Al(exandra) the Great: The Al Series, Book Four

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Al(exandra) the Great: The Al Series, Book Four Page 8

by Constance C. Greene


  “Of course, I don’t think my mother needs prayers said for her. I mean, she’s not that sick. She’s practically well. Still, I guess they can’t do any harm. You never know. She could have a relapse.”

  Al wound down. She stopped talking and sank back on my bed. It had been a weird day, in more ways than one.

  CHAPTER 19

  “So. How you two dudes doing anyhow?” Teddy said. “What’s happening?”

  Al and I looked at each other. She was making a list of things her mother wanted her to bring to the hospital this afternoon. Al asked me to go with her. She said probably Mr. Wright would be there, and she didn’t want to go alone. “Maybe you’ll make him less cheerful,” she told me. I didn’t quite know how to take that, so I let it alone.

  “Get him,” Al said to me.

  “Don’t give me no flak,” Teddy growled. “I’m not taking no flak from nobody.”

  “Ted, when you left,” Al said, “you were a sweet, lovely nine-year-old kid. Now you’re making like a Kung Fu expert. What happened?”

  Teddy grinned. He was delighted at the attention. He feeds on attention. In order to keep the kid in line, it’s best to keep a foot firmly in the middle of Teddy’s back.

  “You talk that way in front of Mom and Dad?” I said.

  “That’s the way the kids up in Connecticut talk,” he said. “They talk tough. They say, ‘Don’t give me no flak.’ They say other stuff I can’t tell you, though.” He gave us a dark look.

  “What’s ‘flak’ mean?” Al asked.

  “Who cares? It’s the way you say things that counts. There’s this kid named Mike. He lives next door in Connecticut. He’s older—about fourteen, I think. He gets into a lot of trouble. The police are always coming to Mike’s house,” Teddy announced, full of pride. “He rips stuff off from the five-and-ten. Then once he put sugar in a guy’s gas tank. If you put sugar in a gas tank, the car won’t go. Bet you didn’t know that!” Teddy crowed.

  “Sounds like you got home just in time, Ted,” Al said. “You might’ve landed in the pokey yourself.”

  “It just so happened that when Mike was putting sugar in the gas tank,” Teddy went on, “the guy who owned the car was looking out the window and saw him. So the police car pulled up in front of Mike’s house one more time,” he ended with relish. He grinned at us as if he’d been the one who’d put the sugar in the gas tank. “There’s lots more things Mike did,” Teddy said. “Lots more I could tell you.”

  Al put her hand over her heart. “Spare me,” she said. “She said to bring stationery, because she has lots of thank-you letters to write,” she told me. “Your mother and father sent her some beautiful flowers. One reason I want you to come with me today is that my mother wants to see you. To thank you.”

  “For what?” Teddy said.

  “For having me here,” Al said.

  Teddy squinted at her. “You staying here?” he said. “You sleeping over?” His narrow face was sharp and watchful. Teddy keeps score on how many friends I have to sleep over versus how many he has. He thinks I have more. He’s right. But I’m older.

  “Yes,” Al said. “I’m sleeping over.” She sounded sad.

  “How long?” Teddy said.

  “I don’t know. Maybe a few more nights.”

  He turned to me. “I thought she was going to the farm,” he said accusingly.

  “Did she say she wanted bath powder?” I said hurriedly. “Or was it face powder?”

  “Aren’t you going to the farm, Al?” Teddy, once wound up, is hard to stop. “That’s what you told me. You said you were going to a barn dance and have homemade ice cream and …”

  The kid can hardly remember his own name most days.

  “Shut up,” I told him.

  Teddy looked hurt. “She told me that. I didn’t make it up. Did I, Al? You said you were going to have a fiddler at the dance and have home …”

  I beaned Teddy on the head with my tennis racket. Not hard. It’s practically brand-new. Just a little tap. The way he hollered and carried on, you’d have thought I killed him. He flopped on the floor, clutching his head and screaming. If he could’ve figured out a way to create some instant blood, he would’ve. My mother came into the room and looked at us both.

  “Stop that racket,” she snapped. “I’m ashamed of you both. Can’t you get along for more than ten minutes? Get up off the floor, Teddy.”

