by Carol Gorman
“How could I forget to breathe?” I asked, my voice sounding loud in the sack.
The doorbell rang.
“There’s Grandma,” Mom said.
Hic.
“Mom, it’s not working!” My voice boomed in my ears.
“I’m going to let her in,” she said.
I stumbled through the dining room and into the foyer behind Mom. I heard the front door open.
“Hi, Mom,” Mom said.
“Hello, dear,” Grandma said. There was a pause. “Why does Lizard have a bag over her head?”
“Hi, Grandma,” I said, and waved in what I figured was her general direction.
“Lizard has the hiccups,” Mom said.
“Oh, we’ll take care of those in a hurry,” Grandma said.
“Great!” Hic.
“Take that bag off your head, Lizard, and come with me.”
I pulled off the bag and followed her into the kitchen. Grandmas are supposed to know old-fashioned remedies for stuff, and my hopes were high that she’d help me get rid of these hiccups.
She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. “Now, lean way over and drink the water upside down from the lower rim of the cup.”
I leaned over and sipped the water. It dribbled out the corners of my mouth, across my cheeks, and into my ears.
Hic. The hiccup pulled some water into my windpipe, and I started coughing.
“You’re not supposed to inhale the water, dear,” Grandma said, slapping me on the back.
So much for old-fashioned remedies.
The telephone on the wall rang, and Mom picked it up. “It’s for you, Lizard,” Mom said.
I went to the phone. “Hello?”
“Lizard, this is Ginger. In the theater, you don’t say ‘Good luck,’ you say, ‘Break a leg.’ So I hope you break all of your legs and all of your arms!” She laughed loudly.
“I only have two of each,” I said. Hic.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” I didn’t want to talk about my hiccups with Ginger. I just wanted to get off the phone and try and get rid of them.
Hic.
“That! You have the hiccups?” Ginger’s voice rose. “You’ve got to get rid of them! What if you hiccup in the fashion show?”
“I’ve got to go, Ginger.” Hic. I hung up.
“This is terrible, this is horrible, this is ridiculous!” I stomped into the living room.
“What’s terrible, horrible, and ridiculous?” Sam asked. He sat in the living room, eating a banana. “I mean, besides you?”
“I have the hiccups! I can’t stop them.”
But if I thought my dear brother would try and help me, I was wrong. He just shrugged and loped out of the room.
I ran upstairs to the phone in my parents’ room, so I could talk privately with Mary Ann. I dialed her number.
“Mary Ann,” I said frantically. “It’s happened.” Hic. “I’ve got them.”
“Oh, my gosh,” she said. “Okay, listen. I prepared for this. In the last few days I’ve asked almost everybody I know how they get rid of hiccups. I’ve got my list right here. First, try taking a drink of water.”
“I already tried that.”
“Okay, next try holding your breath.”
“I tried that too.”
“Put a paper bag over your—”
“Didn’t work.”
“Did you take a tablespoon of sugar?”
“No. That’s it? Just eat a tablespoon of sugar?”
“That’s what my grandma said.”
I was willing to take a chance on another grandma. “Wait a second.”
I dropped the phone and ran downstairs. Mom and Grandma were sitting in the living room.
“How are the hiccups?” Mom called.
Hic. “Alive and well.”
I hurried into the kitchen and scooped out a tablespoon of sugar from the bowl on the table.
“BOO!”
My nerves were already pretty well shot, but when Sam leaped out at me from the dining room, I yelped and jumped a foot in the air, spilling the sugar all over the floor.
“Look what you made me do!” I yelled at him.
“Yeah, but are your hiccups gone?” he asked.
I waited. Five seconds passed. Then ten.
“They’re gone! Sam, they’re—” Hic. “They’re still here.”
I scooped out another spoonful of sugar and jammed it in my mouth for good measure. It was sweet and gritty and took a while to get down.
Hic.
I groaned and ran out of the kitchen. “Clean up that sugar, will you, Sam?” I yelled over my shoulder, crunching sugar under my sneakers.
