Appearance trumped quality of life once again. “I’m going to lie down.” I trudged off to my room closing the door slowly and quietly so it wouldn’t resonate in my already throbbing head. I climbed into my bed. Mom had obviously remade it. She had flipped my comforter while I was at school. It was pink floral on one side and tan on the other. I didn’t really care for pink, but my mom did, and that’s all that mattered in our house.
We played this constant game of flipping it to the side each of us preferred. I call it a game, but neither of us got any pleasure out of it. We never said anything about it either. At that moment, my head hurt too much to care what color my bed was.
“Mom: 1, Holly: 0.” I pulled the covers over my head to hide my sensitive eyes from the light and drifted off to sleep.
***
I spent the next school day with my nose in a book again, making a point not to look at anyone or give anyone any idea that I might want to talk to them. Being invisible meant safety for me.
During third-period, my pen busted while taking notes, so on the way to the auditorium I made a detour to the lady’s room to wash my hands. I turned on the faucet, but jerked my hands back when the water started. It was orangey-red—kind of a rusty color.
“Gross!”
I pulled out my hand sanitizer and did the best I could to get the ink off with it and a paper towel. I exited the restroom across the hall from the auditorium and headed for the double doors just as Anthony came up the stairs.
“You’re back. I thought you didn’t want to be in drama.” He opened the door for me.
“I didn’t, but the only other class available was home arts, so I guess I’m stuck.”
“Home arts is a good class. Took it last year for the food. Mrs. Powell can cook and now not only can I make a mean lasagna, I can sew my own curtains too.”
I had to laugh and shake my head as I followed him down the aisle. Anthony seemed to be the kind who didn’t pretend to be more than he was. I liked him already. He sat with the jocks again while I sat alone and pulled out my e-book to read. I didn’t bother to look when I felt someone sit in the seat beside me.
“What you reading?”
I recognized the voice from the day before. When I glanced up, I saw Theo grinning at me, again with that scrutinizing stare. I didn’t want to encourage whatever game he was playing with me.“A book.”
“But what’s it about?”
“A girl and her brothers and sister abandoned by their mom.”
Theo’s nose scrunched. “Sounds sad. Why would you want to read something like that?”
I shrugged and turned my attention back to my book. “That’s life. Not everyone gets a nurturing mother.”
“They should.”
I shrugged again and tried to read, but he was still there and still too close.
“Why are you talking to me?”
“I wanted to thank you.”
I put my Kindle down and looked at him. “Thank me? For what?”
“For noticing me.”
I looked at Theo trying to figure out his angle when Ms. Jones came in.
“Sorry I’m late everyone. I had to go make sure the office knew the water was dirty again. They’re pulling out the water coolers and pushing them out by the fountains. They swear it’s safe to drink after the water clears, but I don’t like it. If any of you feel the need to tell your parents and they feel the need to contact the school board, don’t tell them I said to do it. It’s time to take the school off that old well and switch to public water. But you didn’t hear it from me.”
I sat up and placed my book under my seat, still ignoring Theo. Ms. Jones called out name after name. Everyone answered except Theo. She never called his name. He might be annoying as all get out but, at the moment, I felt sorry for him being ignored again. Even if he was a pain in the butt.
“Ms. Jones,” I raised my hand and spoke just above a whisper. “You missed Theo again.”
“Who?” She looked at me, her head tilted to the side.
“Theo,” I pointed to the boy sitting right beside me.
Ms. Jones shook her head and jumped back. “I’m sorry young man. I…I didn’t see you there. What did you say your name was?” She thumbed through the roster.
He smiled wide, “Theo.”
“Are you new? You’re not on my roll, and you weren’t here yesterday,” Ms. Jones asked, becoming flustered as she turned the pages over and over again.
Was she on something? I felt my forehead wrinkle as my eyes went buggy.
“He was here yesterday. You put us together for the mirroring exercise.”
“I did?”
I nodded up and down very slowly. Mom had known Ms. Jones back in high school. According to Mom, she’d gone off to New York after graduating with dreams of being on Broadway, but she never got beyond understudy and chorus. She came back to teach drama instead. Maybe she’d brought back some sort of substance abuse problem.
“Hmm, you’d think I’d remember that. Well the mind’s the first thing to go,” she shook her head. Ms. Jones pulled a stack of papers from her teacher’s bag and began handing them out. “As many of you know, we always put on a production right before Christmas break. This year, instead of a play we will be doing a Renaissance festival, complete with dinner, swordplay, and entertainment. The whole town will be here, including the mayor.”
She handed me a small stack of papers stapled in the corner. I flipped it open to see examples of costumes, information on food, dance, language and customs. “O…M…G,” I said as I flipped the pages.
“What is it?” Theo leaned in close gazing at the papers.
I looked over at him. “Where’s your copy?”
“She skipped me,” he shook his head and smiled, unearthing his dimples.
Yep—on drugs. “I’ll go get you one.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. She’ll forget to give me a part anyway.” He looked over my shoulder at the pages. “The clothes really didn’t look like that back then. Not for most people anyway.”
