“Easy there, sonny.” The policeman grabbed Dave’s arm.
The manager’s face was contorted with rage. “Get out,” he said between clenched teeth. “Get out and stay out—the two of you. You”—he pointed his finger at Dave—“I’ve had trouble with you before. Get your pickup out of here.”
“Take that back!”
Sue whirled at the new voice. There was Ricky, eyes aflame. “Take it back,” he shouted again. “It’s like she said. I saw the woman take her seat. What’s she supposed to do? Sit in her lap?”
“Get out!” the manager sputtered. “You, too. I run a decent movie house. Get out, the three of you—before I charge you with disturbing the peace.”
Sue felt the blood drain from her face. He wouldn’t listen. He’d never listen. She turned to the policeman. “My friends,” she said desperately. “I’ve got to tell them first. . .” She stopped, her eyes staring across the lobby. There, at the ladies’ dressing-room door, stood Mrs. Cannon. How long had she been there? How much had she heard? This was like a nightmare—a horrible dream. Only she was awake, living it through. Mrs. Cannon caught Sue’s glance and came over.
“I’ll tell them,” she said, and her tone was sugar-sweet. “You were with Cathy and Ellen, weren’t you?”
Sue detected a gleam of delight in Mrs. Cannon’s eyes. She looked like a cat with a saucerful of cream. Sue nodded—yes, it was Cathy and Ellen she’d come with—how long ago?
“All right, kids, on your way.” The policeman guided Dave and Ricky to the door. Sue followed.
“Punks,” she heard the manager say. “Delinquents.”
“You poor man.” Mrs. Cannon was sympathizing. “This modern generation—birds of a feather——”
The door closed behind them, and Sue shivered in the night air. They stood under the bright lights of the marquee. The street was deserted. Dave and Ricky glared at each other in thin-veiled disgust.
“Well, hero,” said Dave, “if you hadn’t been so nosy, you wouldn’t be here.”
“And if it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t be here,” said Ricky. “I’ll walk you home, Sue.”
“I will,” stated Dave.
Sue looked from one to the other. Her stomach churned. This was so horrible. She felt so tainted, so humiliated. This was the kind of stuff that got into papers. Dad . . . Mom . . . why hadn’t she stayed with Cathy and Ellen? Why was she standing out here? Because of a couple of boys. Boys! She hated the creatures.
“It’s up to you, Sue,” Ricky said. “Who’ll walk you home?”
Sue’s humiliation changed to fury. “Walk each other home,” she stormed. “I’m going to call my dad.”
She turned on her heel and walked with quick steps to the corner drugstore, digging in her pockets for the dime.
6.
The Summons
A new day. A new week. Sue slipped quietly into her seat and listened while Mr. Henderson took the attendance. He closed the book, rose, and walked casually to Sue’s desk.
“Here,” he said. “Report at recess.”
She looked at the slip of paper. This was the first summons Sue had ever received. She was to see Mr. Mack in his office. Students commonly regarded a summons with dread, but she had done nothing to worry about-broken no school regulation.
In fact, now, as she studied the summons, she knew exactly why Mr. Mack wanted her. She’d applied for traffic duty weeks before. This was to tell her when to report—and what corner she would have. She felt tingly with anticipation. How she needed those traffic points for the coveted Block T. Scholarship, citizenship, glee, band, orchestra, after-school sports—they all counted for points. Sue had quite a few accumulated, what with both orchestra and glee. But she needed a half dozen more to be sure.
The minutes passed quickly as Sue worked out her algebra. Today’s ratios were much easier than the area problems they had to solve with “pi” involved. When the recess bell rang, she was out of her seat before it stopped. She raced down the corridor.
“Hey!” Cathy grabbed Sue’s arm. “Where’s the fire?”
“Cathy!” Sue beamed. “Just think! Mr. Mack’s calling me into his office—to put me on traffic.”
“Lucky!” Cathy released her hold. “No wonder you were rushing. All those points!”
