The Pink Dress

by Anne Alexander

  “Ooooooh.” Judy’s coo was an ecstatic sigh as she reached for the bracelet. “Let me see, Dave.”

  “Skip it.” Dave jammed the bracelet into his pocket. He turned on his heel and shouldered his way quickly through the group.

  Sue tore her gaze from Dave’s retreating back to look at Judy. Why, she was as humiliated as Sue! Her face was scarlet. She glared at Sue with eyes that blazed with pure, undiluted hatred.

  “Come on, gang.” Judy jerked her head in the direction of the basketball courts. “We’ve things to discuss.”

  Maxine gave Sue a despairing look as she meekly followed in Judy’s wake. What if she should decide to go along, too, Sue wondered. After all she was part of the gang. She was a Jay Dee. There was no reason why Judy should push her around. Sue stood up, then sat down again. It wasn’t worth the effort. She crumbled up the lunch bag beside her. Too bad she wasn’t hungry today.

  “Sue?”

  Sue looked up to see Mr. Henderson standing before her. “Mr. Mack would like to see you—now.”

  Sue welcomed the chance to leave the yard. She walked quickly to the office.

  Mr. Mack looked up as Sue stood in the doorway. He looked so welcoming, “Sit down, Sue.” He motioned to a chair. “It’s good to have you back.”

  Here, in the security of Mr. Mack’s office, it was good to be back.

  “Sue,"—Mr. Mack’s fingers drummed lightly on the edge of his desk—"we have a problem here at Taft that I think you can help.”

  Sue’s spirits perked up. To be needed—just a little?

  “What do you know about the Driscoll home?”

  Sue raised startled eyes to Mr. Mack’s face. The Dris–coll home . . . her lipstick. She dropped her gaze quickly. Had her suspicions shown in her eyes? “I—I read about it,” she said slowly.

  “I didn’t think you knew anything about it.” Mr. Henderson’s voice was pleased. “But I had to make sure.”

  Sue let out her breath slowly, evenly. So her thoughts ; hadn’t been readable. She waited for Mr. Mack to continue.

  “Graduation will be here soon—and then summer vacation.” Mr. Mack paused. He seemed to be groping for the right words. “Vandalism, such as that which took place at the Driscoll home, is a new thing in our community. It has to stop before it gains momentum. It has to stop before our school term ends. Or someone might be hurt.” He looked at Sue somberly, and she wondered if she was supposed to say something.

  “The police are sure the culprits are Taft students. Certain ones are already under their—ah—watchful eyes.”

  Sue held her breath. Mr. Mack was warning—her? He leaned across the desk confidentially. “You can help by telling us, Sue.”

  “Telling you?”

  “Letting us know if and when any future acts are contemplated.”

  “You—you think I’m a vandal?”

  “If we did, we’d hardly call you in like this. But you might hear of something.”

  For a moment Sue had a wild desire to tell her suspicions. Judy had it coming to her. Revenge would be sweet. Or would it? Could she, Susan Stevens, live with herself if her suspicions were wrong? Mr. Mack was asking her to be a second Mrs. Cannon again. He was asking her to be an informer. Sue studied her hands as she spoke. “I won’t hear anything, Mr. Mack,” she said slowly. “And if I did, I wouldn’t tell.”

  “Sue, Sue.” Mr. Mack stood up, and Sue noticed how weary he looked. “I’m sorry I failed. I’m sorry I didn’t make my point. Can’t you see you’d be helping? Not just us, but the others. The ones who do these things.”

  Sue didn’t answer. There was no answer. She watched Mr. Mack walk over to the door. She stood up and followed him. She was being dismissed.

  “Just remember, Sue, we’re here to help.” Mr. Mack sighed, and Sue thought his shoulders sagged. “If you ever need us, come running. And remember, too, your parents are proud of you and have faith in you. Don’t let them down.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “Thank you.” Mr. Mack gave Sue’s shoulder a pat. “Hurry to class now. You’re late, but you won’t need a corridor pass. Your teacher knows you’ve been with me.”

  School was finally over for the day. What a dismal first day back. Dave . . . Mr. Mack . . . Judy . . . Cathy . . . Ellen . . . Sue walked slowly down the corridor to meet Mom at the south entrance. Oh, to get in the car.

