Girl Power

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Girl Power Page 11

by Melody Carlson


  Morgan started sketching a square on two legs then laughed. “I’ll have to watch cartoons to remember exactly how he looks. It’s no good unless you get it right.”

  “But he’s got those skinny little legs.” Emily pointed to the sticks protruding from the pants. “How can he possibly stand up if he’s made of sand?”

  “Maybe he can be sitting down,” suggested Carlie. “Like on a piece of driftwood?”

  “Or maybe he’s sunbathing with his little friends,” said Morgan with excitement. “Remember, he has a crab and a snail and—”

  “A starfish!” exclaimed Emily.

  “That’ll be perfect for the beach.”

  “Yeah,” said Morgan “and they can have a picnic basket and suntan lotion and everything.”

  “It’ll be so cool.”

  “And sure to win,” said Amy. As Amy mentally divided up their winnings, Emily imagined seeing dollar signs in her eyes. “Let’s fill out the application.” She snatched the paper from Emily and started to fill in the blanks. “Uh-oh,” she said suddenly.

  “What?” they all asked.

  “There’s a deadline, you guys.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow.” She smiled. “Not a moment too soon, huh? Almost like destiny.” She turned and looked at them. “Did you guys bring your money for the fee?”

  To Emily’s relief, they hadn’t. But she suspected they’d have it together before she would. Maybe even by tonight. And while she knew that $6.25 wouldn’t seem like anything more than chump change to most people, it was $6.25 more than she had at the moment. She knew she could ask her mom, but she also knew how tight things were right now. She’d been afraid to ask her mom for anything lately.

  “Hey, maybe your mom could turn the application in for us, Emily,” said Morgan. “Since she works there. That way we’d make the deadline for sure.”

  “Yeah, how about if we drop our money off by your house before your mom goes to work tomorrow?” suggested Amy.

  “Sure,” said Emily, trying to think of a quick way to earn six dollars and twenty-five cents by morning. At least she wouldn’t have to be humiliated by admitting to her friends that she was broke. At least not right now anyway. It was such a pain being poor!

  It was getting late now and time to call it a day. “My mom and brother usually leave the house a little before nine to get to work on time,” she told them. They all promised to drop off their part of the deposit before then.

  “Here’s the key,” said Emily, handing the precious key back to Morgan as they stepped outside.

  “I don’t see why Morgan gets to have total control of the key,” said Amy. “I mean, doesn’t the bus belong to all of us equally?”

  “Yeah, of course,” said Morgan. “I’m just keeping it because Mr. Greeley gave it to me.”

  “But that’s just it,” continued Amy. “Why do you get to keep it all the time?”

  “Why not?” asked Carlie.

  “Because it’s not fair,” said Amy.

  “Why not?” demanded Emily. “Morgan was the one who led us in the cleanup of Harbor View. She’s the one who wasn’t afraid to talk to Mr. Greeley. Why shouldn’t she be in charge of the key?”

  “Yeah,” said Carlie.

  “Because we should vote,” said Amy.

  “Vote?” echoed Morgan. “On what?”

  “On who’s really in charge here.”

  “In charge?” Morgan frowned at Amy. “Like someone should be the dictator? I thought we were all friends … and equals.”

  “Yes,” said Amy quickly. “We are. But we’re also a club. And a club has a president.”

  “You think we have to have a president?” said Carlie.

  Amy nodded. “Yes. And I think we should have an election.”

  Emily sighed and Morgan groaned and Carlie just laughed.

  “Come on you guys,” Amy urged them. “If we’re going to be a real club, we should take ourselves seriously. We need someone who’s smart and able to make decisions to lead us. And I think I’d be perfect for the job.”

  They all laughed, except for Amy. Her eyes began to tear and her chin quivered.

  “I’m sorry, Amy,” said Morgan. “But I just don’t see the—”

  “I knew you wouldn’t,” she snapped. “You guys really don’t like me, do you? I know it’s probably because I’m the youngest one here. But I can’t help it if I skipped a grade. I can’t help it that I’m smarter than average. But does that mean I should be persecuted?”