  “She hit me!” Teddy cried. “I wasn’t doing anything, and she bopped me on my head.”

  After my mother had gone, I said through clenched teeth, “How come when you get home trouble starts? How come?”

  “Let’s see, Ted.” Al studied his head as if she were reading a map. “You’re fine. Not even a lump. You’ll survive.”

  “I was going to tell you more stuff Mike did,” Teddy said, somewhat mollified. “Now I don’t think I will.”

  Al put her arm around him. She’s very good with Teddy. He likes Al. She doesn’t have to live with him. There are times when I think being an only child is a neat thing. I must remember to tell Al that.

  “Don’t be a sorehead, Ted,” she said, laughing.

  “Well.” Teddy considered. “We went to Compo Beach on our bikes, and Mike showed us how to find the knotholes in the bathhouses so we could look in at girls undressing.”

  “Yeah?”

  Teddy’s crafty little eyes darted from Al’s face to mine and back to hers.

  “I’d rather put sugar in gas tanks,” he said.

  “You would?”

  “Sure. If you have a sister, seeing a naked girl is no big deal. Mike doesn’t have any sisters, so he thinks it is.”

  I grabbed my tennis racket. “You little weasel!” I shouted, but Teddy was already gone.

  CHAPTER 20

  “I’ll wait outside,” I said when we got to the hospital that afternoon. I would’ve been glad to stand on the street while I waited. I know lots of kids who want to be doctors. Not me. The hospital smell gets to me every time.

  “You’ve got to at least come up with me so my mother can thank you,” Al said. “You don’t have to hang around if you don’t want to.” So we each got a card from the admissions office and went up in the elevator.

  “I might be in the way,” I said, hanging back when we got to Al’s mother’s room. She pushed me in ahead of her.

  “Hello, dear! How nice to see you!” Al’s mother said gaily. There was a man sitting in the only chair. He got up as we came in. Oh, oh, I thought. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, and four’s one too many.

  “This is Mr. Wright,” Al said. We shook hands. He beamed down at me. He wasn’t anything like what I expected. He had a jolly round face and his head was freckled and shiny where no hair grew. If he hadn’t had on a three-piece suit, he might’ve passed for a bus driver, I thought.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you and your family,” he told me. “And about how kind you’ve been to Alexandra.”

  I smiled and tried not to look too wimpy. Sometimes compliments are hard to handle. Mr. Wright wasn’t anything like Ole Henry Lynch, Al’s mother’s former beau.

  I went over and kissed Al’s mother. Rather, she kissed me. “How are you, dear?” she said. She had dark circles under her eyes and she had lost weight. But otherwise she looked O.K.

  “Well, Virginia, I know you want to be alone with these two girls,” Mr. Wright said. “So I’ll wend my way out. Don’t bother seeing me to the door,” and he laughed at his own joke. “Doesn’t she look first-rate?” he said to Al. “Your mother has weathered the storm. She has come through like a trooper. Get those roses back in her cheeks in jig time. That’s the ticket. Get the roses back. Good-bye, Virginia,” and Al and I looked on as he gave Al’s mother’s cheek a little peck. Like a chicken going after grain.

  When he’d gone, Al’s mother closed her eyes and leaned back against her pillow.

  “Are you O.K., Ma?” Al asked anxiously. “Want me to get you a drink of water or anything? Maybe we should go,
” she said to me.

  “No, don’t go right this minute.” She opened her eyes. “Bill’s a dear, really he is. It’s just that he wears me out telling me how wonderful I look when I don’t feel wonderful. When he’s here, I feel as if I had to be cheerful all the time, and it takes something out of me. That’s all.”

  Al went and stood by the bed. “I called Dad and Louise and told them I wouldn’t be coming right away,” she told her mother. “They said fine, I could come later.” Her voice was without expression. No one would’ve known how much that telephone conversation had cost her.

  Tears came to her mother’s eyes. I was embarrasssd. I wanted to leave, but my feet stayed where they were.

  “I’m proud of you, Alexandra,” her mother said. “The way you’ve stood by me. The way you gave up your trip. I know how much you wanted to go. I know how hard it must’ve been for you. I remember how important things like that were at your age.”

