Mr. Plunkett took off his glasses and grinned bigger than I’d ever seen him grin before. “I’d like that,” he said.
Darby!” Someone was calling my name as I was leaving school. I glanced up and saw Wanda trotting fast down the hall toward me. “What are you up to right now?”
“I …” I had no idea how to explain about the goat show. “Nothing.”
“Can I join you?”
“Um … Sure, I have some time.”
We fell into step together and headed through the big front doors, down the steps, and onto the curving sidewalk in front of the middle school.
“I have something for you.” Wanda reached into her bag and pulled out another bag — a smaller, cube-shaped one. “Look inside,” she said.
I knew what it appeared to be, and sure enough, as I unzipped the top and lifted back the flap, there was a camera. It looked very similar to hers.
“Wow,” I said.
“It’s my dad’s old one,” Wanda said. “He noticed I was getting into photography, so he gave this one to me when he bought himself a new one. He told me to use it as a backup camera. I thought you could borrow it and try taking pictures on your own. The ones you took on my main camera were cool.”
“They were?”
Wanda nodded. “You’re good at observing and looking beyond the obvious. Your photos were really — what’s the word? — dreamy.”
“Thanks, Wanda.” A warm, sweet feeling oozed over me, like hot fudge. I never thought I’d find something else I liked doing and might even be good at. It was as if I’d discovered buried treasure.
“Go ahead,” Wanda said. She lifted the camera out of the bag and put the strap around my neck. “Try it out!”
“Are you sure you want to loan this to me?”
“Of course!” Wanda chuckled. “I tried to give it to you in history class, but your sister went instead of you.”
My cheeks burned. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“But anyway, you have it now,” Wanda said. “I was hoping we’d walk around town again and take some more pictures. That was fun. Do you have time, or do you already have plans?”
Something inside me clicked into place, and just like that, I made a decision. I didn’t want to go cheer for goats. I wanted to boost my own spirit. And I could do that by hanging out for a while with my new friend. “Yeah, I have time. Let’s go take pictures.”
“Yay!”
We followed the sidewalk to the street and headed south, toward the middle part of town instead of north toward the Ranch Park. The wind was blowing and dry leaves skittered along the sidewalk in front of us, as if challenging us to a race.
I liked how Wanda and I could be together and not talk for a while. We just walked and watched and listened. Once again, I felt as if I was seeing my surroundings for the first time. And I ended up taking lots of pictures — of flowers, front porches crammed with potted plants, the giant metal horned toad on top of the garden store, a starburst-shaped crack in the cement, and pretty shadows on the sidewalk.
“You know,” I said as we sat on a bench overlooking the courtyard square, “I’ve lived here my whole life, but I’ve never appreciated how pretty and interesting this town is until I started taking pictures of it.”
“Yeah,” Wanda said, aiming her camera up toward the courthouse. “That’s one of the things I love about photography. You’re in the middle of everything, but you aren’t making things happen. You’re just there, noticing.”
“And then you capture it on film so other people can notice.”
Wanda grinned. “You’re good at it, you know. You really should join photography class. Our teacher is hoping to get a couple more people to join. What are your electives?”
“Spanish and, um, Cheer Squad.”
“Oh yeah. I saw you and your sisters at the pep rally. Do you like cheering?”
I shrugged. The answer was no, but I didn’t feel like explaining how the three of us were in there just so we’d have a class together, and how we’d originally planned to do Color Guard. Now that I stopped to think about it, I wasn’t all that disappointed about Color Guard anymore. I liked it fine — but not the way I liked taking pictures.
“Well, maybe you can take photography next year,” Wanda said. Her voice sounded like someone trying to be cheerful, but who didn’t entirely feel that way.
I considered her suggestion. I only got two elective classes, and one had to be a foreign language. That left just one opening. Knowing my sisters, they’d probably want us to sign up for Color Guard again next year. I couldn’t imagine Dawn or Delaney wanting to take photography. I might be able to in high school, when we have more electives, but that seemed so far away.
