The Blueprint

by Jeannette Barron

  “That’s bullshit and you know it!” Dani shouted.

  Ms. Sweaney sprang from her chair, slammed her hands on her desk, and bellowed back. “You will show me respect!” Surprised by her own outburst, she took a deep breath, and sat down. Straightening the already perfectly stacked papers in front of her, she continued with a steadier voice, “From the little information I have about your upbringing, it appears you’re not accustomed to rules or routine. One of my many responsibilities includes disciplining those who cause trouble. I am willing to overlook your behavior from earlier today. However, be certain, Danielle that we have ways of dealing with trouble makers.”

  I could feel Dani fidgeting next to me and knew it was taking everything she had not to tell Ms. Sweaney exactly what she thought of her, her rules, and her routines.

  Ms. Sweaney rambled on about expectations. After counting fifteen different rules, I stopped listening. Unlike Dani, I didn’t go looking for trouble and most of the rules were common sense. I think I could have saved us all some time and summed things up with, do as you’re told. That’s the part Dani wasn’t so good at.

  Daddy said that it was just in my nature to keep the peace and not stir the pot. Like when he and Dani would get into it about her short skirts and bad attitude, I'd distract them with my Cher impersonation and get them laughing. Sonny and Cher were me and Dani’s favorite singers. One time when Daddy had enough money to get us a motel room for the night, we saw them perform on the Tonight Show and afterward I could imitate them pretty good. I changed my voice to low and husky and flipped my hair all around. While holding a pencil as my microphone, I belted out "I’ve Got You Babe." Then Daddy started singing Sonny’s part and before too long Dani joined in too. And everything would be okay until the next time they fought.

  And last time my momma stayed with us, I did extra chores. I kept my room super clean and made Momma my famous peanut butter and honey sandwiches for lunch. I figured if she didn’t have so much work to do maybe she’d stay longer. But when she left again, Daddy started drinking so I did what I could until he felt better too.

  I wondered if Momma could find us here. I hadn’t seen her in a year and that was the longest she’d ever been gone. Last time I saw her she was sitting at the dinner table with blood running out from under her skirt and grinning like she’d got the best present. I’m not sure which was worse, the blood or her smile. Daddy took her to the hospital but when he returned a couple of days later, she wasn’t with him. He told us she was okay; she just needed a break. And that’s when things got pretty bad for us. With Momma gone again, Daddy was sad, missed a lot of work, and lost his job. He couldn’t pay the rent and we had to move out of our house. We drove around looking for family or friends who could take us in. In January, we ran out of people he knew, and that’s when we started living in the station wagon.

  Since we weren’t settled, Dani and I didn’t go to school. Days that Daddy went looking for work, he’d drop us off at the community library. As long as we stayed quiet and kept away from the front desk, the librarians didn’t seem to mind us being there. Dani didn’t like being out of school. She told me over and over that the only way we were going to stop being poor is if we got an education. So when I’d get bored looking at books by myself, she’d pretend to be a teacher and make me write and do math. It was a good game because she was good at telling people what to do and I was good at following directions.

  Dani held my hand as Ms. Sweaney escorted us to our rooms. She explained while we walked that we’d be separated because of our ages. I’d have a bed in the room for girls six to eleven years old and Dani would sleep with the older girls. I didn’t like that idea one bit, and judging by the frown on Dani’s face she didn’t either. Because it was a school day, it was quiet except for the unhappy noises coming from the nursery. We arrived at my room first.

  Ms. Sweaney ordered, “Lillian, go find a vacant bed and wait for your roommates to return. It shouldn’t be long now.”

  She gave me a shove that had enough force behind it to separate my hand from my sister's. Dani mouthed, "I'll find you," as the door shut between us.

