Attack of the 50 Foot Wallflower

by Christian McKay Heidicker

  So much for playing Nancy Drew that day.

  • • •

  Freeman High looked like an old insane asylum, because that’s just what it used to be. The halls were filled with boys and girls who seemed to be near-perfect photocopies of each other—greasers or jocks, knee-high skirts or plain dresses. All of them glanced at me with that familiar disappointment. That’s Loretta Lane’s daughter. It was only a matter of time before one of them whispered, Daughter of Ook. I sat through home ec, American history, and nukology, all of which might as well have been in a different language.

  All morning, I kept a smile plastered to my lips like a tightrope walker, grinning ear to ear but terrified I’d tumble into tears at any moment. Ma was out there somewhere. She needed me.

  The moment the bell rang, I hustled into the hallway, slid into the shadowy space between the lockers and the water fountain, and buried my face in my hands.

  “You must be Phoebe Lane!” a voice said above me.

  I pushed myself upright against the wall, brightening like a rising sun. “Why, yes, I am.”

  “I’m Beth,” the girl said. “It’s so good to meet you.”

  The girl had a lisp, so I couldn’t tell if her name was Beth or Bess at first. She wore Buddy Holly glasses, a ponytail, and a black skirt and polka-dot blouse that buttoned up to her throat. She smelled like flowery lotion and had the kind of bust that was so big Ma said it gave girls back problems.

  “Um, how do you do?” I said.

  Beth hooked her arm through mine and led me down the hallway. “When I first heard Loretta Lane had a daughter, I thought you might be spoiled. But after I heard about what you did to that police officer? I thought, I just have to meet her now!” She pulled me in close. “You’re a real rabble-rouser, aren’t you?”

  “That was an accident,” I said, hoping I wasn’t getting a reputation for assaulting police officers. I needed to stay invisible until I found Ma.

  Beth winked at me like she didn’t believe a word. “Sure. Some accident.”

  She continued to guide me down the hall, past lockers and classrooms and greasers combing their hair. No one had held my arm like this since my best friend, Katie, when I was in the second grade. It made me squeamish. I wanted to pull away, but I didn’t think that’s what normal girls did in this situation.

  “Officer Graham is my brother,” Beth said. “The guy who looks like a weasel? We don’t look anything alike ’cause I was sorta adopted a couple years back. He’s got a heart of gold, but you’d never know it because he’s always trying to impress the other officers. It’s just one big boys’ club.”

  Heart of gold, huh? I wondered if Beth had ever heard him tell the joke about the blind carpenter.

  “Anyway,” Beth said, “he said your finger was as well aimed as a rocket ship.” She gave a little shudder. “Boy, that Officer Shelley gives me the chills. And not the good kind. He’s always staring at my chest. I’d give him a good poke in the eye myself if it wouldn’t get my brother in trouble. Some men, right? If they can’t get it anywhere else, they go for the young and helpless.” She squeezed my arm. “Or maybe not so helpless.”

  That made me smile a little.

  “Did your ma make it back?” Beth asked.

  “She sure did.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Beth led me straight out the school’s back doors and into a fenced enclosure with a trash bin that smelled like turned orange juice. She glanced back toward the school to make sure no one was around and then closed the gate.

  “If you need to cry, do it back here,” she said, giving me a sympathetic look. “That way the girls don’t make fun of you and the boys don’t try and offer you their smelly jackets.”

  So this was why she grabbed me from the lockers. My eyes watered up.

  “You want to talk about it?” Beth said.

  I shook my head and fumbled in my purse for a cigarette.

  Beth watched me smoke. “Those things will kill ya, you know.”

  “What do you mean?” I’d heard of girls accidentally setting their hair on fire with a flicked ember, but nothing beyond that.

  Beth leaned against the bin. “Forget I said anything. You mind if I ask a couple questions? Get your mind off things?”

  I sniffed and smoked. “Shoot.”

  “How’d your ma get the monkey smell off?”

  “He was an ape,” I said, exhaling smoke. “And she said he didn’t smell too bad, actually. Like a breeze off damp grass.”

  I’d seen Ma onstage enough times that I knew just how to answer these questions. After her dance number, she would smile in the spotlight in her light cream dress with the big black buttons, the sleeve torn away like a candy wrapper or a banana peel, and she would answer the same questions over and over again.

  “Were you frightened for your life, Miss Lane?”

  “I was scared witless! But I knew the United States Air Force would pull through!”

  “How do you feel about gorillas now?”

  “I try to avoid them, along with heights.”

  “Is there a special fella in your life?”

  “Why? Was someone in the audience asking?”

  The crowd would whistle, laugh, and clap the same every time. And every time, an audience member would call out, “Will you do it for us, Loretta? Please?” And Ma would say, “Oh, very well,” and throw her arm across her eyes and scream like the life was about to be torn from her breast. And the audience would burst into applause. Every time.

  Meanwhile, I’d be watching from the back of the tent, and wondering what it was like to hang there between Ook’s giant forefinger and thumb, heels dangling thousands of feet above the pavement, the ape’s massive leathery face sniffing at me, the air from his nostrils tugging at my dress.

  I would have had a heart attack. Ma turned it into a stage show. How would I get by without her?

  “Did she wet herself?” Beth asked. “I would’ve.”