  “No,” said Morgan. “Of course not.”

  “I don’t mind if we have an election,” said Carlie.

  “Me neither,” said Emily.

  “In fact, we can do it right now if you want,” said Morgan.

  “No way,” said Amy. “We need to nominate first. Then we campaign and make speeches and finally we vote—by secret ballot.”

  Morgan groaned again. “That’s so much work.”

  “But it’s the right way to do it,” protested Amy. “And I’ll bring paper and stuff. You guys just be ready to cooperate. Okay?”

  With reluctance they all agreed. And as they walked back to their houses, Emily imagined that Amy was probably a natural leader after all. Except that she was sort of a dictator. Emily wasn’t so sure they were ready for that. But why should she worry? Morgan would easily be elected three to one.

  The girls told each other good night, and Emily unlocked her front door and went inside. As usual, Mom and Kyle wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours. Emily was used to it now. And at least the place didn’t look nearly as dismal and empty as it had when they first moved in. She looked around the house and realized that it had gotten pretty messy this past week. With Mom and Kyle working so many hours and Emily’s recent projects with her friends, things had been neglected here.

  Maybe that’s how she could earn some quick cash. She kicked her idea into high gear as she went about cleaning up and straightening in the living room. She picked up soda cans, newspapers, and dirty socks. She dusted the few pieces of furniture that Morgan’s mom had donated. She plumped the pillows. And finally—since they didn’t have a vacuum cleaner yet—she actually got down on her hands and knees to pick up lint and crumbs from the dingy tan carpeting. After that she attacked the kitchen.

  By the time Mom and Kyle got home, the place looked great. Well, as great as a somewhat rundown double-wide mobile home could look.

  “Hey,” said Mom as she came in the door and kicked off her shoes. “Someone cleaned up in here.”

  Emily smiled at her.

  “What’s the big occasion?” asked Kyle. “Are we having a party?”

  Emily shrugged. “No. I just thought this place could use some help.”

  Her mom hugged her. “Thanks, sweetie. I appreciate it.”

  Emily wanted to hit her mom up for some cash now, but after hearing her gratitude, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to spoil everything. She hated looking like she’d only done it for money … even if it was the truth.

  “I’m so tired,” said Mom. “Such a long day. Do you guys mind if I just take a shower and call it a night?”

  “Not at all,” said Emily. This had been the norm since they’d moved here. “I’ve been busy today too and I’m tired.”

  “When are we going to get a TV?” asked Kyle as he poured a glass of milk.

  “Hey, I almost forgot. Rita from the restaurant offered me an old TV that her mother-in-law gave her. She said it’s in a cabinet that’s as big as a house. I told her we have lots of room and that we’ll pick it up this weekend.”

  “This weekend?” complained Kyle. “I’d be happy to go over and pick it up tonight.”

  “It’s too late,” said Mom.

  “How about tomorrow?” he begged. “Please, Mom. I’ve been working hard and I’m so bored that I’m about to go nuts. You don’t want me to start running around to find some excitement at night, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. A
nd you have been working hard.” She was starting to cry. “You’ve both been working hard. I’m so proud of you—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Kyle. “I wasn’t looking for thanks. Just say I can pick up that TV. I mean, like ASAP.”

  “I’ll talk with Rita tomorrow,” she promised.

  Before Emily went to bed, she read from the little New Testament that Morgan had given her. Then she prayed, finally asking God to help her to get six dollars and twenty-five cents by morning.

  chapter four

  By 8:30 the next morning, all three girls had stopped by Emily’s house to drop off their share of the entry fee. She thanked them and assured them that her mom would drop it off for them.

  “What’s all that about?” asked Mom as she rinsed out her coffee cup and set it in the sink.

  “The sandcastle contest,” said Emily, holding out the slightly rumpled application from the newspaper.