  “Here we are, Sue.” Jay waved wildly from the car window.

  She quickened her steps. The family chariot had never looked so good. She passed her books through the window to Jay, opened the door, and climbed in beside him. She sank back comfortably as Mom switched on the ignition. Mom was just about to pull away from the curb when Kit jerked the door open and bounded out onto the sidewalk.

  “Dave, Dave,” she screamed. “Here we are.”

  “Get in” Sue begged. “Keep quiet, Kit.”

  Kit didn’t bother to listen. She ran up the walk to where Dave, Mo, Judy, Laura, and Maxine were talking together. She took Dave’s hand and pulled him toward the car, and Sue huddled down in the corner, trying to make herself as small as possible.

  “Kit says I may have a ride, Mrs. Stevens.” Dave opened the door to the front seat. “Okay?”

  Hop in.

  Sue wished she had the nerve to look back to see Judy’s expression as Mom drove off.

  “Sit up, Sue,” Jay demanded. “You’re crowding me.”

  Sue straightened up, miserably embarrassed, but Dave ignored her completely.

  “Mind if I ride home with you?” he asked Mom.

  “We’ll even give you cookies and milk,” Kit promised, without waiting for Mom to reply. Sue gritted her teeth. How could Kit calmly bribe him like that.

  When Mom pulled into the driveway, Dave hopped out of the car quickly. He opened the back door. “I’ll carry your books,” he said pleasantly, as if nothing had ever happened.

  Sue followed him wordlessly into the house.

  “Now you sit down, young lady,” Mother ordered. “You must be tired.”

  “I’ll get the cookies,” Jay volunteered.

  “No, me.” Kit pushed past her brother and hurried to the kitchen.

  Sue sat on the davenport and wondered what in the world to say to Dave. Had he just come along to return her harmonica? He’d better hurry up if he was, because wandering around the room as he was doing, pretending to study the pictures, was just plain silly. He turned suddenly and faced her.

  “What did you give it back for?” he demanded.

  “You asked for it.”

  “No I didn’t. I asked where it was. You weren’t wearing it. Why?”

  Sue frowned. Now Dave was trying to make everything sound like her fault. “They said you’re going with Judy,” she told him. “Besides, you didn’t even call all week.”

  “I know.” Dave gave Sue a lopsided grin. “I was being stupid, I guess. I was mad.” He dropped on the davenport beside her. “Want it back?” He reached in his pocket and pulled out the bracelet, his eyes pleading.

  Sue felt her irritations of the day melt away. “Yes,” she said. She held out her arm and watched as Dave fastened the clasp.

  “Now leave it be,” he commanded. “You’re so on again, off again. Relax.” He gave the bracelet a final pat. “Guess I’ll get going so you can rest,” he added. “You look terrible.”

  “Thanks.”

  “That’s all right. Just see you don’t give it back again.”

  Sue giggled. “I wasn’t thanking you for the bracelet. I was thanking you for your lovely compliments. Saying I look terrible.”

  “Aw, Sue.” Dave’s voice was suddenly soft and he cupped her chin in his hand and tilted up her face. “You know what I mean. Tired-terrible. Not terrible-terrible. Don’t tease.” He cuffed her chin gently with his fist. “Now take it easy.” He walked to the front door. “Good-by, Mrs. Stevens,” he called. “I’ve got to be going.”

  “Hey, wait.” Jay tore into the room, both hands filled wi
th cookies. “I brought us something. And Kit’s bringing some pop.”

  “No pop today” Dave said as he took a cookie. “But I’ll have one of these for the road.”

  Sue watched out the window as Dave sauntered down the walk. He was cute. And sometimes he was as sweet and lovable as Jay and Kit. Sometimes? Most of the time. She took the cookie Jay handed her and nibbled on it, savoring its spicy crispness. The late spring sunshine seeped through the windows and she basked in it, letting its warmth make her drowsy. Even the glass of orange soda Kit brought in didn’t rouse her from just relaxing. Dimly she heard the phone ring, heard Jay answer it and sa. “It’s for Sue, Mom.” But she didn’t bother opening her eyes. And then, somehow, Dad was home and it was dinnertime.

  “Maxine phoned,” Mom said as she served Sue the vegetables. “There’s a Jay Dee meeting tonight. I told her you couldn’t go.”