  “Hey, Ma!” Al said. “That’s what daughters are for. For their poor old mothers to lean on, right?” She tried to make a joke out of it, but both her and her mother’s eyes were full of tears. I was on the verge of sneaking out and leaving them alone when Al’s mother turned to me and said, “You’re a nice child. I’m glad Alexandra has you for a friend.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  Al’s mother kept smiling at us.

  “You are two lovely girls,” she said. “Two very nice people. And you’ve made me very proud.” For no reason at all, Mr. Richards popped into my mind. I wondered if he’d popped into Al’s.

  The nurse bustled in. “Time for our rest,” she cried. I wondered if she was going to hop into bed alongside Al’s mother and take a rest with her. “Oh, my, haven’t we had a lot of visitors this afternoon! And look at all the gorgeous flowers! We certainly did ourselves proud today!”

  When we were leaving, Al promised her mother she’d be back tomorrow.

  “Tell your mother and father how much I appreciate all they’ve done,” Al’s mother said to me. “For Al and me. I’ll write to them later. I can never repay them for their kindness.”

  I said I’d tell them. And we left.

  CHAPTER 21

  That night Al pushed her dinner around on the plate. Then she asked to be excused from the table. “I don’t feel so hot,” she said. “My stomach feels peculiar. Maybe if I lie down I’ll feel better.”

  “How about some bicarbonate of soda?” my mother suggested. Al made a face. She hates bicarbonate of soda.

  “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”

  After dessert my father said he was going to play poker with his friends at Mr. Alvord’s in 14 F.

  “I feel lucky tonight,” he said, kissing my mother. “If I win the pot, I might even spring for another night on the town. Keep your fingers crossed, girls.”

  I asked my mother if she felt like a game of Monopoly. If worse came to worst, we could always let Teddy play. It’s better with more people. Except he always breaks down and kicks the chair and snuffles like he’s coming down witn a cold when he doesn’t get Boardwalk. Teddy is a very poor loser.

  “Not tonight,” she said. “I can’t concentrate on all those big real estate deals when it’s this hot. Let’s talk. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Al’s mother said she can never repay you and Dad for your kindness,” I said. “When we went to see her this afternoon, that’s what she said.”

  “I’m sure she would do the same if I needed her,” my mother said. “Bread cast upon the waters. How is she? How did she look?” So I told her about Al’s mother getting teary when she told Al she was proud of her for standing by her. I told her about Mr. Wright depressing Al’s mother with his cheerfulness. I also told her about the nurse saying, “We certainly did ourselves proud today.” My mother likes to hear these little details.

  “Poor woman, she’s been through a bad time,” my mother said. Then I told her about going out to the restaurant with Al and Dad. I told her what we’d had to eat, about the cute waiter, about the kid at the next table with her father and his girl friend. And that the kid wanted to know where my mother was, and I thought she thought my mother was off somewhere getting a divorce and that I was lying when I said my mother was in Connecticut. My mother got a good laugh out of that.

  “That was nice of you to share your father with Al,” she said. “I can remember, when I was your age, going somewhere alone with my father, which didn’t happen very often, was a special thing.”

  I told her what Al had said, thanking me for making room for her. “I thought that was nice of her to say that,” I said. “Dad was terrific. He even told Al it wouldn’t have been as nice without her there. That’s what he said when she thanked him. I must admit I thought that was going overboard a little,” I said. “It would’ve been perfect with just him and me, but that’s what he said. I didn’t mind too much. I knew what he meant.”

  “Your father is a very kind man,” my mother said. “I’m sure he had a pretty good idea of what Al was going through, what with her mother in the hospital and her having to postpone her trip. That must’ve been a tough decision to make.”

  “I bet she’ll never forget that night,” I said. “I know I won’t.”

  “Your father told me he’d never enjoyed the company of two young women so much,” my mother said.

  “He did? He really said that? He called us women?”

  She nodded. “He did. And he also said he was proud of you and the way you helped Al over the rough spots. He said you were made of good stuff and that he was proud you were his daughter.”

  I was flabbergasted.

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” I said.

  “Because that’s not his way. He would tell me but not you. I thought I’d pass it along.”