  2

  The room reminded me of the barracks Daddy talked about living in when he served in the Army. Two rows of mattresses lined up with their metal headboards to the wall with a center aisle and trunks at the end of each bed. The covers were the scratchy wool kind tucked tight all around. At the far end, I found two beds unmade with sheets and blankets at the ready. I knew which was mine, because Mrs. Jones had left me pajamas, extra clothes, and a butterscotch candy. After making the bed and placing my clothes in the trunk, I sat and waited. This was the first kid’s room I’d seen that didn’t have any stuffed animals or toys. There wasn’t a single thing that would make a person believe one kid lived here, and no way a dozen. I imagined my new roommates as miniature soldiers marching through the door with rifles resting on their shoulders and Ms. Sweaney shouting orders. I guessed it was best that I’d left my favorite teddy bear in the station wagon, because it didn’t look like it was welcome here.

  After sitting in the quiet with my disturbing daydreams, the rumble of kids returning jolted me back to reality. The girls came charging in, dumped their bags on their beds, and flopped themselves down. Everybody was talking at once and no one seemed to notice me. I sat statue still hoping my invisibility would last until I stopped feeling like I might puke.

  A small girl with bouncy blonde pigtails and fat blueberry eyes saw me first and skipped over. “Hi, I’m Kimmy and I’m eight.”

  “I’m Lily, and I’m ten.” That must have been the right answer because Kimmy got all excited.

  “Jenny will be ten this year and so will Karen and Amy. My birthday is in October and that’s just next month and then I’ll be nine. You get a cupcake with one candle in it on your birthday. I always lick the icing off before I eat the cake part. We walk to school. It’s not very far and…”

  Kimmy was a fast talker. I was trying my best to follow along as she rambled on about school and which bed was hers. Unfortunately, with Kimmy’s help, I quickly became the center of everyone’s attention.

  The biggest girl in the room with dark stringy hair, bushy eyebrows, and a permanent frown pushed her way through the spectators and stood over me. She shouted, “Shut up, Kimmy!" and shoved her aside. "I’m Lisa. I’m the oldest and in charge. If you don’t piss me off, I won’t have to beat you up. Any questions?”

  I shook my head no.

  Pleased with either my answer or her performance, Lisa strutted off to the other side of the room with her gang following close behind.

  Four girls remained, Kimmy, grinning but silent, and three others who could have been carbon copies of each other. They were all about the same size with ponytails and pink shirts. At first glance, the most noticeable difference between them was their hair color; one red, one brown, one blonde. Huddling in front of me, the girls whispered loudly about whether they should or shouldn’t ask me something. Then there was lots of nodding and big smiles. Finally, the redhead stepped toward me. ”Do you want to join our club? The rules are you have to be a girl, you have to be in fourth grade, you’ve got to wear your hair in a ponytail, and you have to wear the right color on the right day.”

  I’d never been in a club before, but I always wanted to. Kimmy looked so excited at the invitation you would’ve thought they were talking to her. Hesitating, I answered, “I want to be in your club. I really do, but I only have the blue shirt I’m wearing and the red shirt in my trunk, and my hair is too short for a ponytail.”

  The girls all looked at their shoes for an answer and then after what seemed like forever brown ponytail perked up. “I know what we can do! We can make the rule that girls with short curly hair don’t have to wear ponytails and tomorrow will be red shirt day. And that way you can be in the club, because today doesn’t count.” Everyone started bouncing and clapping in agreement like she’d picked the right door on the game show, Let’s Make a D
eal. Brown ponytail lit up with pride.

  But when Kimmy asked if they could change the rules to include third graders, the unanimous answer was, “No!”

  My new friends settled all around me on the bed and introduced themselves. Jenny had red hair and was peppered with millions of freckles that matched. Karen's long brown ponytail was dark and wet from her sucking on it. And Amy was blonde and sad even when she smiled. I found out later why.

  They went right to work teaching me the club’s secret handshake: three shakes, a squeeze, and a pinky clasp. Once I did the handshake correctly with each girl, I was officially a member. And my first job as a member was to help them find a new name for the club. Thanks to me, The Ponytail Club wasn’t going to work anymore. Going round and round with suggestions, it seemed we had very little in common besides the obvious things that allowed us to qualify for the club in the first place. I was beginning to think that even with my membership only twenty minutes old, I'd messed everything up. Then Karen plucked her slick hair from her mouth and announced, “I know! We can call ourselves The Butt Club!” Well that was the end of any real progress and before too long we were laughing so hard I forgot all about being scared.