When she entered Mr. Mack’s office, he was talking on the phone. He motioned her to a chair. Sue sat back and relaxed. This was a moment to enjoy—the appointment would sort of make up for Friday’s unpleasantness. But Dad had been swell about picking her up. He even drove Ricky and Dave home. And then, at home in the living room, he’d listened sympathetically to Sue’s story. Mom got pretty angry when Sue told how the manager had called her a pickup. But by the time Dad got through explaining the manager’s responsibilities—and how he was probably driven to saying things he really didn’t mean—Sue felt almost sorry for the man. Almost, but not quite. She couldn’t erase the feeling of humiliation she had every time she recalled the ugly scene in the lobby. This appointment was just what she needed—to bolster her self-esteem, and to really please Mom and Dad. Golly, but they were swell people.
“Sue.”
She sat up straight. “Yes, Mr. Mack.”
“Have you any idea why I’ve called you to the office?”
Should she play dumb, Sue wondered, or straightforward? Honesty was the best policy. “Yes, Mr. Mack, I do.” Sue flashed him her best smile. “I’ve looked forward to it for so long. It’s just exactly what I want to do. All those points, too.”
“What?” Mr. Mack looked puzzled. “Do what, Sue?”
Sue laughed. Dad had told her she had a bad habit of backing into a subject. That’s just what she’d been doing now. “Why, be on traffic, Mr. Mack.”
Mr. Mack busied himself with a stack of papers on his desk. He seemed quite intent on having them neat and orderly. He raised his eyes. “Sue,” he said slowly, “I’m sorry. You’ve made a mistake. That traffic assignment is out of the question—now.”
“But—but the summons, Mr. Mack.” Sue felt a catch in her breath as she forced herself to go on. “What do you mean by—now?”
Mr. Mack kept his gaze steady on Sue as his hands fumbled around on his desk, found a paper clip, and began twisting it. He looked as though he wasn’t even going to answer. “Sue,” he began finally, “I want you to regard us here at school as your friends. We’re here to help you—and all the other students.”
“I know.” Panic caught at her. “I do. I just don’t get what you mean by now”
“Tell me, Sue”—Mr. Mack pulled his memo pad to him—“were you at the show Friday night?”
Sue could feel her scalp prickle as she dropped her gaze to her lap. “Yes,” she managed to say finally.
“Can’t you guess, then, what I mean by now?”
“You mean because I was—I was—” Sue’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Because you were evicted from the theater, yes.” Mr. Mack finished her sentence.
“But—how—why——”
“How did we hear about it?” Mr. Mack’s laugh was bitter. “There’s not much that goes on around town concerning our students we don’t hear about.” He picked up the paper clip again, and Sue watched it, almost hypnotized, as he contorted it into various shapes. “Here on my desk,” he continued, “I have a report from the manager of the theater that several of our students behaved in the manner of hoodlums.”
“I’m not a hoodlum,” Sue protested hotly. “I didn’t do a thing.”
“And then,” Mr. Mack continued, as if he hadn’t heard her, “I received a phone call this morning naming you specifically.”
“Oh no!” Sue jumped to her feet. “You didn’t believe her! You couldn’t believe that nosy Mrs. Cannon!”
“I didn’t say who phoned, Sue,” Mr. Mack said calmly. “And I won’t. Please sit down.”
Sue sat down again, this time on the edge of the chair. Her cheeks felt fiery. And yet the rest of her felt shivery. She waite
d for Mr. Mack to go on.
“It’s because you’ve always been one of our better students that I’ve called you in for a talk,” Mr. Mack said. “I just can’t see you getting off on the wrong foot after all these months.”
“But, Mr. Mack, I didn’t do anything. Really.”
“You mean, Sue Stevens, that you were sitting quietly at the theater, minding your own business—and the usher came down and made you leave?” Mr. Mack’s eyebrows showed his disbelief.
“Well, the show was boring, and maybe some of the kids got restless, and——”
“I don’t think water-filled balloons can be attributed to just ‘restlessness,’ do you?”
“Nobody in my row threw balloons.”
“What about the popcorn? Do you know anyone who threw that?”
Sue sat silent. Only a squealer would answer that one.
Mr. Mack looked down at his memo pad again. “My notes here,” he said, “indicate that two boys were evicted with you. Would you care to tell me who they were?” .
