The Pink Dress

by Anne Alexander

  “That isn’t it,” Sue exclaimed. “I don’t want to have them. I don’t want to be a Jay Dee—now.”

  “There’s Mr. Mack,” warned Maxine.

  Sue looked, scared to the very core of her being. Mr. Mack, who seemed to know everything. Could he know—already—she had stolen goods on her? He couldn’t. He was coming in the wrong direction.

  “Hello, girls.” Mr. Mack’s eyes appeared to be smiling at them. Did he notice her bulging pockets, Sue wondered.

  “Hello, Mr. Mack.” Both girls spoke in unison.

  “Been shopping?” he asked.

  “Yes—I mean no.” Sue felt her face flush under his gaze. Maxine apparently was speechless. “I mean, I have to go home right now.” She hurried down the sidewalk, almost dragging Maxine with her.

  Maxine broke away from Sue’s hold on her arm. “What did you act like that for?” she demanded. “You sure acted funny.”

  “I feel funny. I want to go home right now.” Sue was walking so fast, it was almost a run. Maxine tagged about a step behind. Sue’s stomach felt as if it were tied in a knot. There was a dull pain in her side. She wondered for a minute if she were getting sick. The jacket felt as though it were weighed down with rocks. The house had never looked so good as when she and Maxine reached the front steps.

  Mom must have seen them coming because she held open the door. “What speed burners,” she exclaimed. She greeted Maxine with a smile. “I’ve a pitcher of lemonade awaiting a couple of thirsty characters.”

  Maxine flashed a grateful look at Mrs. Stevens, then turned to Sue. “May I—have some lemonade?” she asked.

  Sue caught Mom’s puzzled expression as she looked from Maxine to Sue. “Of course,” Sue said. She followed her mother into the kitchen. Jay and Kit were at the table, lemonade and cookies before them.

  “Take off your jacket, Sue,” Mother said. “It’s so awfully warm.”

  “No.” Sue drew her jacket tight around her. Somehow, if she kept it close, she felt that the things in her pockets wouldn’t show.

  It seemed to Sue that Maxine sipped her lemonade with maddening slowness. Wouldn’t she ever leave? She wondered how Maxine could be so calm and cheerful, chatting with Jay and Kit and answering all Mom’s questions gaily. Sue could hardly force herself to drink the lemonade, and her cookie lay untasted.

  “Is something wrong, Sue?” Mom turned questioning eyes on Sue.

  Sue pretended not to hear.

  “Susan,” Mom persisted. “What’s the matter?”

  Sue was almost overwhelmed with the strong desire to tell. Maybe Mom could straighten Maxine out, too, on how wrong it was to—to steal. “I—Mom, today Maxine and I—”

  “I’ve got to be going, Mrs. Stevens.” Maxine rose hurriedly, almost upsetting the pitcher of lemonade. “I’ll see you tonight, Sue. Okay?”

  “She’ll be there,” Mom agreed.

  Sue went to the door with Maxine. “Don’t be stupid,” Maxine whispered. “Were you going to tell your mother?”

  Sue didn’t answer.

  “If you tell her,” Maxine continued, “you’ll only get her worried—and mad at you. She doesn’t ever have to know. Besides, she’d never let you be a Jay Dee—or my best friend.”

  Kit and Jay squeezed by Sue as she stood at the door, wordlessly watching Maxine go her way. Maybe Maxine was right. Mom would worry. She’d be terribly upset if Sue told. This was her problem, her very own. One she should work out herself.

  With a sudden movement, Sue closed the door and ran up the stairs to her room. She knew now what she had to do. She shook her bank impatiently, trying to dislodge the quarters and dimes she’d put there. Finally she figured she had enough. She dashed down the stairs and out the door.

  Kit and Jay were in front of the garage as she went to the side area and got out her bike. It had been a long time since she’d ridden it. Girls at Taft didn’t care to be seen riding bikes. As she wheeled it around, she caught Jay’s and Kit’s look of astonishment. “Tell Mom I’ll be right back,” she called.