  We were having such a good time that we didn’t see Ms. Sweaney enter the room. When she slammed the door, we looked up and she was heading right for us. Like mice, every girl scurried to their bed.

  She stopped in front of me and barked, “Lillian, you’ve only been here a few hours and already you’re making enough noise to wake the babies in the nursery." Shooting each girl with her bug eyes, she continued, "Since no one in this room has taken it upon themselves to explain my insistence on quiet, you will all have the opportunity to cover this topic in its entirety while you wash dishes tonight.”

  A group moan was the only reply as Ms. Sweaney stomped out.

  As soon as the door closed, Lisa crossed the room, got in my face, and growled, “Thanks a lot! I hate doing dishes almost as much as I hate scrubbing toilets. I told you not to piss me off." She poked me in the chest with a hotdog sized finger and warned, "Watch your back tonight ‘cause I always get even.”

  I sank to my bed shivering. Even when my new friends hurried over to comfort me and tell me what a big jerk Lisa was, it didn’t help. We all knew I didn’t have a chance against her. She was twice my size, at least. I needed to find my sister fast.

  My panic was interrupted by the dinner bell and my friends dragged me with them to get in line. We marched single file to the cafeteria where I was shaken from my stupor by the odor of sloppy joes and tater tots sopping my senses. Other than the clink of utensils hitting metal trays, there was silence. I spotted Ms. Sweaney supervising and understood. Even her employees followed the quiet rule. Sandwiched between Jenny and Karen, I followed their lead. After making our way through the food line, we found an open table for the four club members and Kimmy. Unfortunately, one table away sat Lisa and her posse. When our eyes met, she mouthed, “dead meat,” and took a huge bite.

  Jenny was sitting to my right and seeing what happened, she whispered, “Don’t worry. She won’t do anything with Ms. Sweaney around.”

  I knew I might be safe for now, but I also knew that there’s nothing worse than the anticipation of a beating. I was busy feeling sorry for myself, pushing food around my plate, watching tater tots float in a sloppy joe and peach juice gravy, when I heard a familiar voice behind me say, "Lily, that’s just gross. Stop playing around and eat that mess." Dani and three other girls her age had joined our table. I looked up at her busted lip and black eye and thought I’d never been so happy to see her.

  Relieved at having my sister close again, it took me a minute to realize every kid in the cafeteria was gawking at us. “Karen, what did I do wrong now? Why are you and everybody else looking at me that way?”

  She swallowed hard and answered, “Big girls never sit with the little girls.”

  “They do now,” Dani corrected. “I always look out for my little sis' and that’s not going to change just because we’re staying in this dump." She stared down at each of my new friends before returning her attention to me. "Lily, you look scared to death. Who’re these kids? Are they picking on you?”

  “No, these girls are my friends. They invited me to be in their club." Begging, I grabbed her wrist, "Don’t go and be mean to them!”

  “Hey, settle down. Ms. Meany is looking at us," she said between pinched lips. "Eat and act natural.” I did what she said until the danger had passed. Dani asked in a whisper, “What’s got you so upset?”

  “I was laughing too loud and broke Ms. Sweaney’s quiet rule. But instead of just punishing me she’s making all the girls from my room do dishes tonight. See that big girl with dark hair at the other table?”

  “The one who looks like a fat weasel?”

  Karen overheard and sprayed tater tot chunks all over the table. I shot her a horrified glare, but she, Jenny, and Amy were busy trying not to laugh and shaking and snorting instead. Aided by the only good luck of the day, Ms. Sweaney didn't swoop toward us.

  “Dani, you said it, not me, but yeah that’s her and she wants to beat my brains in for getting everybody in trouble.”

  Dani turned to her three friends and started asking questions. I couldn’t tell what was being said, but it appeared that no one doubted my story. Dani stood up, walked over, and sat down next to Lisa. That was enough to stop the girl’s laughing jag. My pulse rocketed. Dani was saying something in Lisa’s ear and Lisa was sitting stone still. Finishing by giving her a not-so-friendly whack between the shoulder blades, Dani got up, headed our way, and stepped right into Ms. Sweaney.