I glanced over at him, and caught him staring at me. “What?”
“Still trying to figure out where I’ve seen you before.”
I went back to looking at the handouts.
“So why the OMG?”
“A giant production the whole town will come out to see.” My stomach churned just thinking about it.
“And?”
“I’m not good with crowds or talking to people. I get nervous.”
Theo looked at me with soft, caring eyes. “You’re doing fine talking to me right now.”
Why was he being nice today? Guilt from the day before, or was he still playing me? I rolled my eyes and leaned in closer to whisper, “But you’re one person. Not a whole town gawking at me while I make a fool of myself and my family.”
“It’s a high school play, not network television. You’ll do fine, and I’m sure your parents will be proud of you no matter what.”
I wasn’t so sure.
“But if you hate speaking in front of people so much, what made you sign up for drama?”
“I’m in drama because they messed up my schedule. I would never choose to be here,” I whispered.
I turned my attention back to Ms. Jones. She was calling everyone to join her on the stage.
“We will be studying the parts of the theater until our Renaissance play arrives.” She handed out a second stack of papers with a diagram of a stage and auditorium on it. Again, Ms. Jones skipped Theo.
“Bring a pen. I will give you a tour of the theatre while you fill in the blanks?”
“Will we be tested on this?” asked Anthony, standing with his letterman group.
“No Anthony, you will not be tested. It is for your benefit to know your way around the theatre.”
Once everyone was on stage, Ms. Jones continued. “The entire part of the stage from ceiling to floor is called the stage-house.” She pointed to the walls offstage, “The ladders going up the
wall lead to the catwalk. Look up and you will see the catwalk is a platform for walking above the stage from one side to the other. It is used to move equipment up in the flies or fly-system. The flies are used to hang sets.”
I took notes as quickly as I could, and then it occurred to me there would be no test. I looked up. Theo was no longer with us.
I bent back to look around a large boy beside me—a football player according to his jacket - and saw Theo sitting on risers offstage. How did he get by with not participating? He caught me looking and smiled.
I put my head down and resumed taking notes.
“The light bulb hanging off the wall behind you is called the ghost light. It’s left on 24/7for the ghost.”
The big football player beside me raised his hand. “Ms. Jones? Um…what…what ghost?” He had a serious expression on his face. I bit my lip to hold in a giggle.
Ms. Jones laughed. “It’s just tradition. Like saying, ‘break-a-leg’. You don’t actually want people to break their legs, and there isn’t really a ghost. Now, moving on…”
We took notes until the bell rang. Everyone grabbed their bags from the seats, but Ms. Jones stopped us before we walked out of the auditorium.
“I have monologues. I want them memorized by Monday. Plan on delivering them on stage. I have something special for the best performance.” She pushed through and stood at the door. “The ones in my left hand are for the ladies, and the ones in my right are for the guys.”
I grabbed one without looking at the title and headed to lunch. It was just as I descended the stairs that I remembered I’d left my Kindle under the seat.
I spun around and ran back up the stairs, yanked the auditorium door open and ran down the aisle. I found my e-reader and turned to leave when I saw someone out the corner of my eye. I turned in time to see Theo heading offstage behind the curtain.
What was he still doing up there? I tiptoed up the steps and looked around, but he’d vanished. Whatever he was up to was none of my business. I ran back down the steps and up the aisle to get to the cafeteria before the bell rang.
I sat alone with my lunch tray, reading and crunching on an apple. The sound of trays hitting the table in front of me caused me to look up. Anthony sat in the seat across from me. Beside him was a lanky boy with messy, curly hair.
Anthony nodded towards the guy beside him. “This is Wayne. We run track and cross country together,” Anthony said before picking up a slice of pizza, dipping it in ranch dressing and taking a large bite.
“Oh, that’s…nice.” It sounded like a question rather than a statement.
Anthony chewed, took a bite and then looked over at Wayne. Wayne sat looking at me with a goofy grin on his face until Anthony elbowed him in the side. “Staring’s rude man.” Then Anthony looked at me. “Sorry, Holly. Wayne here lacks social skills.”
We ate in silence until Wayne spoke. “So Holly, what are your thoughts on the universe?”
I hurried and chewed my bite of apple before I choked. “The universe?” I glanced over at Anthony whose face now rested in his hand.
“Yeah, so do you think we have an infinite or finite universe?”
It was then I noticed the braces and the many rubber bands.
“Um…I…What?” I looked back at Anthony. I could feel the deer-in-the-headlights look on my face.
Anthony mouthed without speaking, “I’m sorry.”
“Last night, I was reading a book on different theories of the shape and size of the universe.” Wayne ’s eyes grew wide with excitement as he picked up his apple from the lunch tray. “One theory suggests that the universe is finite. So theoretically, a spaceship could leave one point, travel continuously in one direction,” he began tracing a line around his apple with his finger “and end up back at the same point from which it departed. If it is infinite, the ship would travel on the same course forever and never return to that spot.”
“I’ve never heard that before.” I shook my head, uncertain about what to say next.