  “Huh?” Mom glanced at it then looked surprised. “You mean the one at the resort? This weekend?”

  Emily nodded. “Me and my friends want to enter.”

  “My friends and I,” her mom corrected.

  “You too?” teased Emily.

  Mom smiled warmly and took the paper. “But there’s a fee, Emily. Twenty-five dollars.”

  “I know.” Emily scooped out the bills and change that she’d been collecting in her pocket and set it on the counter. “We have most of it already.”

  “Most?”

  “All except for my share.”

  “How much is that?”

  “Six dollars and twenty-five cents.”

  Mom nodded. “Well, how about if I cover you on that?”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. We’re not totally penniless, Emily. And you’ve been doing such a great job of helping out. I’m so proud of the work you and your friends did for the trailer court. Hey, I’m happy to contribute.”

  “And we might win,” said Emily hopefully. “Morgan is our designer, and she’s really creative.”

  Mom smiled. “Yes, she definitely is. But I’ve heard that some very experienced sand sculptors are coming to town. And some people are really serious about this competition, honey. They practice all year long and go all over the country.”

  “But we’ll still have a chance,” said Emily with confidence. “Can you turn this in for us? Today is the deadline.”

  “No problem. I just happen to be going that way.”

  Emily put her arms around her mom. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Mom laughed. “No problem.”

  “I mean, for everything,” said Emily. “For getting us here to Boscoe Bay and for working so hard. I think it’s all totally worth it.”

  Mom nodded. “I do too. It’s just been a little hard starting out with nothing.”

  “Ready to go?” called Kyle from the backdoor.

  And then they were gone, just like every other day, and Emily had the house to herself. She straightened up the kitchen and wrote in her journal for a little while, but it was barely ten o’clock and she was already feeling bored. She wondered when Amy planned on holding their little election today. And since they still didn’t have a phone connected, Emily decided the only way to find out was to go to Morgan’s house. Of course, any excuse to go to Morgan’s was a good excuse. She felt more at home at the Evans’ than at her own home—mostly because there was always someone there. Plus, there was usually something good to eat.

  “Come in, Em,” called Morgan when Emily knocked on the screen door. Morgan was sitting on the living-room floor with a large tray of beads between her legs. “How’s it going?” she asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she looked at Emily.

  “Okay.” Emily sat down beside her. “Whatcha doing?”

  “Well, it was going to be a surprise …”

  “Oh. Want me to leave?”

  “No. Why don’t you stay and help me?”

  Then Morgan showed her what she was doing. She had some alphabet beads along with some colored ones. “First you put on two purple beads, then two blue, two green, then yellow, orange, red, and finally magenta. See.” She held up the leather string that was nearly half full of colorful beads.

  “It looks like a rainbow,” said Emily.

  “Yeah.” Now Morgan picked up a bead with the letter Y and slipped it on. This was followed by the letter A and N and another Y and finally L, which was really the beginning since Morgan had put the beads on backwards. Although it still didn’t make sense. LYNAY.”

  “Who’s Lynay?”

  “It’s a secret,” said Morgan as she handed Emily a piece of string. “At least for now. So, can you make another one just like it?”

  “Sure. Easy.” And Emily followed the same pattern. Both girls worked quietly. Morgan showed Emily how to finish the pattern with another rainbow on the other side of the letters.

  “That’s pretty,” said Emily. “But I’m curious about LYNAY.”

  The girls worked until they had four short strings of beads. “Finished,” announced Morgan.

  “What are they?”

  Morgan wrapped one around Emily’s wrist. “Bracelets.”

  “Cool.”

  “But it’s a secret, okay?”

  Emily nodded.

  “Oh, yeah. Amy called and the big election is supposed to be at one o’clock today. Carlie had to babysit her brothers this morning. After the election, we’re going down to the beach to practice our sand sculpture.”

  “Practice?”

  “Yeah, we need to work on the size and who does what. Three hours isn’t that long if we want it to look totally perfect. Want to see my drawing?”

  “Sure.”