  “Danielle, what are you doing?" Although Ms. Sweaney stood a couple of inches taller than Dani, her brittle figure next to Dani's curvy one looked like the before and after picture of a girl grown into a woman. The director seemed to notice the contrast too and forced her body longer and stiffer which didn't help. "It’s against the rules to get up from your table until dinner is over.”

  In her sweetest voice, Dani replied, “I was just trying to make some new friends, Ms. Sweaney. I’m headed back to my table right now.”

  “I find it hard to believe that you’re interested in making friends with an eleven year old. Lisa, was Danielle bothering you?”

  Everyone but Dani looked at Lisa for an answer. Dani just smiled at the director with her biggest, most ornery smile. A grin I’d seen a thousand times.

  “It’s just like Dani said, she was just making friends,” Lisa said to her plate.

  “Well Danielle, consider this a warning about staying seated during meals. If it happens again, there will be consequences.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” was what Dani said with her mouth, but what she meant was screw you and every kid there heard it. She returned to her place next to me and ate as if nothing had happened. I could feel Ms. Sweaney’s eyes on us for the longest time as we pretended to enjoy our meal. As the commotion of clean-up began, Dani grabbed my hand and said, “Lisa won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  Thank goodness Dani was on my side. We’d only been here half a day and she’d already worked her spell over people. This wasn’t the first time she’d saved my behind. Plenty of times after Daddy dropped us off and went looking for work, Dani and I would run into bad kids who were ditching school while we wandered the town. One minute a big kid was in my face threatening to clobber me, and the next, Dani was rescuing me and joining them as their leader. Following her around, I’ve seen and heard some stuff I shouldn’t have. But I’ve learned to see trouble coming from a mile away, and more importantly, I’ve learned how to stay away from it. This place was different. There seemed to be too much trouble to dodge, and I felt like a target.

  Doing dishes wasn’t so bad; this was just one of many chores my group rotated through. But thanks to me, the girls had double duty this week. Everyone automatically formed an assembly line of washing, drying, and putting away and the job got done fast. Without Ms. Sweaney there to sup
ervise, the girls were relaxed and chatty. I got a chance to talk about how my daddy was coming back to get me in a couple of weeks, and my friends were real impressed. And then I heard their stories and felt terrible.

  Jenny’s parents died in a car accident when she was five and without other family members to take her in she ended up at the children’s home. She was in the accident too and proudly showed me the scar on her forehead. She had forgotten lots of stuff about her parents, but she could remember the perfume her momma wore, Chanel No. 5. Her momma bought it at some fancy department store, and would spritz some on every morning. Jenny would stand real close to her momma when she sprayed it and count to 30 so all the good smelling air could touch her too. She said when she grew up she was going to buy lots of it, so she could smell just like her momma did.

  Karen was taken to the home as a toddler and didn't know anything about her family. But she was sure her parents were famous because that would explain why she was so pretty. She was convinced Julie Andrews was her mother and Andy Williams was her father, but the week before she thought Elvis Presley was her father and Marilyn Monroe was her mother. When someone tried to explain all the reasons why the matches she came up with didn't work, Karen just shrugged it off and moved on to pairing up different famous people.

  It was Amy’s turn to tell her story, but she didn’t want to. Instead, Jenny and Karen filled me in when Amy walked off to put some pots away. Her parents were in jail charged with the murder of her baby brother. The day the police found her brother dead in his crib they examined Amy and found her back was covered with cigarette burns. She was four then and still has bad dreams. They told Amy’s story like it was no big deal, but I couldn’t decide if I was more sad or scared. Amy rejoined the assembly line but didn’t try to join the conversation even though we changed subjects as soon as we saw her coming back. I bet she knew the girls told me and wondered how I would respond. I knew why she looked so sad all the time and figured she didn’t need me adding to it. So I smiled at her and did my best to convince myself that how she got here didn’t matter.