Then she asked me if I had hinted to Carl Ray about taking her out and I said no, I hadn’t, so she made me go with her to the hardware store to see him. It went something like this:
(Scene: Two girls, Mary Lou and Beth Ann, enter hardware store. A seventeen-year-old gangly, pale, freckled boy with a tiny bird head and enormous hands and feet [Carl Ray] is straightening the display of insect repellents. He looks up, turns brilliant red, and then continues to straighten display.)
BETH ANN: (whispering to Mary Lou) Come on then. Say something to him.
MARY LOU: (also whispering) This is ridiculous.
(They walk up to Carl Ray. He’s still straightening cans.)
MARY LOU: So hi there, Carl Ray.
CARL RAY: Hi.
MARY LOU: So. You know Beth Ann here, don’t you?
CARL RAY: (still straightening cans) Unnh.
BETH ANN: (in her Marilyn Monroe voice) Hellooooo, Carl Ray. I haven’t seen you in ages.
(Carl Ray looks up. He’s not completely stupid.)
CARL RAY: Enh.
MARY LOU: So whatcha doin’, Carl Ray?
CARL RAY: Workin’.
MARY LOU: Ah.
BETH ANN: I bet you have a lot of responsibility here.
CARL RAY: What’s your name again?
BETH ANN: Beth Ann. Beth Ann Bartels. B-A-R-T-E-L-S. I live over at six-two-two Holmden Road. Right around the corner from Mary Lou.
MARY LOU: (aside to Beth Ann) Why don’t you give him your phone number or something?
BETH ANN: (aside to Mary Lou) Oh, shut up.
CARL RAY: (to Mary Lou) You want something?
MARY LOU: Huh?
CARL RAY: From the store?
MARY LOU: Oh. Uh—
BETH ANN: No, we don’t want anything. We just came in to see you.
CARL RAY: Huh?
BETH ANN: Oh, we were just in the neighborhood, and I said to Mary Lou, why don’t we go in and see your cousin, since we’re right here, because, I said, I haven’t seen your cousin in ages and I wonder how he’s doing. So Mary Lou said okay, although she can’t stay long because she has to go home to get ready for her date with Alex. They’re going to the movies. They’re going to see that real good movie about the guy who inherits his father’s ranch and there’s this girl—well, actually, I don’t know too much about it because I haven’t seen it yet, but I hear it’s a romance, sort of, but it has adventure too. And it’s a little sad but also funny too. That’s what I hear. Maybe Mary Lou will tell me all about it after she and Alex see it tonight. I guess I’ll just stay home and read or something boring like that. Don’t you hate these beautiful summer nights when all there is to do is sit home and read?
CARL RAY: What’d you say your name was again?
BETH ANN: Beth Ann Bartels. I live at—
MARY LOU: Excuse me, but I’m going to go over there and look at wallpaper paste. I’ll be right over there if either of you needs me.
(Scene fades out.)
Well, she did it. She got him to ask her to the movies. Unbelievable. And her parents are letting her go. When I told my mother, she said, “Beth Ann? With Carl Ray? But he’s seventeen years old! Whatever can her parents be thinking?”
Exactly.
But then Beth Ann wanted me and Alex to go with them! I really thought that was stretching friendship a bit far. I refused. So they went to the movie that we wanted to see (and which, by the way, Beth Ann has seen three times already), and we walked down to the Big Boy and had a hamburger and then we went to the park (by the pool) and sat on the picnic tables.
We held hands for twenty minutes (I had my watch on). I’ve been practicing kissing on one of Maggie’s posters—there’s one of a guy who has approximately life-size lips—just in case Alex decides to kiss me. Sometimes I think he’s going to, but he gets all nervous and never does. I’m a little glad. I hope, when the time comes, I have a chance to brush my teeth first. I also hope that it doesn’t taste like chicken.
On Saturday, Beth Ann called me to tell me how wonnnnderful Carl Ray is (Carl Ray? Wonnnnderful?) and that they were going out again that night. Unbelievable. She loves his car (maybe she’s just after his money) and she thinks he’s shy (well, that’s true) and cute (pretty far-fetched, if you ask me) and such a gentleman (I think she’s making this up) and sooooo interesting (absolutely a bald-faced lie).