“No.” Sue was on her feet. “Why don’t you ask that blabber mouth—that Mrs. Cannon? It’s what she likes to do.”
“Susan Stevens.”
Her anger left her as quickly as it had come. She sat down, trying to wipe the clammy feeling from her hands against her skirt. She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Really I am. I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s just—just—but the show wasn’t even during school time.”
“It’s time you learned, Sue, that in our community each one of you students is a representative for us as a school, as well as for your own families.” Mr. Mack stood up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It is you young people,” he continued, “who set the reputation of your school. Either you are upstanding citizens or you are delinquents. Your school has either a good name or a bad one.”
Sue studied her hands as she folded and unfolded them. Yes, she knew about a school’s reputation. Woodlake, in the adjoining suburb, for instance, was supposed to be “good,” and Winchester was supposed to be “tough.”
“I want us to be friends, as we have been.” Mr. Mack paced back and forth across the room. “It seems to me you’re at a kind of crossroads, Sue. And for your own good, don’t get mixed up with the wrong group. You know as well as I do who the main troublemakers are. You have an outstanding record. Try to keep it.”
Sue fought back her tears. Her mouth felt dry—as if it were full of cotton. She couldn’t think of words to fill the silence.
“Would you care to tell me your version now, Sue?” Mr. Mack’s voice was gentle. “You don’t have to, you know. As you say, you weren’t on school time.”
Mr. Mack’s eyes looked almost as kind as Dad’s. It would be so easy to tell—to lay the cards on the table, neatly, orderly. Going to the show with Cathy and Ellen as usual. Buying the popcorn, meeting Dave in the lobby . . . the woman taking her seat . . . the stupid second feature . . . the long, unearned walk up the aisle to the lobby where she’d faced the manager . . . she could still see the manager, his face livid . . . and Mrs. Cannon—that Mrs. Cannon!—and Mr. Mack had listened to her? Sue swallowed the words that had been on her lips. Mrs. Cannon had sealed her lips.
“I have nothing to say.” Sue’s words were barely audible.
Mr. Mack sighed. “Well, Sue, that just about closes the matter. You may return to class. But remember, we’re here to help.”
Sue rose with all the dignity she could muster. She felt so shaken she didn’t think she could walk to the door. As she put her hand on the knob, Mr. Mack spoke again. “I suppose I should admire you for your reluctance to involve your friends,” he said. “But remember, Sue, this aversion you youngsters have to ‘squealing,’ as you call it, can have frightening results.”
Sue could hardly bring her eyes to meet his. “Thank you,” she said, and then wondered what she was thanking him for. Tears blinded her as she stepped out into the corridor. The halls were empty. Classes had already resumed. Sue brushed at her tears. Her cheeks still felt hot. As she approached the ramp leading to her wing, she saw Ricky and Dave. She turned her head quickly, hoping they wouldn’t speak—that they’d just leave her alone.
“Say, there.” Dave thumped her gently on the shoulder with his fist. “What are you doing out of class?”
“Mr. Mack?” asked Ricky.
She nodded mutely, afraid to trust her voice for fear the tears might show.
“That bad?” persisted Ricky.
“They can’t do nothing much,” said Dave.
“Anything,” Sue corrected automatically. “Have to hurry to class. I’m late.” She broke away from the boys and started at a fast pace up the ramp, then glanced over her shoulder. They were just standing there, looking at her. She raised her hand in farewell.
“We’re headed for Mack’s den ourselves,” Dave called. “Nothing to it.”
Sue continued on her way. Nothing to it. Maybe not—for Dave. At that moment she almost hated him. How could he get Ricky and her involved with Mr. Mack and then say “nothing to it”? But in all honesty Dave hadn’t involved her deliberately. In fact, she’d involved herself. And none of it—that business at the theater—was really their fault. A stupid picture, an unreasonable manager, a nosy neighbor—so Mr. Mack knew all along who the two boys were. Mrs. Cannon had done her job well.
Sue’s steps lagged as she forced herself to return to the classroom. All eyes would be turned on her as she walked in. How she knew it. She straightened her shoulders resolutely. They’d never know—not any of them—what had happened. Not if she could help it. Sue forced a smile as she put her hand on the doorknob.