Just as I started to feel sad, I pushed the bad thoughts away. I didn’t want to fret about what my sisters wanted or wonder if I’ll ever get to learn photography or worry about letting Dawn down by not showing up for the 4-H Club event. I wanted to be here, on the courthouse grounds, watching squirrels and taking pictures with Wanda.
I wanted to be in the Now.
Cheer class had been super fun! Only … that was kind of a bad thing. Because it was so spectacular, I ended up being insubordinate and going against the plan my sisters and I ratified the night before.
When the bell rang, Dawn took off to see Mr. Plunkett and I was in the middle of a long run of jumps and cartwheels. I was just about to catch up with Darby so we could head over to the goat show together when suddenly I realized I’d left my backpack on the bleachers. I ran back to get it and was about to leave again when I heard Cherry let out a squeal and say, “That’s so cute!” while staring at something on Lynette’s cell phone. The rest of the eighth-grade cheerleaders were also standing around looking and going Aww. So then I was really curious and ran back again to take a peek, and saw the most adorable puppy! That made me want to tell them all about Mynah, and since I didn’t have a cell phone with photos on it, I did my best impression of her bouncing and wriggly nose. When we were done, I started to leave, remembered my backpack again, ran and got it, and then I couldn’t find Darby anywhere.
I started to walk over to the Ranch Park when Lynette poked her head out of the gym and called out, “Where are you going, Delaney?”
“Um … to see goats?”
“But today is cheerleader tryouts!” Lynette said. “You need to stay.” Cherry and a few of the others came up behind Lynette and started calling out things like, “Yeah, stay!” and “You’re so good!” and “You’re sure to get picked!”
I stood near the school’s front door for what seemed like a long time, feeling like the rope in a tug-of-war. Go or stay? Goat show or tryouts? Sisters or cheerleader pals? I knew what I wanted to do — but I wasn’t sure if I should.
“Will it take a long time?” I called back to the other girls.
“No!” Lynette said. “You just cheer, that’s all.”
“Oh, okay!” I decided I could maybe do both and told myself Dawn would understand. Even if I was a little late, it shouldn’t matter. After all, Darby would be there with her. Now, looking back, I think maybe I was trying to fool myself. And either I’m really good at fooling or I’m easily fooled.
Tryouts weren’t hard — just cheering by myself and with the group in front of Coach Manbeck and the head cheerleaders — but it took a lot longer than I’d thought. Once it was done and I looked at the clock on the wall, I knew there was no point in heading over to join Dawn and Darby. That’s when I realized what I’d done and guilt took over. It was like my heart was all heavy and droopy and trying to drag me down low. I couldn’t have turned another cartwheel if I tried.
There was nothing left to do but go home and face my sisters’ wrath.
It felt a little weird walking by myself. Even if one of us is sick, there’s still another of my sisters headed home with me each day. It gave me that odd feeling that I was forgetting something — even though I’d already gotten my backpack. Twice. I even hummed a song as I went, so it woul
dn’t seem so sad and lonely, and kept a lookout for anyone else I knew. Unfortunately, the only people I spotted were strangers or were headed other directions.
Our route home passes by our old elementary school. Mostly I don’t think much about it as we go past — we’re usually too busy talking or I’m thinking about what’s for dinner. But since it was just me that day, I stopped and leaned against the playground fence.
Even though the school day had ended already and the students had left the building, there were still a few kids on the playground. One boy kept going on the whirl-around slide — a big slide with a tunnel that goes in two curves. When I first started at that school, I thought that slide looked enormous and scary. But now it seemed small. And the swings didn’t seem high off the ground, like I remembered. In fact, the entire playground seemed to have shrunk. It made me feel kind of forlorn, and all the guilt and sadness made me drag my feet the rest of the way home.
Mom was laughing when I walked into the living room. The sound seemed strange to me, since I was in such a low-down mood.
“Are Dawn and Darby here yet?” I asked.
