Parrotfish

by Ellen Wittlinger

  “Wow, what do you think happened there?” Sebastian said.

  “I don’t know. Can I go talk to her? Russ is here—the two of you can handle the cameras, can’t you?”

  “Sure—go!”

  The dance floor was packed by then, so I edged around the side of the room until I got to the table where Kita was still standing, chugging a ginger ale like it was Popeye’s spinach. Refueling. She smiled when she saw me approach, and I wished so much that she were my girlfriend, that hugging and kissing her could be my normal greeting.

  “Hey! I was looking for you,” she said.

  “I saw you from across the room. What did you say to Danya?”

  “I’ll tell you if you dance with me.”

  The band segued into a slow number and Kita put out her arms. Oh, Lord. “I don’t know how to dance,” I said, my voice as quivery as my legs. “Especially, you know, as a boy.”

  “I think it’ll come naturally,” she said, placing her left hand on my shoulder and taking my left hand in her right.

  “See?” she said. “Easy.”

  Having Kita’s body that close to mine was anything but natural, and yet it felt right. Kids on all sides of us turned to stare, of course, but Kita didn’t seem to notice or care. We weren’t all snuggled up like a real couple, but our feet seemed to move together to the music, no stumbling or stepping on toes. In fact, dancing with Kita was the closest I was ever likely to come to walking on water.

  “So,” she said. “You want to know what I told Danya?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, first I told her that I thought she was a horrible bitch, but I think she’s proud of that. So then I said that if I ever heard of her even trying to hurt you again, or to hurt any of your friends, or any of my friends, or anybody at all who couldn’t hurt her back, I would personally hunt her down and pull every strand of her ugly yellow hair out by the roots.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You did? What did she say?”

  “Oh, at first she tried to argue that she wasn’t the only person who didn’t like you. She seems to think she was performing a public service, the idiot.”

  “She isn’t the only one, Kita. You know that.”

  “Maybe, but she’s the only one who acted on it.”

  “So far.”

  She pulled back to look into my eyes. “Grady, don’t say that!”

  “I’m just being realistic.”

  “Well, don’t be. Be optimistic.”

  I was dancing with Kita Charles—if that couldn’t make me optimistic, nothing could. “If you say so. After all, you’re the one who scared off the big bully for me. My hero. Or heroine.”

  “I don’t know what finally got to her. Apparently, her so-called friends wised up and dumped her, so maybe I was just the last straw. I’m glad to know she actually has feelings. That she’s not really an escapee from Night of the Living Dead.”

  “Yeah, that would be cause for optimism.”

  The music kicked into a crazy fast number and, reluctantly, I pulled away from Kita. “I’m no good at this stuff. Anyway, I should get back to the cameras—”

  “Grady!” Kita’s smile faded a little. “Before you go back, could we talk a minute?”

  “Sure.” Wasn’t that what we’d been doing?

  “Out here,” she said, pulling me around the corner and into the entrance hall, where the band noise was less deafening. What was this about? I turned around to see if Russ had noticed, but he was talking to Sebastian. What would I say to him? Would he be mad at me? Not that anything had happened to make him mad. Yet.

  Kita leaned against the wall, and I stood in front of her, in a perfect position for another kiss.

  “Grady,” she said, her voice soft and musical. “You know how much I like you, don’t you?”

  How do you answer a question like that? “I—I hope so,” I mumbled. “I like you too, Kita.”

  “I think you’re a wonderful person. Interesting and funny and cute as hell. And you’re the nicest . . .” She stopped talking, and her eyes seemed to be pleading with me, but I had no idea what they were asking for. “The thing is, Grady, I made up with Russell. We’re back together again.”

  I think my head may actually have bounced backward from the blow. “Oh,” was all I could say.

  Kita took my hand in both of hers. “I don’t know if it was the right thing to do or not. I feel really confused about all of this. I mean, if Russell weren’t in the picture, I would definitely want to be with you, Grady. But Russ is in the picture, and I can’t just walk away from him.” She sighed. “Especially now, when he’s apologized to me so sweetly. He says he wants to try to be a better boyfriend, more respectful of me, and I believe him. I have to at least give him a second chance.”