7.
The Closed Door
Sue entered the classroom with her smile fixed and frozen. This was like walking a plank or something. She passed one of the boys in Dave’s gang. He gave a good-luck salute and winked broadly. She felt her face flush, then managed an answering wink. She slipped quietly into her seat.
“Good news?” the girl across from her whispered. Her gloating look belied her words, as though she knew it was bad. Did other people know why she’d gotten the summons? Could they? Sue shrugged, raised her eyebrows elaborately, and opened her Spanish book.
Stalling for time was not easy when the noon bell rang. But Sue was determined. She wanted to leave after the room had cleared out. The boy who had winked came over to her desk.
“Heard about the show,” he said. There was admiration in his voice. “Wouldn’t you know I wouldn’t be there. Must have been something—your dad laying the manager out with one blow.” He whistled softly. “Boy, what a deal!”
“Huh?” Sue could only stare her astonishment. Before she could ask what he meant, he’d left. She picked up her lunch and went out to the schoolyard. Ellen and Cathy, sitting over on the stone wall, looked so good. So safe and familiar.
“Did you get it?” Ellen demanded. “Did you?”
“I did, that’s for sure.” Sue gave a rueful laugh.
“Oh, Sue. You lucky! What corner?”
With a shock, Sue realized Ellen was talking about traffic. “Oh, that?” Sue made her voice as scornful as possible. “You mean traffic? Don’t be silly.”
Ellen frowned. “But I—Cathy said——”
Sue looked at Cathy and remembered that long-ago moment in the hall. “Traffic!” she snorted, giving the word all the scorn she could muster. The resentment and defiance coursed through her like an ugly, consuming thing. “Traffic!” she repeated. “Do you realize what I’d have to give up? Why, I’d never have time for lunch with you, or have fun after school, or . . .” Sue dropped her glance to the ground. Who was she fooling? Cathy and Ellen, her two best friends? Or herself?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. But Mr. Mack didn’t give me a traffic job. He bawled me out because of Friday night. Now I’ll never get on traffic.”
“That’s not fair.” Cathy sounded indignant. “You didn’t do anythin
g.”
“Maybe not,” Ellen said. “But you should hear thetalk. Honestly, you’re about the most exciting thing that’s happened at Taft for weeks. I heard that your Dad beat up the manager for insulting you. And then I heard that it was Dave who hit the manager. I even heard that you were all taken to the juvenile home, and——”
“Ellen!” Cathy’s voice was like a whip.
“Well, they do say that,” Ellen persisted. “And that’s not all. Some woman called my mother Saturday and said ‘Birds of a feather flock together,’ and if she knew what was good for me, she’d keep me away from you.”
“Ellen!” Cathy’s voice was as cold as ice. “Shut up!”
Sue could only stare, wide-eyed. This couldn’t be happening. She swallowed twice before she could make her voice work. “You mean,” she said slowly, “you mean a woman really did call up your mother?”
“You think I’m a liar?” Ellen seemed to be fired with the subject. “Cathy’s, too.”
Cathy looked miserable.
“Did she?” Sue demanded. “Did she?”
“Yes.” Cathy’s voice was low. “At least some woman started to, but Mom hung up. She won’t talk to anonymous callers.” She turned to Ellen, her eyes blazing. “I thought we decided not to say anything”
Ellen looked sulky. “I wouldn’t have said anything if she hadn’t been so high and mighty. Besides,” she defended herself, “I think it’s exciting. I’ve never gone around with a . . . with a . . .” her voice trailed off into silence.
“Say it,” Sue commanded between clenched teeth. “Say it. Were you going to call me a pickup or a juvenile delinquent?”
Cathy stepped forward and put her hand on Sue’s arm. “Look,” she said. “Don’t get so mad. You know how dumb Ellen is about things. She——”
Sue brushed aside Cathy’s hand. “Let her talk,” she demanded. “Let her have her say.” Her glance swept Ellen from head to foot. “Let her get it off her chest—her flat, fat, shapeless chest.”
“Sue.” Cathy’s voice was a plea.
The Pink Dress Page 5