She also said that she didn’t think “the jerk” (Derek) got her letter yet (well, of course not, she just mailed it the day before), and, no, they hadn’t run into “the jerk” at the movies (probably because she had made him take her to it three times already), but sooner or later she and Carl Ray (she’s talking like she owns him now or something) were bound to run into the ole jerk.
Beth Ann also said that Christy had called her that morning (Saturday) and told her that the GGP (the secret club) was having a pajama party that night and only a few non-GGP girls were invited, and that these non-GGP girls were “under consideration for membership.” They invited Beth Ann to the party, but she told Christy she couldn’t go because she had a date with an older man (oh, brother). Beth Ann decided this was good strategy anyway, and it would make them even more anxious for her to join.
Then Beth Ann said that Christy asked her a million questions about me and Alex, but Beth Ann said she really didn’t know too much about Alex because I don’t tell her very much. As if she ever gives me a chance to get a word in.
Then Beth Ann said that Christy was probably going to call me at any minute so I’d better get off the phone.
Christy didn’t call.
The other news is that Carl Ray is going home next Friday. When I mentioned that to Beth Ann today, she about blew a gasket. You’d think they were married or something. She said, “Oh, how can he leave me now?” and “Why does he have to go on the weekend?” and all that kind of malarkey.
Wild Winds and Pig-Men
I read Book Ten of the Odyssey yesterday afternoon. It was pretty good, but there are some very strange parts. For instance, King Aeolus lives on an island and he had six sons and six daughters and he made them marry each other (how disgusting), I guess because of the island and no other people being around. The King gives Odysseus a present. It’s a bag of winds. Really, a bag full of crazy, wild winds, the kind that are blowing around outside right now. So Odysseus takes this weird present and off he goes, but when he falls asleep, his nosy men open the bag and the winds get out and there’s this horrible storm and they get tossed around and are driven about eight million miles away from their home (they were almost home until this happened).
Then they go to another island, where Circe lives, and she changes all the men (except Odysseus, who, of course, is too clever) into pigs (Homer really gets carried away sometimes). Circe falls all over Odysseus and wants him to go to bed with her (Homer doesn’t seem to care that Odysseus is a married man) and has all her servants wash him and anoint him. You’d think he’d get tired of having other people wash him all the time and put oil all over him. (My parents don’t want me to watch any sex or violence on television. If only they knew what the school is asking us to read!)
Anyway, Odysseus and his pig-men end up staying there twelve months!
Carl Ray happened to sneak by me in the living room while I was reading, and he asked me what part I was on. When I mentioned about Circe and the pigs, he said, “Oh yeah. Book Ten.” This surprised the heck out of me. And when I said that I thought it was a little far-fetched about the men turning into pigs, he said, “Well, it’s a metaphor.” (Can you imagine Carl Ray even knowing what a metaphor is?) And I said, “How so?” and he said, “Women turn men into pigs all the time.”
Then he went into the kitchen to make himself about four sandwiches.
And I sat there thinking about that. I hate to admit it, but it’s really very interesting and I wondered why I didn’t think of that. Maybe this whole trip that Odysseus is on is a big metaphor, you know, like the poem about the woods on the snowy evening. That r
oad is supposed to be the road of life.
I asked Alex about it that night when we went to the movies (Beth Ann and Carl Ray went to play miniature golf), and even he seemed to have known all along about all the metaphors. He said, “Sure, his whole trip is a metaphor. It’s like life, you know. All the time you’re trying to find home (you are?) and all the time you have these adventures.”
I never even knew that Alex paid attention in English. I’m supposed to be the one good in English. I felt pretty stupid. But I like the Odyssey better now.
I will tell only briefly about Saturday night because the thunder is scaring me to death.
We went to the movies and saw this really sappy romance, but I have to admit that I enjoy the kissing scenes a lot more now than I used to. I’ve been studying them. I think I might write my own manual. Usually the guy starts the kiss, but not always. If he starts it, the girl often acts shy at first, but then she gets into it, and throws her arms around his neck. When the girl starts it, the guy usually looks pleased, and then he throws his arms around her.