  She’d have to hurry, hurry, hurry. The store closed in a few minutes. Sue pedaled with all the energy she had. She took the most direct route, even though it might mean that fellow Taft students might see her. Quickly she parked the bike in the rack on the corner. She quickened her stride down the street. She couldn’t stop to think this out—or she’d get scared. But at the store’s entrance, Sue’s feet seemed leaden. How could she walk in and explain how the things were taken, even though she’d brought the money along to pay for them. She couldn’t say Maxine stole them, and she certainly hadn’t. About the only thing she could do—was return them. And that she’d have to do as cleverly as Maxine had taken them.

  Stealthily, Sue went from counter to counter, looking at first this thing, then that. And when she thought a clerk wasn’t looking, she slipped an article out of her pocket and put it back in its place. Only the ball pen, now. Then she’d be free. But ball-point pens were up by the cash register. How had Maxine managed to take it? She held the thing in her hand.

  “May I help you?”

  Sue jumped. The manager was at her elbow.

  “I’m just looking—looking at this pen,” Sue managed to say.

  “How did it get back here with the lipsticks?” the manager asked. “Pens are up by the checking counter. You weren’t by any chance trying to walk off with it, were you?”

  “No. Oh no.”

  “Well,” the manager hesitated. He was studying Sue’s face. “Weren’t you in here earlier this afternoon? With another girl—just looking that time too?”

  Sue couldn’t meet the manager’s eyes. Fright made her hands clammy. She stared with a sort of horror at the pen she still had in her hand. Resolutely, she handed the pen to the manager. She swallowed hard to get her words out. “I don’t want the pen. I was just looking.”

  The manager seemed to bristle with suspicion. “We’re closing now,” he said. “Perhaps it’s time for you to leave.”

  Sue turned blindly to the door. This was almost like the scene in the show. Except not so bad. She almost expected Mrs. Cannon’s face to come jeering and leering at her. She should feel clean—and free. She no longer had the things on her. But she still felt horrible. Near the entrance Sue’s glance caught the display of bubble soap. She picked up two bottles and handed them hurriedly to the check-out clerk. “I’ll take these,” she said, trying to be casual.

  Now her pockets really bulged. But it was a nice, clean bulge. Sue pedaled back home almost as fast as she’d come. Jay and Kit tagged along as she put her bike away.

  “Here’s a surprise for you.” Sue gave them the two bottles of soap.

  Mom was waiting at the door again. “Susan Stevens.” Mom looked worried as Sue entered the house. “Where did you go? What in the world are you up to? What is the matter?”

  “Nothing, Mom. Not a thing.” Sue threw her arms around her mother and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Nothing’s wrong—not now.”

  Mom didn’t look quite satisfied with Sue’s explanation, but Sue gave her an impish grin and dashed to her room. She felt gay, free—almost lightheaded in her relief. It wouldn’t take long, once she got to the meeting, to be on her way home again. Maxine would be hurt—and angry. But that couldn’t be helped now.

  Tonight Sue would be through with being one of The Crowd. She’d be through being a Jay Dee before she really had become one.

  She was through, too, she guessed, with Cathy and Ellen.

  Maybe, after tonight, Dave wouldn’t have much use for her either. He seemed to think the Jay Dees were something really special.

  But as least she could stand herself again.

  10.

  Initiation

  Sue rapped the knocker sharply on Maxine’s door. She was late purposely. She wanted to be sure most of The Crowd was present before announcing her decision. She’d even rehearsed the words she was going to say. This was going to be a clean break, sharp and decisive. She felt
good just standing here at the door. The only part she dreaded was facing Maxine. Maxine would be dismayed.

  A steady hum of voices and an occasional high-pitched giggle came from inside. Maybe they hadn’t heard. She raised her hand to the knocker again as the door was flung open and Maxine drew her eagerly into the house.

  “You’re late.” Maxine sounded reproving. “The meeting’s already started. Hurry.”

  “But, Maxine, I just came to—”

  “Come on.” Maxine gave another tug and Sue almost lost her balance. “Madame President, may I present our new Jay Dee?”

  Sue glanced quickly around the room. There sat Judy, the queen bee, enthroned in a big overstuffed chair. Her face held a gloating, anticipatory look. The other girls were either sitting in chairs or sprawled on the floor, leaning against the furniture. Tonight, it seemed, everyone was present.

  Judy banged a gavel against the coffee table. “The meeting will come to order,” she announced. “Sue, sit down.”