As I ran up the stairs, I heard him protesting that he was not going to clean it up because he wasn’t the person who spilled it in the first place.
“It didn’t work!” I wailed to Mary Ann.
“Okay, I have some more remedies,” she said. “One of them has to work! Go stand on your head, and hold your breath as long as you can.”
“Okay.” I dropped the phone again and stood on my head next to my parents’ bed. I took a big breath and held it a long, long time. My head felt full, as if all the organs in my body had slid down into my skull. I was sure my heart, lungs, stomach, and intestines were stuffed into my head like giblets in a Thanksgiving turkey. I saw a pair of feet walk into the room and heard someone’s voice.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor. Mom was kneeling over me.
“Lizard? Are you okay? You must’ve passed out.”
“I don’t feel too well.” Hic. “Will you tell Mary Ann I’ll call her later? She’s on the phone.”
Mom talked to Mary Ann and hung up. “Why don’t you lie down?” she suggested.
I got up slowly, walked into my room, and flopped on the bed.
“This is the worst day”—hic—“of my entire life,” I said.
Mom and Grandma dropped me off at the mall. “I’m sure your hiccups will be gone by the time the show starts,” Mom said.
“Hold your breath as much as you can,” Grandma said.
“Don’t tell her that!” Mom said. “She passed out this morning because she held her breath too long.”
“Don’t hold your breath, dear,” Grandma said. “Your hiccups will probably stop by themselves.”
Hic. “Sure, Grandma.”
I said good-bye and ran in the mall entrance. Shoppers were milling around with their bags of stuff they’d bought. Some sat at tables at the food court near the entrance.
The stage and runway were set up in the middle of the court. The backdrops were black so the clothes would show up well in front of them, I guessed.
I imagined myself up on that stage two hours from now, walking through that third song, wearing nothing but my swimsuit and sneakers.
Hic.
The hiccup echoed through the mall corridors, over the noise of the shoppers. People turned to look at me. Some smiled. I slapped a hand over my mouth and hurried toward Pearson’s, where our dressing room was set up. I’d only been at the mall a few seconds, and already I was making a spectacle of myself.
Most of the other girls were already there. Some were fixing their hair, some their makeup. Ms. Landers was busy, moving around the room with her clipboard under her arm.
Lisa hurried over to me. “Ginger called,” she said. “Did you get rid of your hiccups?”
Hic.
It was the loudest one yet. All the models stopped and turned to look at me.
I winced. “Hi,” I said to everyone.
“Was that a hiccup?” Ms. Landers asked, hurrying toward me.
“Yes.”
Lisa smirked.
“There’s a drinking fountain at the end of the corridor—”
“I’ve drunk so much water, my back teeth are floating,” I told her. I knew everyone was listening.
“When did you get them?”
“Two hours ago. Ms. Landers, I�
�ve tried everything. I put a bag over my head, ate sugar, held my breath, been scared silly, stood on my head, and drank water upside down.”
Ms. Landers looked nervous. I guess she’d never had to deal with a hiccuping model before.
“Why don’t you go get ready,” she said. “Maybe they’ll go away if you’re thinking about something else.”
Like modeling the swimsuit? I wondered. Hic.
Some of the girls snickered, and most of them looked pleased about the whole thing. Especially Lisa.
“Your makeup table is next to the wall over there, Lizard,” Ms. Landers said.
I nodded and went to my table. I flicked on the switch, and the lights around the mirror flashed on.
I sat down and brushed out my hair.
Hic.
I arranged it in a French braid.
Hic.
I checked the order of my wardrobe changes on the aluminum rack next to my table.
Hic.
I filled the dressing area with my hiccups. They were getting worse. Closer together and louder than ever.
I felt tears in my eyes, but I forced a smile every time someone looked at me.
Ms. Landers hovered nearby and paced back and forth. I felt sorry for her. This was terrible for her too.