  I nodded. “I guess you do,” I said, even though my brain was screaming, No you don’t! My actual feeling was, well, dizziness. In the course of a few minutes I’d found out that Kita had been interested in being my girlfriend, and that the possibility of it actually happening was already over. Apparently, I’d lost the game before I even knew I was playing in it.

  “Grady?” Kita said. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure,” I said, trying to keep my eyes from looking into hers.

  She caught them anyway. “I just want you to know that this has nothing to do with what you’re going through. I would be crazy about you no matter what gender you were. You believe that, don’t you?”

  I nodded. I did believe her, but what difference did it make now? She’d chosen Russ.

  “I really hope we can still be friends, because I don’t want to lose you,” she said. When her lips approached mine, I turned my head and they sideswiped my cheek. But that was involuntary; I would still rather have kissed Kita than do anything else on earth. Obviously, my neck muscles had more pride than I did.

  I headed back to the cameras, keeping my eyes on my feet, which were no longer walking on water.

  Russ looked up as I approached. “Kita tell you the good news?” he asked.

  For a second I forgot that Russ didn’t know my side of the story. “What?”

  “We’re back together! Thanks to you, buddy. I owe you one.” He held out his hand for me to shake, and I did.

  It was impossible not to like Russ, even when he was going out with the girl of your dreams. “Watch it with the macho hand-shaking,” I warned as he pumped my arm.

  He laughed. “Right. Hey, you mind if I go dance with my girlfriend?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “I just danced with her myself.”

  “You beat me!” he said good-humoredly, unaware that in fact he had beaten me. Soundly.

  Sebastian was headed in my direction, no doubt to hear what had happened with Kita. I wished I could put off telling him. The whole truth—and nothing but the truth—was lying on my chest like a big rock.

  But just then Eve came running toward both of us, sliding in her golden slippers, breathless.

  “You will not believe what I just saw in the girls’ bathroom! Danya is lying on the couch in there, sobbing hysterically. She’s cried off all her makeup, and there’s green eye shadow smeared on her dress! She’s having a complete meltdown!”

  “Wow,” Sebastian said. “You wanna take a camera in there and get some footage?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, which was fine because I had some work to do: tweaking the Christmas Eve script one last time and doing some research online for Charlie’s gift. Now that we were friends again, Eve wanted to come too, especially when I told her I was pretty sure it would be our last performance, so I had to add a few lines for her to say. I also had to figure out a few more gifts for people. Something inexpensive, or possibly free, for Eve and Mom and Aunt Gail, because I knew I might have to spend most of my money on Charlie this year. I’d already gotten stuff for Sebastian and Laura (they were easy to buy for), and I’d found Dad’s gift—the perfect, and perfectly free, gift—two weeks ago. I
was doing my gift-giving during the public observance of Christmas this year, not the next day, because this year that was going to be the most important celebration, at least for me.

  But having stuff to do didn’t keep me from running through my hallway scene with Kita over and over again in my mind. What she’d said. The way she’d looked. The feeling of her hands caressing mine. Was there anything I could have said or done to reverse the final outcome? I reminded myself that Russ had blown his first chance with her; maybe he’d be no better the second time around. Of course, now he had his good friend Grady to come to for advice.

  RUSS: Kita says I’m acting like a big macho pig and she’s sick of me! What should I do, Grady? Help me!

  GRADY: Show that woman who’s boss, Russ. Don’t let her insult your manhood. Pick her up, throw her over your shoulder, and give her a good smack on the butt. That should bring her around. [twirling his evil mustache] Around to dumping you, that is!

  But I didn’t feel too bad about what had happened with Kita, or at least I didn’t feel all bad. If somebody as great as Kita liked me, I figured eventually there would be other girls who would too. And besides, I had four friends now: Sebastian, Eve, Kita, and Russ. I’d never had four friends in my entire life! Four friends was a group, a crowd, a posse.