One odd thing I’ve noticed is that the kisses rarely occur when everything is all quiet and romantic. They happen at times you wouldn’t ordinarily expect them, like after a fight—just when the woman has been telling the man that she hates him—or right in the middle of the street with people walking past and cars honking their horns. In the movie we saw tonight, a couple kissed right smack in the middle of the supermarket, after the woman picked up a frozen chicken! I’ve never noticed that in real life. Maybe it happens, though. Maybe I haven’t been paying enough attention.
After the movie, Alex and I went to the park and he started telling me about why he likes basketball so much, but that he’s always worried he won’t make the team. Now, that surprised me about Alex. I thought he was Mr. Basketball Confidence. And right in the middle of talking about basketball, he reached over and put his arm around me. It’s the truth! Now, how in the world do boys’ brains work? How do they connect basketball and putting their arm around a girl? I would have liked a little warning. And what exactly is the girl supposed to do when the boy puts his arm around her? Just sit there? Move closer? Untangle her own arm and put it around him (squash!)?
I just sat there, pretending not to notice. Alex kept talking about basketball. I was pretty sure the kiss was going to come next, but it didn’t. Who cares??!! It’s getting so that if Alex just breathes on me, I feel like I have on my magic sandals and am flying off to Mount Olympus. I think maybe Alex wasn’t quite sure about this new move either, because after five minutes he moved that arm and then he scratched his head and then he leaned down and retied his shoe and then he stood up and stretched. I hope he didn’t think that I minded about his arm. Was I supposed to say something? Like “It is nice of you to place your arm on my shoulder. You may keep it there if you like.” Oh sighhhh. I’ll change the subject.
Apparently Beth Ann and Carl Ray (I’m going to start calling him Lance Romance, as he is finally using the shower and splashing on tons of aftershave) had a “truly di-viiiiine and wonderful” time at miniature golf (how you could have a truly divine and wonderful time trying to push little balls through a clown’s mouth is beyond me).
And Derek-the-jerk wasn’t at the miniature golf range. Surprise, surprise.
Monday, July 23
Oh, brother. I don’t believe it. That stupid Carl Ray.
At dinner tonight, Dad asked Carl Ray when he was going home and Carl Ray said he was leaving on Friday, and so Mom asked him when he would be back and he said the next Friday and then Dad asked him if he minded driving alone.
And Carl Ray said, “Don’t rightly know.”
And Dad said, “Mighty long drive.”
And Mom said, “Isn’t there anyone who could ride along with you?”
And then it went like this:
DAD: Good idea.
MOM: What about one of the kids?
Maggie looked at me and I looked at Dennis and he looked at Dougie and he looked at Tommy. Tommy said, “Me! Me! I going!”
MOM: No, Tommy, you’re too little.
TOMMY: Me! Me!
Dad looked at Maggie.
MAGGIE: I’d like to, honest, but I just can’t, what with watching Tommy and all, and besides, Kenny and I are going to the Easton Festival and also I promised Mrs. Furtz I would take Barry and Cathy and David and—
DAD: Okay, okay, I get the picture.
DENNIS: I’m going camping with Billy, remember?
MOM: Oh, right.
DOUGIE: And I get carsick. (He really does.)
Everyone, by this time, is looking at me. I am in a complete panic.
MOM: Oh, Mary Lou! Wouldn’t you like to go?
ME: Sure. Sure, I’d really love to go and all, but boy, Maggie always needs help with Tommy, and Alex and I already made plans—
MOM: Plans? For what?
ME: Well, plans. To do stuff.
DAD: Like what?
ME: (What was the matter with my stupid brain?) Well, just plans. To go to the movies—
MOM: You just went to the movies.
ME: Another movie!
DAD: What else?
ME: You know, plans.
MOM: Well, really, Mary Lou, you might be the best one to go, and besides, you’ve got the whole rest of the summer to see Alex.
ME: But—what about Alex? What if he forgets me? What if—
DAD: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
And that was the absolute end of that. I couldn’t believe it.
The only thing that makes me not pack my bag and run away from home is that Alex called tonight, and when I told him about having to go with Carl Ray, he said that that was amazing, because his parents had been bugging him to go with them to see his cousins in Michigan next Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, and that he’d been trying to find a way to convince them to let him stay home, but if I was going to be gone, he’d just go on with them.
