winds in the Atlantic Ocean, and that discovery has helped sailors ever since,” I say. It doesn’t seem like much compared to America, so I keep going. “I guess I also discovered that history changes. For almost two hundred years, there were parades in my honor. Now I’m barnacles on a boat bottom.”

  Mrs. Block smiles. “History is a story, Admiral Colon, and stories have a lot to do with point of view.”

  “Can we have our snacks as ourselves, please?” I ask. And Mrs. Block nods.

  “Did you write to Nora?” Brooke asks on our way out to the bus circle.

  “I’m going to tell her I have to talk to my mom first. I don’t want to write something and then have to wonder whether she read it … again.”

  I sit behind Nora and talk to the back of her head. “I have to ask my parents,” I say. “It isn’t a yes or a no.”

  “Yes, it’s not,” she mutters, so I know she heard.

  Five minutes after I get home, my mom and Fern walk in the door.

  “Mom, Nora’s mother wants me and Nora—”

  “Nora and me …”

  “Mom, please! She wants Nora and me to play duets at the mall on Monday. And she’ll pay us twenty-five dollars.” I show her the note.

  “Tricky,” my mom says. “Kate, you know you two were friends, whether you agree to play or not. What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not sure about your first hand. The chance to be friends—that part isn’t really clear, is it?” my mom says. “And as for your other hand, it sounds like Mrs. Klein already thinks you are friends, and I’m sure she has an entertainment budget, but your feelings are more important than either of those facts, Kate. You should do what feels right.

  “I can’t imagine being in that mall one second longer than I have to be,” Mom says. “I’ll give her mom a call.”

  “I want to talk to Nora after,” I say as I hand my mom the phone. “She has to talk to me. I absolutely won’t do it if she’s not talking to me.”

  Finally my mom hands me the phone and yells down the hall, “Robin! Adam! Fern! Dinner’s ready!”

  “I am only doing this if you’re talking to me,” I say to Nora.

  “Of course, Kate. I’m really looking forward to it! See you tomorrow, then!”

  Nora’s mom drops her off after lunch on Saturday. We go up to my room with the Easy Duets book her mom bought. Rocky follows us. Nora is not talking to me, so I talk to Rocky. “Of course, Kate. I’m really looking forward to it!”

  “My mother was standing right there,” Nora says.

  Nora and I choose five duets for a total of ten minutes’ playing time.

  “I’m ready to go home now,” Nora announces after we play the fifth one for the third time.

  “You two were awfully quiet,” my mom says as soon as Nora’s out the door. “How did it go?”

  “Fine, once you accept the fact that she can’t keep the beat. I guess playing duets is like talking in a way. And listening.”

  I am waiting outside for Nora and Mrs. Klein. My mom says, “You look adorable.”

  “Adorable, Mom?! In this outfit? All the other bands get to wear pants and short-sleeve shirts,” I say.

  She laughs as I shuffle down the walk to Mrs. Klein’s car.

  Mrs. Klein asks a million questions on the ride. I am dreaming of ye olde silent treatment days. “You should have a very nice audience,” she says when she finally runs out of questions. “There were about twenty people in the lounge when we left.”

  1:00 We begin playing at Location A.

  1:03 VIP #6 puts earbuds in.

  1:04 VIP #4 requests TV remote and turns TV on.

  1:06 We move to Location B.

  1:10 VIP #6 leaves.

  1:11 VIP #2 asks if we take requests.

  1:13 I want to ask VIPs #3 and #5 if they take requests, like BE QUIET!

  1:15 The clothes rack of size 2 pants for VIP #5 catches Nora’s flute.

  It takes all my strength to say to Nora, “You have to get off of me and show me where the nice bathroom is or I may wet my pants.” And she does.

  Nobody seems to mind—or notice, for that matter—when we take a break.

  1:25 We try all the lotion samples in the bathroom.

  1:30 We begin playing again at Location B.

  1:32 New VIP #8 enters and takes #6’s spot.

  1:35 VIP #8 inquires about a scent-free VIP club.

  1:37 Mrs. Klein gives us each $25, plus $20 for pizza.

  “How did the duets go, Champ?” my dad asks at dinner. “That’s not blood on your shirt I’m looking at.”

  “Funny, Dad. It’s pizza,” I say, and I list all the positives.

  “We’ll have to have Nora over more often,” my dad says.

  “She doesn’t want to be anybody’s project,” I remind him.

  “Nora is your friend, not your best friend. She’s also a neighbor, and you know her dad’s away, plus her mom works a lot. You might think about having her over more often. As a friend. Not a project.”

  There is an envelope sitting next to Nora the next morning. I guess we’re back to the silent treatment. Nora shoves the envelope toward the end of the bus seat as I walk by.