“Wayne’s always going on about stuff like that,” Anthony said between bites. “I just nod and pretend I understand. But the truth is, he could be speaking Chinese, and I’d understand it just as much. The only person in the school he can have a real conversation with is Mr. Winters.”
“Who’s Mr. Winters?” I asked, not sure how else to participate in the conversation.
“The chemistry and physics teacher. He’s the best,” Wayne’s eyes sparked with excitement. “He’s fresh out of college, so he’s just a little older than us. He even lets me take chemicals home for my own lab.”
I felt like my eyes grow wider. “You have your own lab?”
“It used to be the hall bathroom, but I took it over with my chemistry set a few years ago. A lab has to have a shower in case of emergencies. I’ve never had to use it, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he said before unhooking the rubber bands in his mouth and placing them in his plate.
The table fell into an awkward silence. I bit my lip and stared at the ceiling trying to think of something to say. “So—what’s the deal with the rusty looking water?”
Wayne waved unconcerned as he opened his milk carton. “The school’s on a well. Sometimes when it rains, the red clay gets washed into the water table making it muddy looking. It’s still safe to cook with when boiled. They put out water coolers when that happens.”
I thought about Wayne’s answer before saying, “But it hasn’t rained lately.”
Anthony stopped eating. His head tilted before looking at Wayne. “She’s right. It hasn’t rained in a couple of weeks.”
Wayne puzzled over it a moment. “I have Mr. Winters right after lunch. Maybe he’ll have an explanation, but if not, I’ll take some water samples and contact Clemson University. They take water and soil samples all the time and might help me figure this out.”
I shrugged. At least the rusty water topic moved the conversation away from theories on the universe. When the bell rang a few minutes later, I jumped up. Only two more periods left. I couldn’t wait for them to be over.
Chapter 3
“Heather! Heather sweetie, where are you?” Dad called walking through the door. He’d been about to burst with excitement since picking me up.
“What is it?” Mom came out of the kitchen wiping her hands with a towel.
“Guess who made a sale?” I squeezed behind him through the door.
“Oh!” She jumped and squealed before bounding into Dad’s arms. “Randall, I’m so proud of you. I knew we wouldn’t have to live like this for long.” She squealed again like someone my age. “So what kind of bonus did you get? I’ve had my eyes on a pretty dress down at Harley’s Dress Shoppe. Now that things aren’t so tight…I mean I’ve had to give up so much. I think I deserve something. Don’t you?”
I walked to my room and plopped my bag on my desk. Has she not caught on yet? I walked back out and sat on the sofa curious to see how Dad would handle Mom. That’s what we did with Mom. We handled her.
“Sweetie.” Dad pushed her away just a little so he could look her in the eye. “Selling a used car doesn’t make the money selling surgical equipment did. This means I keep my job, and we have food on the table. Besides you have a closet full of pretty dresses and nowhere to wear them.”
Mom yanked herself away from Dad. “So does it at least mean dinner at a nice seafood restaurant like it used to?”
I was kind of hoping the answer to that was yes. Mom’s cooking was limited.
“I don’t think so,” Dad walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
Mom bit her lips shut and stared at him. Didn’t she see this was hard for him too? For all of us? Apparently not, because like Scarlett, she stormed off to her bed chamber.
Dad plopped down on the couch and laid his head back to look at the ceiling. All his excitement about his sale now gone.
“Dad?”
“Yes Sweetheart.” He sat up to look at me.
“
What was the name of that seafood place we used to go to with Grandma?”
Dad perked up.
“It didn’t seem expensive back when we used to visit and go with her.”
Dad jumped up. “Great idea.”
He rushed over to his bedroom door and knocked. “I think we can keep the tradition—The Fish Camp.”
“Is the place still open?” Mom called from the other side.
I hoped so, because if it didn’t get resolved soon, she could be like this for days.
“Let me call and check.”
Dad looked up the phone number and called to find out they were open. Mom came out dressed a little over the top for the place I remembered, but at least she came out.
“Let’s go. We haven’t been out to eat in so long,” Mom said with a smile.
“Come on Holly. Get back in the car,” Dad said as he put his arm around me.
***
The line was out the door and down the walkway. Mom and Dad were arm-in-arm like a couple of teenagers. It was nice to see them relaxed and smiling. When Mom was happy, all was right in our world. But when she wasn’t…
“So why do they call it a fish camp? It’s just a restaurant,” I asked.
Mom turned to answer me. “Years ago, before refrigeration made seafood easily accessible for those away from the coast, people used to haul seafood up here to the upstate on ice—usually on Wednesdays or Thursdays. They’d set up camps, fry the fish along with hushpuppies, and sell them to the locals through Saturday night. Later the campsites became restaurants, but they still call them fish camps.”
“I didn’t know that. You have a very smart mother,” Dad said over his shoulder at me, then turned back to her. “Brains and beauty.” He caressed her cheek.
The lined inched up, and we finally entered the long entryway. “What kind of place is this?” My eyes were bugging out as I looked around me. The walls and ceiling were painted to look like rock.
The Earth Painter Page 2