When my hair and makeup were done, I went to the entrance of Pearson’s and looked out. I closed my lips tightly and put a hand over my mouth so if I hiccuped, I wouldn’t make too much noise.
The mall was quickly filling up with people. Mom, Dad, Sam, and Grandma sat in the fifth row. Mom and Grandma were talking, looking worried. Dad and Sam sat quietly, looking bored.
Ginger, Tiffany, and Heather sat in the second row, yakking away and laughing.
Zach had said he’d sit in the front row, but I didn’t see him. I didn’t see Ed or Stinky, either. Maybe they forgot. I didn’t care. In fact, I hoped Zach wouldn’t come. I didn’t want him to see my public humiliation.
I went back to my table and sat down. Hic. We weren’t supposed to sit in the clothes we were modeling, so no one was dressed yet.
Hic.
Abby came over. “I’m sorry about your hiccups, Lizard,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. The hiccups probably won’t be heard past the fifth or sixth row, anyway. I mean, with the music playing and all.”
She was trying to be nice, so I smiled. “Thanks. I hope you’re right.”
“We have twenty minutes left,” Ms. Landers called out. “Please put on your first outfit. And don’t forget to use your pillowcases.”
Hic.
Ms. Landers shot me a worried look.
We’d each had to bring a pillowcase from home. It was to protect the clothes from getting makeup on them. Ms. Landers had said if we got any makeup on the clothes, the store wouldn’t take them back, and we’d have to buy them.
I put my pillowcase over my head, then pulled on the polo.
I changed into the jeans, socks, and cross-training shoes, hiccuping the whole time. Then I walked to the entrance and looked out again.
The audience was twice as large now.
“Lizard!” It was a whisper to my right.
“Oh, Zach.” He stood there, smiling. It was so good to see his face!
Hic.
“I heard about your hiccups.”
“It’s horrible. I don’t know what to do.” Hic. “This is the worst thing that’s ever happen—”
Before I knew what was happening, Zach pulled me to him and kissed me full on the mouth. It was warm and tingling, and I felt myself go limp.
We came up for air, and then he kissed me again. Long and sweet.
When he finally pulled away, I realized I was breathless. I blinked at him.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“I—well, I—It’s just that—I mean, we’ve never—” I couldn’t get the words out.
“They’re gone, aren’t they?”
“What’s gone?”
“The hiccups. They’re gone.”
I waited about ten seconds. Fifteen. I took a big breath and let it out. No hiccups.
“Wow. They are gone.” I looked at him. “Thanks!”
Zach grinned, his ears bright red. “See you after the show. Good luck.” He squeezed my hand and disappeared.
I looked up to see Lisa standing there. She looked furious. She must have seen the whole thing.
I laughed. “Come on, Lisa,” I said. “We’ve got a show to do!”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW fast the show went. The first two songs zipped by. I didn’t even have to think about the choreography because we’d been through it so many times.
Besides, all I could think about was Zach and his amazing hiccup remedy. I could tell he was really feeling that kiss, like I was. It was a sensational kiss. The kiss of a lifetime. A major hiccup-stopping kiss. I was looking forward to getting another one, even if I didn’t have the hiccups.
Zach sat in the front row, just as he’d promised. He grinned at me, and I grinned back during the first two songs. Then I smiled at Mary Ann and Mom and Dad and Grandma and Sam and Ed.
I even smiled at Stinky—for just a second.
I was still feeling great when I put on the swimsuit. Just do it, I thought. Don’t even think about it.
When I heard my cue, I bounced out onstage to the music, holding my head up, swinging my arms a little and grinning. A huge whoop went up from the crowd. I laughed and waved to them with the arm in the cast. They whooped even louder.
All that worry for nothing! I grinned all the way through that song, and before I knew it, it was over.
In the last song, when I came out in that sophisticated column dress, Zach looked impressed. Ginger put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. Everyone seemed to be looking at me and smiling because my cast didn’t quite fit the elegance of the dress.