  She moves her backpack so I can sit down.

  I open the envelope. “It’s from my mother,” Nora says.

  “I actually had fun,” I say.

  “Yeah,” she says while she is reading. Reading makes me carsick, so I just slide down, put my knees up against the seat in front, and pretend to relax.

  Brooke acts like it’s normal when Nora and I get off the bus together. “How were the duets?” she asks. Nora and I turn to each other and burst out laughing.

  Brooke is laughing by the time VIP #6 puts her earbuds in, and we
score a snort when the clothing rack knocks us over.

  Nora says “See you” when she heads to her locker.

  “See you at lunch,” Brooke says. “Hey, why don’t you sit with us?”

  I think Brooke meant “You should sit with us!” But Nora answers like it’s a real question: “I like where I sit.” Brooke looks surprised. Nora adds, “Nothing against you.”

  At the closing ceremony, Mrs. Staughton takes over. “Fall Fun Day is just a few days away. We are coming to the end of our first voyage. I would like you to close your eyes and think back to where we started six weeks ago.

  “When I ask you to open them again, I would like each of you to share one thing you have learned along the way.”

  Brooke’s mother is leaning against her car waiting for us. The leaves are drifting down around her like snow. “I have your bacon costume, Kate!” she says as soon as we’re close enough. And she holds it up.

  “Hide that!” Brooke says.

  “Happy early birthday!” Mrs. Johnson says.

  I hug her. “My mom has cupcakes and the banana bread covered.” Our moms have an arrangement—Brooke’s mom can’t cook, and my mom can’t sew. I’ve gotten three excellent costumes out of the deal.

  “Brooke’s egg still needs a little work. Make sure you try this on before the costume parade on Saturday, just in case.”

  I try it on the second I get home. “Sizzlin’!” my dad says.

  Robin says, “Cute,” like it’s a new pair of pants or something. She goes back to setting the table.

  “Kate, I’ll be glad when your party is over!” My dad has been spending more and more time in the basement and leaving more and more weird stuff all over the house.

  “Rob, do you have any advice or anything—it’s my first slumber party,” I ask.

  She taps her fork on the table. “Sleep.”

  “Seriously?”

  “It’s your party, and you have to be, you know, ‘on,’ festive, the next day, too,” she says.

  “I meant fun things—games and stuff like that,” I say.

  “We always played Truth or Dare. And somebody’s underwear has to end up in the freezer.”

  My mom walks in. “Kids are still doing that? It used to be the first person who fell asleep. What about sticking somebody’s hand in warm water while they’re sleeping?”

  “It’s supposed to make them wet the bed, but it never works,” Robin says.

  “No shaving cream, hear me, Kate?” Mom says, and walks out again.

  “Have you ever played Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board?” Robin asks. “Maybe we can get Mom and Dad to play after dinner.”

  I try very hard to get a good night’s sleep before my sleepover.

  “Sheesh! Feels more like Summer Fun Day!” Mrs. Staughton says. She is already down to her short sleeves.

  The inflatable fun is all set up. Mrs. Hallberg is helping Lily, Elsa, and Faith fill the duck pond over by the jumpy house. Allie and Heather are planting the beanbag toss in front of the shady spot Brooke and I were considering for our bake-sale table. We move our table in front of the main entrance.

  Eliza and Nora put their face-painting table right next to us.

  Fern and Mom are the first Fall Fun Day guests to arrive. My mom takes pictures with her real camera, and Fern runs straight to the face-painting table. “Balloons, please,” she says.

  “Oh, phew. Balloons are easy,” Nora says.

  “Don’t you want a … ?” Brooke starts to say, leafing through their design book. Nora glares at her.

  Nora paints three balloons and holds the mirror up. “More, please,” Fern says.

  Nora paints three more on the other cheek and shows Fern. “More, please.” Nora looks at me, and I shrug. Nora paints three balloons on Fern’s forehead and gets another “More, please.”

  My mom leans in. “Nine is enough, Fern-o. I think I see your friend Jack in line at the duck pond—why don’t we give that a try?”

  Ten minutes later, Fern drops a handful of duck-pond prizes—plastic bugs, stickers, and a ring—on the bake-sale table. “I wanted to win a big prize,” Fern says.

  “Let’s give everybody else a chance. How about the jumpy house?” my mom says. “Fern was afraid to go while Mrs. Staughton was in there cooling off.”

  “Oh, snap!” Nora says. “How about a witch instead of a frog?” Her five-year-old nods. Nora proceeds to paint his whole face.

  His mother asks, “Does this come off with soap and water?”

  Nora looks at Eliza. Eliza says, “I think so. Definitely.”