  “Good.” Sue picked up her fork and knife. Judy . . . Laura . . . Mo . . . the Jay Dees. . . why, they couldn’t bother her. She was Sue Stevens, at peace with the world. Even Mr. Mack’s warning wasn’t important. The bracelet clinked pleasantly against the side of her plate as Sue cut into the chop.

  17.

  Meeting Called to Order

  The next two weeks were work-packed, yet they literally flew by. The fact that Sue’s grades had slid back prior to her stay at the hospital meant she had to work that much harder to catch up with the class. And then the students were smack-bang into preparations for the big social studies test that was a state requirement. Laws, amendments, duties of departments, and names, names, names had whirled through her mind until she could barely relegate them to their categories. The times Dave had come over—and they were quite few—Dad had quizzed the two of them. Sue had been amazed Dave was so bright. He was much smarter than she. Dad had looked as though he thoroughly enjoyed his test periods. Oh well, now the exam was over. Everyone could relax. All she had to do right now was prepare for a meeting of the Jay Dees.

  “What do you do at meetings?” Mom asked as she slathered inch-thick whipped cream on chocolate layers.

  That’s the question Sue had asked Maxine just today. She gave Mom Maxine’s answer. “Mostly talk and listen to records.”

  “Sounds rather dull,” Mom objected. “Don’t you think you should do something philanthropic at club meetings?”

  Sue looked at Mom with alarm. Neither Mom nor Dad approved of “idle hands”. But she, Sue, was the newest member in the club. Actually, she’d never been to a Jay Dee meeting except for initiation. Sue grimaced as she recalled that night. “Look, Mom,” she explained as lightly as she could. “Since I’m just beginning, maybe we’d better have things like they usually are.”

  “Hmmmmmmm.” Mom sounded as though she were deep in thought as she gave a final swirl to the top coating of cream. She sprinkled on some chocolate shavings and eyed the result with a critical expression. “Think they’ll like it?”

  “Oh, Mom.” Sue gave her mother a quick hug. “We’ve never had such good refreshments.”

  Mom took the cake and placed it carefully on a shelf in the refrigerator. “We’ll have ice cream and pink lemonade,” she said. “That should fill them. But I still think just sitting is dull.”

  Sue pretended she hadn’t heard. Now was not the time to get into a discussion on the evils of idleness. This meeting had to be just perfect. Actually, being a Jay Dee these past two weeks had been just about perfect, too. For some reason, the girls were extra friendly. Sue knew Judy didn’t like her, but the animosity had been well hidden. Lunch hours had been fun since that first horrible day back. Talking about nothing in particular had been relaxing. She’d seen Cathy and Ellen with Ricky and Chester, and even the fact that they weren’t particularly friendly didn’t bother her. Oh, Ricky always gave her a big smile and cheerful hello. But the others . . . Seeing Chester always reminded Sue of his Sunday suit. But she never asked Dave about it again.

  “Can Kit and I come to the party?” Jay poked his head into the kitchen as Sue arranged a bowl of white lilac for the play room. “We’ll be good.”

  “Huh uh.” Sue was emphatic. “But I’ll save you some cake,” she promised.

  “Is Dave coming?” Kit asked.

  “It’s a girl meeting,” Sue explained. “He can’t come.”

  What would Dave be doing tonight, Sue wondered. She pushed the teacart into the kitchen to arrange the plates, napkins, and glasses. Maybe he’d stay home with Alison again—if his Dad was going out. That had been the pattern of Dave’s home life anyway. Because Alison hadn’t been feeling too well the last week. It wouldn’t be long before Sue would be presenting her with the woolly hat. Sue pushed the teacart into the playroom and then stood back and admired the effect. Everything looked just lovely. If only the evening could be lovely too.

  Supper was a hurried affair that night, with Sue whisking the dishes off the table almost before the last bite had been taken. She was just drying the last one when the doorbell rang and the first girl arrived. Within five minutes they were all there. They stood around the living room awkwardly while Sue completed the introductions her parents insisted upon. Then she led them into the playroom while Mom ushered Kit and Jay upstairs and Dad settled down with his paper and pipe.

  “Don’t forget to save some cake,” Kit and Jay yelled down the stairs.

  Sue didn’t bother to answer as Judy settled herself in the chair of honor. Judy looked as though there were important doings underfoot.