  I managed a few hours of sleep and stumbled downstairs around eight in the morning to find Mom standing over the sink, manhandling a frozen turkey.

  “You’re up!” we said to each other simultaneously.

  “Well, just barely,” Mom grumbled. “I still feel terrible, but I forgot to defrost this damn turkey yesterday. It’s too big to fit in the microwave—I’m going to have to soak it all day. I’ll never get it cooked by five thirty.” She picked it up and dropped it into a sink full of warm water, sending a small tsunami across the countertop. “And I haven’t even gotten to the store yet to buy the other stuff, the potatoes and green beans and—”

  “I have to go out later anyway. Make a list and I’ll pick stuff up.”

  “Oh, honey, would you? I don’t know how much of this celebration I’m going to be able to manage today.”

  “Mom, leave the turkey in the sink. I’ll get Laura and Charlie to help me make dinner. Dad, too.”

  She gave me a terrified look.

  “Well, okay, not Dad. But the rest of us should be able to do it. How much work can it be to make some mashed potatoes and green beans?”

  “And the pudding. Don’t forget the pudding.” But she was heading for the stairs already, gladly handing it over to me.

  “And pudding. I won’t forget.” I had no idea how you made pudding, or even green beans, for that matter—Mom had always done all the cooking, and I’d paid no attention—but there must be a book somewhere in the kitchen that would tell me.

  “Just call me if you need anything,” Mom said, her voice disappearing back into the bedroom.

  An hour later, just as I was about to nod off into a pile of cookbooks, Laura appeared, in an extremely sunny mood. Jason must have lived up to expectations.

  “Mom gave me a list of stuff for you to buy for dinner,” she said, dropping the list on the table. “She said we’re doing the cooking. That’ll be fun!”

  I yawned and forced myself to wake up. “I found out how you roast a turkey. And mashed potatoes and green beans are easy enough. But I don’t know how to do the pudding. How do you make pudding?”

  Laura made that face with which she silently calls me a moron. “You open a couple of those little square boxes, add milk, and stir.”

  “It comes in boxes?”

  “God, Grady, have you ever been in a kitchen before? This is a refrigerator. That’s a stove.”

  “Okay, okay. As long as you know how to do it.” I grabbed the list. “I’ll get this stuff. You keep working on defrosting the turkey. You have to change the water to keep it warm.”

  She poked the lump in the sink. “It’s hard as a rock!”

  “I know. The recipe says a turkey this size has to cook for four hours. Which means it should go into the oven around one o’clock.”

  “What if it isn’t thawed out?”

  I shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to put it in anyway. Won’t it thaw out in the oven?”

  “How should I know? I’ve never cooked a turkey.”

  “Well, I don’t know what else to do,” I said. “I’m going to be gone for a couple of hours, so—”

  “A couple of hours? Where are you going?”

  “Before I go to the store, I have one more present to buy, and I have to go to Connecticut to get it.” I was so excited about my find that I sort of wanted to tell Laura about it, but I was afraid she couldn’t be trusted not to blab it to everybody else before I got back.

  “Connecticut? They don’t sell this thing in Massachusetts? Are you crazy?”

  “Probably.”

  “Do Mom and Dad know you’re doing this?”

  “No. When Dad comes down, just tell him I had some last-minute errands to do, okay? Could you please try to keep this small secret?”

  “Tell me what you’re getting in Connecticut.”

  “Can’t. It’s a surprise.”

  “For me?” That idea got her a little excited.

  “Well, not exactly, but in a way. In a way, it’s for all of us.”

  She frowned and turned back to the turkey. “Secrets are stupid.”

  “So,” I said, “did you have fun at the dance?”

  Her features unclouded, and a look of serenity settled over her face. “All I can say is: Oh. My. God.”

  “Hold that thought,” I said, then grabbed the car keys and made my escape before another family member woke up.