That made me feel a lot better, but still—eight hours in a car with Carl Ray????
I do like to visit Aunt Radene, because they live on this great little farm with a cemetery in the front (they tell a lot of ghost stories) and a big hill in the back (with cows on it) and an enormous barn (with a loft full of hay) and the niftiest swimming hole in the world.
The bad part about visiting Aunt Radene is that not only is there no phone, but there also is no electricity and there is NO PLUMBING. That means outhouses and wells and stuff. Really.
But I don’t know how I can be away from Alex for a whole week.
Beth Ann called to say that she had talked to Christy, who said that the GGP is still considering her for membership, but that she would have to come to the next pajama party, which is next Saturday. And Beth Ann said that since Carl Ray and I would both be gone (she sounded real jealous when she heard I was going, but I told her that he was just my stupid cousin and I didn’t even want to go and it wasn’t going to be any fun and I would remind him of her every five minutes), she might as well go to the GGP pajama party. Just for the heck of it, she said.
I’m glad I’ll be gone.
Tuesday, July 24
My mother has forbidden me to use the following three words: “God,” “stupid,” and “stuff.” She said I needed to expand my vocabulary. It’s not easy eliminating those words all of a sudden. When she said that, I said, “Well, God!”
“Mary Lou!”
And then I said I had to go do the stupid dishes and she said, “Mary Lou!” and about two seconds later I said I was going to have trouble not saying God and stuff, and she said, “Mary Lou!” So I asked her what in the heck I was supposed to do with these big holes in my vocabulary all of a sudden, and she said, “Use the thesaurus.”
Right. So I spent about an hour combing the thesaurus, and here’s what I came up with:
God: deity, Lord, Jehovah, Providence, Heaven, the Divinity, the Supreme Being, the Almighty, the Omnipotent, the Infinite Being, Alpha and Omega, the
Absolute, King of Kings, etc. (There’s lots more.)
(I’m having trouble picturing me saying, “Oh, deity!” or “Oh, Omnipotent!” or “Oh, Alpha and Omega!” but I’ll give it a try.)
Stupid: foolheaded, asinine, buffoonish, apish, fatuous, witless, moronic, imbecile, batty, besotted, myopic, poppycockish, cockamamie, lumpish, oafish, boobish, beefbrained, chowderheaded, beetleheaded, cabbageheaded, etc.
(There are lots of words for stupid. I can’t believe my mother wants me to use some of these, but I’ll try. I practiced already: That witless ole Carl Ray! That beefbrained Christy! That cabbageheaded Beth Ann! Pretty good, eh?)
Stuff: material, constituents, sum and substance, nub, pith, quintessence, elixir, irreducible content.
(Well, sure. I can hear myself now. We all messed around and quintessence. He had all this elixir in his pocket. We went to the park and irreducible content. It doesn’t make a bit of sense, if you ask me.)
Not much elixir happened today. Alex had to work all day, so I stayed home, watched Tommy, read some more Odyssey, and quintessence.
Mrs. Furtz came over again, all crying and nub, about some cabbageheaded letter she got. I don’t know what she was going on about. I do feel sorry for her and all, I really do, but Omnipotent! She realllllly gets to sobbing and pulling at her hair.
Alex and I are going out tomorrow night and Thursday night before our Separation. Oh, sob.
The only good thing about Carl Ray going out with Beth Ann is that after dinner he splashes on about a gallon of besotted aftershave and runs (well, drives) over to Beth Ann’s (she lives a whole block away), and he doesn’t get back until about ten or eleven o’clock. Dad is happy because he finally gets his TV-watching chair back, and everybody else is happy because they can watch their own programs again.
I have a confession to make. I snooped around in Carl Ray’s room today. I don’t know what got into me, but I was vacuuming upstairs and I was looking at all these new bottles of aftershave (he has two bottles of Canoe; he must have heard how much Beth Ann loves it) on his dresser, and his top drawer was open a bit and I sort of peered in and then I guess I was wondering if he had all his money in there and I wanted to see if he had any left, so I opened the drawer.
Absolutely Normal Chaos Page 9