  Nora comes over to ask me if we can trade places. “You’re more of an artist.”

  “I’m actually not very good at face painting,” I tell her.

  “Really?”

  “You don’t have to look so shocked, Nora,” I say.

  Brooke offers to ask her mother, and Mrs. Johnson takes over face painting. Meanwhile, my mom is talking to Nora’s mom over by the duck pond. Fern is in line again. She does not win the big prize. She goes for another and its tail bobs just out of reach.

  The next kid in line follows Fern into the “pond,” then four more after him. They are all turning and tossing ducks until there are practically none left in the pond.

  Mrs. Staughton blows her whistle. “This is a DUCK POND, not a swimming pool.” Except everyone can see the opposite is true.

  Mr. Hallberg sticks his hand in the pool. “Nice and cool in there.”

  I ask Mrs. Staughton to blow her whistle again so we can begin our first cupcake walk.

  “When the music starts, you all walk in a circle around the plates, like musical chairs. And when the music stops, you stop. If you’re standing closest to plate number one, you get to pick your cupcake first. Number two, second …” Brooke holds up the box of prize cupcakes. “Everybody ready?” I turn on the music and count to forty-seven.

  “Next time, don’t mention musical chairs,” Brooke says.

  The parents help the kids out of their cupcake pants into the duck-pond-wading-pool. There are two more incident-free cupcake walks, and then Mrs. Staughton blows her whistle again. It is time for the costume parade.

  Mr. Hallberg herds everybody over to the pool-pond.

  “For those of you who don’t know me, I am Marian Staughton, Pod 429’s new leader. On behalf of Pod 429, thank you all for coming to our Fall Fun Day. A little history—Fall Fun Day was actually started in honor of another F-word. Can anybody guess?”

  “Our founder, Helen Seidlar. Now, as a new leader, I decided I would like to begin a new tradition today. I have a small award I would like to present to the Guide who embodies Dr. Seidlar’s spirit—a woman who be-lieved that the two most important things you can do in this life are to stand up for yourself and to stand up for others. Kate Geller, will you please come forward?”

  “I am pinning this on upside down because, in the inspirational words of Dr. Seidlar, ‘A rainbow upside down is a smile right side up.’ ”

  I admit, I like Mrs. Staughton better now. She actually gave me an award for disagreeing with her. Most grown-ups find that annoying.

  “Let the parade begin!” Mrs. Staughton says, too loudly again, into the microphone. But that is when a large piece of toast falls down.

  “Nora fainted!” Brooke says, kneeling down beside her. Mrs. Klein makes her way over. Mr. Hallberg follows her with a bottle of water.

  Mrs. Staughton says, “Don’t crowd her!” as she is rummaging through her fanny pack. “Smelling salts, coming through!” Everyone moves out of the smelling salts’ way.

  “I’m fine,” Nora says, and stands up by herself.

  “I’m going to take her home,” Mrs. Klein says to Mrs. Staughton.

  “But she’s still coming to my birthday party, right?” blurts the bacon.

  “Kate, her mother will sort this out.” My mom puts her arm around me.

  “I’ll let you know how she’s doing,” Mrs. Klein says.

  “Bacon, eggs,
and toast! Very clever!” Mr. Hallberg says.

  I look at Brooke in her egg costume and say, “Wait, how did Nora know what we were going to be?”

  Everyone arrives for my party at once. I have to admit, it is pretty perfect, with the car headlights shining behind them through the fog and mist.

  Once the jumble of bags (gift, overnight, and sleeping) gets organized, Mom and Robin serve the pizza. My dad brings Fern down in her pajamas, and she climbs into Hui Zong’s lap.

  “Did you hear from Nora?” Eliza asks. “Is she coming?”

  “Her mom is going to bring her over in the morning,” my mom answers. Eliza and Brooke groan.

  “Evening, girls! When you’re ready, I’d like to show you your accommodations.”

  He opens the basement door, and the nine of us huddle on the top three stairs. “Watch your step. I’ve been meaning to fix these.” He shines his flashlight down on a rat. Lily screams. “Dead as a dormouse,” my dad says, and picks it up. “Hold this, will you?” Elsa refuses, so he stuffs the rat in his flannel shirt pocket.

  “Careful now,” Dad says at the bottom of the stairs. He shines his light on the corner of the basement. “That bed there is very comfortable. Someone like to try it?” Faith starts laughing and goes over. “Give it a sit!” A skeleton’s arm shoots out from under the blanket and Faith jumps. Allie screams. “Sorry, sir,” he apologizes to the arm. “I forgot the gentleman requested a late checkout.”

  My dad shines the flashlight straight ahead. “Guest privileges—we just ask that you leave everything as you found it.”