  “We’ll have the minutes, Laura,” Judy announced importantly.

  As Laura read the brief report, Sue decided she’d missed absolutely nothing with her absences.

  Laura picked up a piece of paper. “I’ll read the treasurer’s report,” she said. She scanned the paper. “You owe three dollars, Sue.”

  “Three dollars?” Sue heard her own voice squeak its surprise. Why, that was more than the whole treasury held.

  “It’s a privilege to be a Jay Dee. You’ve abused that privilege by not coming to meetings, so you have to pay a fine.”

  “I don’t have three dollars.”

  “Get it or else.” Judy’s voice was flat, authoritative. “Maybe Dave could pay for you,” she added.

  “I wouldn’t ask Dave.” Sue’s voice showed her scorn.

  Judy shrugged. “I don’t care how you get it, just get it.” She turned to the other girls. “Maxine will have our next meeting,” she said. “A party. Right?”

  Maxine nodded.

  “And it’s to be some party. Right?” Judy repeated the word.

  Maxine giggled nervously as she glanced first at Judy, then down at her feet.

  “Don’t worry, Maxine. I’ve cased the street with Mo. It’ll be the greatest.”

  Sue felt her scalp prickle. “What do you mean, ‘you cased the street’?”

  “You’ll see.” Judy’s smile seemed almost sinister. “And you won’t have an appendix to take you home this time, either.”

  Was this a warning that Mr. Mack would like to hear? Or was Judy just going through her usual line of chatter because she knew it made Sue nervous?

  “Meeting adjourned.” Judy banged her gavel.

  “Records, Sue, where are your records?” Laura asked.

  Sue switched on her record player as her mother walked in. Sue looked at the box Mom held in her hands and her heart sank.

  “Just had an idea, girls,” Mom said in her cheeriest voice—the one she reserved for Jay and Kit when she wanted them to do something they didn’t want to do. “Sue said you just listened to records for your meetings, so I thought you could work with your hands while you enjoyed them.” She set the box on the table and spread out thicknesses of felt. “Beanbags,” she announced. “For the Co-operative Nursery.”

  “Beanbags!” Judy sounded as startled as if Mom announced a visitor from Mars.

  “Yes.” Mom laid a fish pattern on black felt and beckoned to Laura. “Here, you may start.”

  Sue swallowed. Mom had
that Carrie Nation look in her eyes, and when she had that look there was no stopping her. Laura must have recognized the expression, too, for she came over to the table quite willingly and and picked up the scissors.

  In a matter of minutes the girls were busily cutting out their patterns, and Mom set up the portable sewing machine. “You girls have all sewn in school,” she said, “and this is very simple.”

  “Fins and eyes?” Maxine asked.

  “As gay as gay can be,” Mom answered.

  In spite of themselves, Sue thought, the girls were enjoying the fishy evening. She put on a fresh selection of records.

  “I’ll get the cake and see about beans,” Mom said as the first girl finished her stint at the machine and another girl took her place.

  “Is your mother always a do-gooder?” Judy asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

  “I think it’s a cute idea,” Laura protested, and Sue shot her a grateful look.

  “It’s wonderful.” Judy’s face darkened, and Sue caught the venom in the look that darted her way. “So good you can improve Jay Dee routine, Sue. You must have thought of this project for hours.”

  Sue started to protest. This was strictly Mom’s idea. But that would put Mom in a sort of "bossy" light. And no one—especially Judy—was going to criticize her family. “Could be,” she answered with forced gaiety.

  Judy appeared to be gathering her forces for another outburst when Mom returned with the cake and Dad followed with pitchers of lemonade. As Dad poured, Mom left the room again and returned this time with the beans.

  In between gobbles of the cake, the girls stuffed their felt fish. And when the last crumb of cake was gone, the last drop drained from the lemonade pitchers, the last beanbag was finished too. Judy, Sue noticed, had declined to make a beanbag.

  “We might have time for a quick game of charades,” Dad ventured. “I loved it when I was a kid.” He divided the group into teams. “Bet you can think of hard things to portray,” he told Judy. “You look like an intelligent girl. How about starting things off?”

  Sue almost laughed at the way Judy preened under the compliment. “We’ll take songs,” Judy announced, and she and her team went into a huddle.