  Maxine made room for Sue on the piano bench. Sue remained standing. Now—now was the moment to tell. “Madame President,” she began.

  “Quiet,” Judy commanded. “Get to work, girls.”

  Sue felt rather than saw Maxine slip the blindfold over her eyes. Two girls had pinned her arms to her side.

  “Now,” Sue heard Judy say, “you’re to co-operate, Sue, and you won’t get hurt. Otherwise—”

  Sue was guided to a bench and told to sit down. She hadn’t counted on this. Before she could have her say, the initiation was started. Well, let them have their fun. And then she’d tell them.

  “Sue,” Maxine said quietly, “put out your hands. Tell us what you feel.”

  Sue felt her hand being shoved into a bowl. The things she touched were cold and slimy. She almost laughed. How corny. Wet macaroni or spaghetti, that’s what it was. Why, she’d seen this trick years ago at a Halloween party.

  “What do you feel?” Maxine repeated.

  Sue gave a delicate shudder. “Worms,” she said. “Wiggly, slimy worms.” She heard the peals of laughter from the girls.

  “Eat one, Sue. Eat one.”

  Sue took the one placed in her hand and raised it gingerly to her mouth. It tasted like nothing. Well-almost nothing. What if it wasn’t macaroni? She almost gagged at the thought and returned the uneaten portion to the dish.

  “Now this, Sue. Try this.”

  Her hand was plunged into another bowl. This time she felt things that were round and cold and slippery. Peeled grapes, she decided.

  “Fish eyes,” the girls declared. “Eat, Sue, eat.”

  The grape taste was real, and Sue sighed her relief.

  “One more thing. Stand up.” She felt a hand guide her. “Now step.”

  Sue stepped. She was on a board now. She knew this trick, too. But the girls were going to extremes. She felt she’d surely lose her balance as the board was raised up—up—up.

  “Jump.” This was Judy’s voice.

  Sue jumped. The floor was surprisingly close, and she almost lost her balance.

  She pulled off her blindfold. The girls were almost doubled up with laughter. She joined in. She’d been right about the grapes and the macaroni. And then her stomach did a flip-flop. There, on top of the macaroni was—half a worm. Sue swallowed hard as her stomach churned wildly. What if it weren’t a ruse—what if she’d—— She searched the faces around her. Maxine. Had she actually winked at her? Judy’s face was flushed with excitement, and her eyes were almost feverishly bright.

  “The forfeit, Sue. Now the forfeit,” demanded Judy. “Then you can sign the book.”

  Sue fought with the nausea that threatened her as she again caught sight of the macaroni dish. She swallowed. “What forfeit?” she managed to ask.

  “Why, the things you—ah—got—on the Avenue.”

  This was it. Now . . . now . . . “I took them back,” she announced, her voice loud and clear.

  “You what?” Judy was on her feet, her eyes narrow slits as she looked at Sue. “No one can be a Jay Dee without fulfilling all the requirements.”

  “That’s why I took them back. I don’t want to be a Jay Dee.”

  Sue heard Maxine gasp. She turned and looked at the girl. Her round cheeks were white, and her lips quivered as though she was going to cry.

  “I’m sorry, Maxine, but I couldn’t do it. I took ‘em back after you left.” She faced Judy again. “I won’t steal—or be a part of stealing—for you, or anyone, or anything,” she announced flatly.

  “So.” Judy walked up to Sue until her face was just inches away. How could she look so just right and poised when her eyes blazed with hate and fury? Sue backed away.

  “So,” Judy repeated. “You go through our initiation-through all our plans—and just quit?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.” Judy almost spat the word. Now her mouth that Sue thought was so lovely was a sneering, scornful slit.

  “Skip it, Judy.” Laura spoke up now. “Let her go. Drop her. She’s not worth the bother.”

  “No.” Judy looked around the room, her eyes seeming to take in everyone. “And I’ll tell you why. She knows too much. And she’s just the type who would squeal.”

  “No, I won’t really,” Sue protested. “I’ll pretend I don’t even know you.”

  “Furthermore,” Judy went on, ignoring Sue, “she’ll be a good Jay Dee—or else.”

  “Or else—what?” Sue heard her voice crack. She was suddenly afraid. But why?

  Judy shrugged. “We might let it be known on the Avenue that you—ah—take things?”