That’s when I noticed Mom was on the phone. “Not yet,” she said, holding it away from her face. Then she moved the phone back near her mouth and said, “What was that, Jane?”
I perked up suddenly. “Is that Aunt Jane? Can I talk to her? Please can I just say hello?”
Mom frowned and shook her head, trying to keep listening to Aunt Jane. Eventually she saw my pleading eyes and sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Jane? Delaney is here and wants to talk to you.”
She held the phone out to me. I snatched it up with a victorious bounce.
“Hi, Aunt Jane,” I said. “How are you? How’s the campground? How’s Mrs. Kimbro? How’s Mo?”
Aunt Jane laughed. “I’m fine, and everyone around here is fine — including that old donkey. In fact Mo has a new pal.”
“A new pal? Who?” I asked, feeling a little jealous.
“Mrs. Kimbro got a puppy named Chloe, and she and Mo are already the best of friends.”
“Awww!” My voice went up so high it made Mom wince. She made the hurry up sign with her hand and went into the kitchen.
“Plus, the new dock is almost finished,” Aunt Jane went on. “As soon as it’s done and we have some new boats, you girls will have to come visit to test things out.”
“That would be stupendous! Maybe we could call up Robbie and his brothers and invite them, too!”
“Great idea.”
“I miss you, Aunt Jane. And I miss Robbie and Mo and Mrs. Kimbro’s homemade biscuits and the big trees and the fish and … and …”
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, Delaney,” Aunt Jane said.
I hadn’t even realized I was crying a little, but I was. My voice had gone all high and wobbly and a tear had run out of each of my eyes, creating matching streaks down my face.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m just tired, I think. Maybe I need to eat more protein.”
“Is school going all right? Your mom said you three had some disappointing things happen.”
“Yeah …” I let my voice peter out. I wondered if I should tell her about cheerleading and Dawn’s crazy plan and how I missed my sisters during the day but sort of got tired of them when they were around. Only, I wasn’t sure if I could put it into words. It didn’t make sense, all the feelings inside me — my mind was like that whirl-around slide, only with lots more turns.
“Anything you want to tell me about?”
I pondered this. It occurred to me that I could tell her about doing cheer tryouts instead of meeting Dawn and Darby. Maybe I’d feel better if I admitted it and got some advice. But it was such a long story and Mom had already come back into the room and was motioning for me to give her the phone. “No,” I said. “Just … I miss you.”
“Miss you, too, Delaney-doo.”
I handed the phone to Mom and trudged upstairs to our room.
When I got there, I did something I don’t usually do. I just sat. I plopped down in the desk chair and tried to make my brain settle down. As I did that, my eyes wandered all around the room until they landed on something hanging on the wall: a flag, given to us by three brothers we’d met on our camping trip last spring. Robbie, the middle brother, had been an especially good friend to me, and we still sometimes sent each other postcards. He’d made the flag himself, and it was beautiful. The design was of six hands all holding on to each other at the wrist, making a hexagon shape — a symbol for the three of us becoming friends with the three of them.
A friend. Could that be what I needed right now instead of a sister or even a beloved aunt? Maybe I’d feel better if I confided in Robbie. Seemed strange to admit, but I’d never really gone to anyone outside of family for help before. Maybe it was time to try.
I spun around and found some paper and a pen in the nearby desk drawers. Then I took a deep breath and tried to put all my worries into words:
Dear Robbie,
How are you? How are Nelson and Jay and your dad? We are doing okay. Seventh grade started and it’s been fine adequate disappointing.
I’m going to tell you a secret because I have to tell someone or it will explode inside me and then — who knows? — maybe I’ll get real sick or lose my ability to speak or something. I can’t tell any adults, because they just won’t understand. And I can’t tell my sisters because they’re part of my problem.
Okay. Here goes. The secret is this: I think I really like cheerleading.
Only the thing is, I’m not supposed to like it — because Dawn and Darby don’t like it. And we’re all for one and one for all.