  Long after I’d gone to bed I thought about that Al’s mother was proud of her for the way she’d stood by her Now my father was proud of me for the way I’d acted. Boy That was pretty nice. I tried to remember if my father had ever been proud of me before. I don’t think he ever had. At least if he had been, I didn’t know about it.

  The next morning Al was already out of bed when I woke up. She was in the kitchen getting breakfast for everybody.

  “I’m keeping busy today,” she told me grimly. “So I won’t think what day it is.”

  It was the day she was supposed to go to the farm. Right this minute she should be taxiing down the runway on her way to the farm, the barn dance, the homemade ice cream, never mind Louise, the boys, her father. And Brian. That was a lot of stuff to give up.

  Then Al’s mother called. She was thrilled. A man she knew in Small Appliances had heard she was sick, and he had called her to offer her the use of his beach cottage on the Jersey Shore. He and his wife were going to Toledo to see their grandson. So she and Al could go there after she got out of the hospital. Wasn’t that great?

  “Yeah, that’s great,” Al muttered. “But I know her. Give her a shot of sea air and she’ll start making noises about going back to work. I’m going to have to crack the whip, tell her what she can and can’t do for a while. You’ve got to watch her.”

  “That’s neat,” I said. “You’ll have a real vacation.” I tried not to sound wistful. She gave me a piercer.

  “Maybe you could come along with us,” Al said. “I’ll ask.” I thought about that. I would love to go to the Jersey Shore. But not this time. This was Al’s time for her to get to know her mother better, to take care of her and for them to relax, just the two of them. I knew I’d be in the way. People have to have time to themselves. Last week I wouldn’t have known that. It seemed to me I’d matured a lot in a few days. I have to live up to my father’s pride in me.

  “Don’t ask her,” I said to Al. “Don’t put her on the spot. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “What wouldn’t be fair?” Teddy hung around, watching us.

  “Why don’t you go play with your friend Hubie?” I said. I hate it when he hangs around with his mouth
hanging open like that.

  “Hubie’s away.” Teddy picked at a scab on his knee until part of it came off. He ate the part he’d pulled off.

  “Stop that!” I shouted. “That’s disgusting!”

  “You ever eat a scab?” he said nonchalantly. “It doesn’t taste bad. Sort of like fried chicken. Not the kind your mother makes. The kind you eat at home. I mean the kind you buy at a fried chicken restaurant.”

  “Nice, Ted,” Al said. “Very nice.”

  “All it is is your own dried skin,” Teddy said, chewing. “Hubie asked me to visit him.”

  I turned. “When?”

  “Next week. His mother said he could have a friend and he picked me. I just got home and now I’m off again.” Teddy lifted both hands, palms up, and smiled complacently at us.

  “Close your mouth,” I ordered. “You’ll catch a lot of flies that way. They might get stuck in your throat and you’d strangle to death.”

  “Hubie’s house is right on the ocean,” Teddy said in a sugary voice. “All we do is fall out of bed and onto the beach and into the ocean.”

  I bugged my eyes out as far as they’d go and still stay in their sockets.

  “You mean where they have those enormous waves? And those man-eating sharks? That ocean?”

  Teddy ducked his head and sucked nervously on what was left of his scab.

  “And that undertow!” I cried. “I’ve heard tales of that undertow, how it can pull an experienced swimmer miles down the beach. How it takes people out to the middle of the ocean, practically to Portugal. I wonder if Mom knows about that undertow. If she knew, she probably wouldn’t let you go. I better go tell her,” and I started toward the door.

  “Quit it!” Teddy howled. “You’re just jealous! If someone asked you to go to the ocean, boy, I bet you’d break a leg getting there. That’s all you are is jealous.” He left in a huff.

  He hadn’t been gone more than a couple of seconds when I said in a loud voice, “You never did tell me what an all-in-one is, Al. Or a C-H-A-S-T-I-T-Y belt either.”

  There are two things you can be sure of when it comes to Teddy. One is that he’s out there eavesdropping. Two is that when you spell a word out, he’s absolutely sure it’s something he’s not supposed to know. That gives him fits. I figured it was time for him to have a few fits. Going away twice in one month while I sat home twiddling my thumbs.

 

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