  Morgan pocketed the bracelets, picked up her beading tray, and led Emily to her bedroom where she produced a sketch pad with a detailed drawing of SpongeBob lying on a beach blanket with all of his little friends nearby.

  “That is so cool,” said Emily. “And it doesn’t even look that complicated.”

  “But remember the sculpture is in 3-D.”

  “Three-D?”

  “You know, everything is carved and it has to have depth and dimension. It’s not like we can just draw it on the beach and be done. I’m guessing that SpongeBob will be about two feet high.”

  Emily nodded. “Yeah, I can see how we might need to practice it.”

  “Want to take these over to the bus?” asked Morgan as she held up some pillows that she’d sewn. Emily recognized the fabric squares that she had cut out. “I finished some curtains too. We can make a lunch and take them all over to the bus.”

  “Sure.”

  They made a quick lunch to take with them. Then, loaded up with pillows and curtains, they walked over to the bus. As Morgan unlocked the door, Emily asked if she thought it was okay to be at the bus when all four girls weren’t there.

  “I don’t see why not,” said Morgan. “But I guess I don’t know how the others will feel about it. I suppose it does make sense to have this stupid election so that we can sort of know what to expect.”

  “Well, we know that you’ll be the one elected,” said Emily. “I’m sure voting for you.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s a shoo-in,” said Morgan. “I mean, Carlie has a vote too. And Amy might make some really good points as to why she should be president. What if I voted for her?”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  Morgan laughed. “Probably not. But I’d have to be fair. If I was convinced that she would be best and if you guys were too … well, I’d have to vote for her.”

  Emily shuddered to think what their club would be like if Amy were president. She imagined a horrible dictatorship where they’d all work hard, and Amy would sit around and tell them what to do. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Amy, but maybe she didn’t totally trust her.

  “It looks pretty good in here,” said Emily after they’d hung the new curtains and put the new pillows on the couch.

  “Yeah,” said Morgan. “But I’d still lik
e to make something for the bed. That blanket on the mattress just isn’t cutting it for me. And I think it needs a whole bunch more pillows.”

  Emily laughed. “Well, I’m sure by the time you’re done it will be so cool that Better Buses and Gardens will want to feature it in their magazine.”

  “Hello in there,” called Carlie as she and Amy came into the bus.

  “How long have you guys been here?” asked Amy.

  “Just long enough to hang some curtains,” said Morgan.

  “Looks nice.” Carlie looked around and nodded.

  “Campaigning are we?” asked Amy.

  “Are we?” replied Morgan, pointing to the button pinned on Amy’s shirt. “Go with Ngo?”

  Amy laughed. “Just wanted to show you guys that I believe in myself.” She set an empty tissue box, a small pad of paper, and some pencils on the table.

  “Should we get this over with?” asked Morgan as she picked up a pencil.

  “Not so fast,” said Amy, snatching the pencil back. “We need to do nominations first.”

  “I nominate Morgan,” said Emily.

  “Wait,” said Amy. “We need to take notes.”

  “Notes?” said Morgan. “What is this? School?”

  “If we’re a club, we should take notes,” said Amy. “Actually, I mean minutes. We should take minutes. Do I hear any volunteers?”

  Emily held out her hand to take the notebook from Amy. “Here, I’ll do it. Let’s just get this show on the road. We need to get out to the beach and work on SpongeBob. You should see Morgan’s drawing. It’s really—”

  “Not right now,” said Amy. “First things first.” She pointed to the couch. “Everyone sit down.” Then she pointed to the table. “Emily, you sit there so you can take notes.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Emily.

  “Don’t you mean minutes?” said Carlie with a snicker.

  “You guys!” said Amy, losing her patience.

  “Okay, okay.” Morgan held up her hands as if to surrender and then sat down on the couch. “Go ahead, Amy.”

  “All right.” Amy continued to stand. “Let’s begin nominations.”

  “I nominate Morgan,” said Carlie.

  “For what?” said Amy with a scowl.

 

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