Anyway, thanks for listening. Wait, that’s not right. We aren’t talking. Thanks for reading. Well … that’s not exactly right either because you haven’t read this yet. So I guess thanks for being a friend — the kind of friend I can write things to and it will make me feel better.
Your pal,
Delaney
It was thirty-five minutes after meet-up time, and I was still the only official JCMS Pom Squad rep at the goat show. It was becoming increasingly obvious that my sisters weren’t just late — they weren’t going to come at all.
I wondered if I should go ahead and cheer by myself. I’d already scouted a good location — an empty square at the end of a row of pens where two aisles intersected. There were even a few folding chairs where people could sit and watch if they wanted to.
“Here goes,” I said to myself. I stood in the square, tightened my grip on the pom-poms, and started to bounce …
But then I couldn’t do anything else. It just seemed preposterous. Two or more people could be a pep squad, but if it was just me cheering and leaping about, it would probably look like I was bonkers. Plus, I wasn’t very good at the leaping-about part. And with so many people busy walking, brushing, or giving haircuts to their goats, I probably wouldn’t attract much attention.
I sat on a folding chair near one of the pens and crossed my arms — partly as an angry gesture and partly to hug myself. What was wrong with everyone? First the other pep squad representatives didn’t show at cross-country, leaving it up to me and my sisters. Then Darby up and forgets the chess meet. And now she and Delaney were both no-shows. It had been a long, gradual uprising. A passive, inconsiderate resistance.
I heard a bleating sound and glanced over to find two gold eyes looking back at me. They were sort of like a giant cat’s eyes, only the dark slits in the center went the wrong way — side to side instead of up and down. The sight of them made me yelp and jump out of my seat.
It was a goat, of course. And according to the ribbon on his pen, he was an excellent one. I noticed another, older-looking goat in the pen with him, but he (or she) just lay in the pine shavings looking bored. Meanwhile, this goat kept staring at me and twitching his ears. I wondered if he had a name. I also wondered why he seemed so interested in me.
“Hi,” I said.
The goat made a snuffling noise and bobb
ed his head as if nodding.
“Yeah, it’s just me,” I said, as if he’d asked me a question. “No sisters this time. I don’t suppose you have any siblings? No? Well, good for you. You don’t have to worry about being stood up by people who share your DNA.”
He kept on peering at me. His eyes didn’t seem scary anymore. And I noticed they had long, pretty lashes.
“Then again, I feel a little sorry for you,” I said. I turned around and leaned back against the metal rails of the pen. “Because when it works right, having sisters is the best thing ever.” Down the aisle in front of me, I could see two little girls walking together. One looked about seven and the other looked around four. They were holding hands as they strolled along, pointing and chatting about the different goats. Seeing them gave me a twinge — as if my heart was being pulled and twisted like Silly Putty.
I could hear more snuffling behind me and knew that my goat pal was still there, listening.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said, as if he’d given me some great goat advice. “Maybe I shouldn’t do things for them anymore. This morning I fed Quincy so that Delaney had time to find her favorite tennis shoes. And tomorrow I’m supposed to pretend to be Darby and talk in her history class so she doesn’t get a bad grade. If they can’t even show up for this, then maybe I shouldn’t show up for them. Delaney can do her own dang chores. And maybe Darby should fail her class if she can’t pipe up.”
All that angry ranting made me feel a little more powerful and a little less sorry for myself, but the minute I said the words, I also knew I didn’t believe them. I couldn’t go against my sisters or do anything that might hurt them — not even if they deserved it.
“The thing is,” I said to the goat noises behind me, “I thought my sisters needed me. But I guess they don’t. And not only does that make me sad, it also makes me scared. How can someone be a leader without followers?”
The whole time I talked, the sounds behind me grew louder. It made me glad to know that the goat was still listening — at least he hadn’t given up on me. But then I felt a weird tugging sensation.
Revenge of the Teacher's Pets Page 13