And that was it. The fashion show was over, and, believe it or not, I was just a tiny bit sorry to have it end. I had dreaded it so much, and it had turned out to be fun! My hiccups didn’t come back, and no one had laughed.
Ms. Landers asked the audience to remain seated while the judges’ ballots were tallied to determine the winner of the Supermodel prize. Then she called all of us to come back onstage. We were still dressed in our evening wear. We stood together and waited. I grinned again at Zach, and even from the stage, under the bright lights, I could see his ears turn red. It made me smile even more.
Mom and Dad and Grandma looked happy. Mom gave me a thumbs-up sign, and Mary Ann gave me an A-okay sign.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Ms. Landers into the mike at stage right, “the judges have made their decision. The Supermodel is chosen not only for her beauty and ability to model fashions, but also for the mood she creates with the music and the personality that she projects from the stage.
“This year, the judges have selected as the Spring Pines Fashion Show Supermodel”—the mall was absolutely quiet, waiting—“a young lady who deserves this title: Lizard Flanagan.”
For a second the whole world stopped. Then a roar went up from the crowd, and hands pushed me forward, and I looked out over the mob of people who clapped and stood up and clapped some more. Zach beamed and whooped, and Mary Ann’s eyes sparkled, and it seemed that the whole world was watching me.
Could this really be happening? Maybe it was a mistake …
I don’t remember getting there, but suddenly I was standing next to Ms. Landers. She handed me a certificate and a check and shook my hand, then gave me a big hug. I grinned and waved to the crowd, who smiled and waved back.
And it was over.
It was over!
But wow! What an ending!
“Well, I can tell you one thing. Lisa wasn’t even in the running for Supermodel,” Mary Ann said that evening. “She scowled through the whole show.”
Mary Ann and I were sitting under the maple tree in the backyard.
I grinned. I’d been grinning most of the time since the s
how. I’d grinned while everybody congratulated me on my Supermodel award; I’d grinned while I took off my makeup and changed back into my regular clothes; I’d grinned while I ate my celebration dinner out with my family and while I said good-bye to Grandma.
And now I grinned again. “You want to know why Lisa was so crabby during the show?”
“Sure. Why?”
I peered up into the tree to make sure Sam wasn’t up there, listening.
“Want to know how I really got rid of my hiccups?” I’d told everyone after the show that they’d stopped by themselves.
“How?”
I leaned closer to Mary Ann. “Zach kissed me.”
Mary Ann’s eyes got big, and her mouth opened in a huge O. “Really? What was it like?”
So I told her all about it. How I was in such a panic about the hiccups, how he appeared like magic outside the dressing area. And how he pulled me to him and kissed me. Twice.
“Twice?”
“Twice.” I grinned some more. “He has nice lips.” That last comment just slipped out, and I slapped a hand over my mouth, laughing.
“And your hiccups stopped?”
“Instantly.”
“Just think,” Mary Ann said. “You’ll remember your first kiss for the rest of your life. The kiss that saved the fashion show.”
“Yeah, really.”
“And earned you the Supermodel prize.” Mary Ann sat back against the tree. “I wondered why you were so sparkly up there on the stage.”
“I was sparkly?”
“Awesomely sparkly.”
“I’m never doing it again.”
“You don’t have to. And now we can sign up for the Wrigley Field trip.”
“Yeah, it’ll be so awesome. Plus, I can pay my parents back and still have fifty dollars left over.”
But then I remembered that before we went to Chicago, Zach had to go through something that was as scary to him as the fashion show was for me.
He had to lie in that closed, dark coffin in his Dracula scene. I wished there was something I could do to help him the way he helped me. Somehow I knew that it was going to take more than a kiss to solve his problem.
The idea came to me after school on Monday, the day before Zach had to do his scene. I’d run out of sport socks, so I went into my parents’ room to borrow a pair from my mom. On the bedside table was my dad’s little cassette player and earphones and two tapes he’d been listening to.