  It took longer to find the place in Connecticut than I thought it would, and longer to negotiate with the people in charge. At first my story didn’t satisfy them, but I pled my case until we finally came to an agreement, and, after settling my gift into the backseat, I was on my way.

  By the time I did the grocery shopping and got back, pulling the car into the garage and closing the door behind me as quickly as possible, it was almost one o’clock. I could hear the pandemonium before I opened the door.

  “Finally!” Laura shrieked when I walked in. She and Charlie and the entire kitchen floor were all soaking wet from using the faucet sprayer on the turkey, and obviously on each other, too. “Where have you been? I preheated the oven, like the recipe said to, but this stupid turkey is still frozen!”

  Dad came in from the dining room. “Oh, there you are, Grady. How does your mother set the table? Does the fork go on the left or the right?”

  “Left, I think,” I said, squinting my eyes and trying to visualize it. On a normal evening we were lucky if somebody managed to get the silverware matched up to a plate, much less on the correct side of it. “Is Mom still in bed?”

  He nodded. “I think we should let her sleep until the last minute so she can enjoy the evening. I’m sure she’ll be feeling better by five o’clock.”

  Always the optimist. Kita would like Dad.

  “Would somebody please tell me what to do with this turkey?” Laura yelled.

  “Let’s throw it out and buy a different one,” Charlie said.

  “Now, now,” Dad said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Why don’t you just dry it off and stick it in the oven? Just turn the oven up a little higher than it says to in the book—that’ll probably do it.”

  I wasn’t sure he was right about that, but what choice did we have? And then I saw Dad head for the garage door.

  “Where are you going?” I cried, jumping in front of him.

  He backed up, surprised. “Well, since I’m not doing too well in the dining room, I thought I’d bring in the wood for the fireplaces for tonight.”

  “I’ll do that!” I said. “Don’t go out there, okay?”

  “Why not?”

  “Grady, you have to help me with this turkey,” Laura said. “Charlie already dropped it once.”

  “That
wasn’t my fault,” Charlie said. “You threw it at me!”

  I stood in front of the door, my arms out at my sides. “Okay!” I said. “I’ll tell you all this much. There is something in the garage that I don’t want anyone to see until the performance tonight. It’s a surprise. If you go out there now, the whole thing will be ruined!”

  Laura rolled her eyes. “And you say I’m overdramatic.”

  “What is it?” Charlie asked.

  Laura glared at him. “You dumbo, didn’t you hear him? If it’s a surprise, why would he tell you what it is? Besides, it’s just something weird he had to go to Connecticut to get.”

  Thank you, Laura.

  Charlie wrinkled his nose. “Connecticut? What do they have in Connecticut that we don’t have in Massachusetts?”

  “All right,” Dad said, shushing them both. “I think we can all manage to wait a few hours to see what Grady’s surprise is. There’s plenty for us to do in here. You can bring in the wood, Grady—there’s a pile outside the back garage door.”

  “After he helps me get the turkey in the oven!” Laura demanded.

  “After you help Laura get the turkey in the oven,” Dad agreed. “And I’ll go back to setting the table. Does anybody know where we keep the napkins? Or the candlesticks? Or the dishes?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Laura and Eve were in their dresses before five o’clock. Dad, of course, had been wearing his outfit for hours. Sebastian fit surprisingly well into Charlie’s old Tiny Tim outfit and was enjoying using his cane as a sword with which to attack a pile of dirty socks cowering in the corner of my bedroom.

  Charlie and I were doing less well. Since Mom hadn’t been able to tailor any of Dad’s old outfits for us, we were trying to find anything we could in the costume box that came close to fitting. All the pants were far too long for Charlie, so he just left on his jeans—and, what the heck, his sneakers too—and wore a big gray shirt over the top that made him look more like a nineteenth-century prison inmate than Bob Cratchit’s kid. I could wear Dad’s pants, although they had to be belted at the waist and rolled at the ankles. With a tucked-in shirt, suspenders, and a too-large vest, I looked like a circus clown who’d lost his wig.