  “I don’t.”

  “And they’ll believe us—because we’ll have proof.” Judy’s smile was a taunt. “And if that’s not enough, maybe something will happen to someone. Not you, but someone you like.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Sue almost whispered the words.

  “I wouldn’t?” Judy was laughing at her openly now. “Maybe not. But then again, maybe I would. Could you take a chance?” Judy’s giggle was almost hysterical, and the look in her eyes was a wild, cruel thing. “Ask Chester what happened to his Sunday suit one night, why don’t you?

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Sue repeated, but her words didn’t convince even her. Judy would dare. Judy would dare anything. Sue’s glance went again to the dish of macaroni. Judy was the one who thought of the worm—who would slice it in two. Fear and apprehension swept over her as Sue sank weakly onto the arm of a chair.

  “Secretary,” Judy said triumphantly, “get the book. She can sign in blood.”

  Slowly, as though she were in a dream, Sue pricked her finger with the needle Maxine handed her and squeezed it until a drop of blood showed. With a shaky hand, she signed her name in the notebook Laura put before her. She brushed her hand across her face and looked around at the girls as she straightened up. They were all so quiet, so absolutely still. Were they afraid—too?

  “Okay.” Judy banged the gavel on the coffee table again, once more the poised, sure queen bee. “Meeting adjourned. Let’s listen to records, Maxine.”

  Sue felt as if she were in a trance as Maxine turned on the hi-fi. She sank down onto an ottoman as the first loud notes of a downbeat record filled the room. The girls were talking now, enthusiastic, gay, laughing. Judy seemed to be the brightest of them all. Sue watched, miserably alone. Maxine inched her way over.

  “Don’t be like that,” Maxine whispered. “Everything is all right. Really. Now you’re a Jay Dee everything’s fine. It’s just that Judy doesn’t like to be crossed.”

  Sue couldn’t find the words to answer.

  “Look,” Maxine went on, “Judy’s just kidding. She wouldn’t do anything—not really. And now we can be best friends.”

  Sue half smiled and squeezed Maxine’s hand. Maybe Maxine didn’t believe Judy, but she did. She could tell by the look in Judy’s brown eyes. She saw Judy come over toward her.

  “Having fun?” Judy’s question was an open sneer.

/>   “Naturally.” Sue made her words drip sarcasm. “This is simply tops.” She made her eyes meet Judy’s bright gloating glance defiantly, unafraid.

  “Hey,” called Laura, “when do we eat?”

  “Right now.” Maxine scuttled out of the room and came back in a moment, followed by her parents.

  Sue looked at the trays of hot chocolate and doughnuts with acute distaste. She didn’t see how she could force a bite past her lips.

  “Mom, Dad,” said Maxine, “you’ve never met our newest member, have you? This is Sue Stevens.”

  “Glad to meet you, Sue.” Mrs. Henning placed the tray on a table and proffered her hand.

  Sue felt her fingers clammy in Mrs. Henning’s warm clasp.

  “A new member? This calls for a picture,” said Mr. Henning. He left the room as the girls grabbed for the doughnuts. In a moment he was back, and Sue was posed between Judy and Laura while the flash bulbs went off.

  How can you be so dumb! Sue thought as she watched the Hennings mix with the girls. How can you not know what kind of a club this is? And yet, she hadn’t known—until today—had she?

  It seemed like centuries before Dad came to pick her up, yet when she looked at the clock it was only eight-thirty. As she bid her good-bys, Dad asked if anyone would like a ride, maybe.

  “Oh, Mr. Stevens, if it really wouldn’t be too much bother——" cooed Judy, and Sue found herself followed to the car by both Judy and Laura.

  Sue sat silently in a corner as the girls chatted with Dad. And then they were finally at Judy’s.

  Judy jumped out of the car. “Thanks so much, Mr. Stevens,” she said. She turned to Sue. “Gee, your dad’s a honey,” she went on. And then she looked hard at Sue. “Good-by, new Jay Dee,” she said in a low voice. “Remember.” And she ran her finger across her throat.

  Dad caught the gesture. He laughed as he drove off. “Is that one of your good-night signals?” he asked. “I can remember having a secret lodge grip.”

  “I—I guess it is,” Sue murmured.