  That ape was nothing but a big softy, Ma would tell me after she’d stepped out of the spotlight. You could see it in his eyes. Gentle as an infant, with palms soft as coconut oil. Shame what happened to him.

  “I don’t think so,” I told Beth. Then I swallowed. “I’ll have to ask her.”

  Beth blushed. “Did she see his . . . thing?”

  Beth might as well have tossed a bucket of ice water over me I was so surprised. No one had ever asked Ma that question before. No one except her curious daughter, that was.

  “She said it was bigger than a school bus,” I said.

  Beth laughed and snorted. I laughed a little too.

  “Boy, having a famous actress for a ma,” Beth said. “All that traveling around. You must be so . . . lonely.”

  Again, I was at a loss for words. The girls in these suburban towns always asked me if life on the road was glamorous or exciting. Never this. I took a final drag of my cigarette just as the lunch bell rang.

  “Well, we’ll make sure you aren’t lonely while you’re in Pennybrooke,” Beth said, and took my arm again, squeezing it in the soft space between her arm and her side. We left the trash area. “Are you free this afternoon? The Girl Scouts are meeting at the church at three thirty, and I think you’d fit right in.”

  “Ma needs me this afternoon,” I said, which wasn’t a lie, really. The second school let out, I’d be back on the hunt. I’d spend the night searching the storm drains if I had to.

  Not that I would have joined the Girl Scouts anyway. Beth was sweet, but I’d learned not to make friends when I’d just have to leave them behind in a couple weeks. Or worse, watch as a Shiver swept through and killed anyone I’d grown close to. I’d learned that the hard way with Katie.

  “Ah well,” Beth said. “Another time, then.”

  As we walked to class, I left my arm in hers. But only because that’s what girls on television do.

  • • •

  “Yoo-hoo!”

  The moment Beth and I entered the
lunchroom, a blond girl waved us over. Her hair was styled in famous bangs with braided pigtails.

  “That’s Rhoda Penmark,” Beth whispered as we walked toward the girl. “When she was eight, her mom slipped her enough sleeping pills to knock out a herd of cows and then shot herself. The hospital pumped Rhoda’s stomach in the nick of time. Isn’t that wild?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Wild.”

  And to think I’d been upset with Ma just for dragging me to Pennybrooke. It was easy to forget that some monsters didn’t have fur or tentacles.

  “Then again,” Beth whispered, “Rhoda also claims she was struck by lightning. So who knows?”

  “What were you saying about me?” Rhoda said with a smile when we reached the table.

  Beth’s face lit up like a traffic light. “It wasn’t anything about you. I was just saying—”

  “You were telling her about my mother, weren’t you?” Rhoda said, laying one hand on top of the other. “That’s all right. I don’t mind. Mother was very confused, the poor dear. She thought she’d try to protect her one sweet daughter from the cruelties of the world by replacing my vitamins with pills that make you so sleepy you won’t ever wake up again.” Rhoda sharpened her smile at Beth. “She wanted to keep me safe from the monsters and the murderers and the little girls who whisper secrets about me.”

  Beth bit her lip and stared at her shoes.

  Rhoda was pretty but unsettling. She wore a gingham dress and a heart-shaped silver locket and had a look so cool it wouldn’t melt butter. Her hair wasn’t blond so much as white. I might’ve believed she was an alien if schools didn’t test students for that sort of thing.

  “So,” Rhoda said to me, “you’re the girl who nearly had Officer Shelley’s eye as a souvenir. I’m not sure about your flirting tactics, Phoebe Lane. I prefer it when the boys can actually look at me.”

  I remembered the gunmetal gray of Shelley’s gaze. “He’s at least fifteen years my senior.”

  Rhoda shrugged. “To each her own, I guess.”

  For having a mother who tried to murder her before shooting herself, Rhoda seemed unruffled by the world. Every line she spoke was light and airy like she was planning a picnic.

  A boy with curly hair and a ratty jean jacket approached the table and set a cup of tapioca and a spoon in front of Rhoda. “One tapioca. And one spoon, so clean you can see yourself.”

  “Thank you, Calvin,” Rhoda said.

  Calvin noticed me and smirked. “Who’s the new broad? She looks like someone told her her cat exploded.”

  I quickly wiped at my eyes while Beth gave him a sizzling look.

  “What?” Calvin said. “I didn’t mean nothing by it. Exploding cats are a national tragedy.”

  “This is Phoebe,” Beth said. “Loretta Lane’s daughter. Isn’t she pretty?”

  I blushed. The only people who ever complimented me were Ma and gross old carnies who couldn’t get it anywhere else.

  “So your ma’s the actress with a thing for apes,” Calvin said. He stroked his chin and sized me up. “I don’t see the resemblance. To the gorilla, I mean.”

  I snorted. Rhoda scowled and peeled open her tapioca.

  Most boys were over the moon when they heard that the Loretta Lane, a true-blue celebrity, had moved to town, and that her daughter might be found at the local malt shop. But their excitement died every time they saw how much like Ma I was not. And one of them would always come up with the same tired nickname that never stopped stinging: “Daughter of Ook.”

  “I’m glad you’re around, Phoebe Lane,” Calvin said. “We could use some new flavors at Freeman. Besides, you can keep Beth here from toppling over. It’s a miracle of science that she keeps upright with those things.”

  Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s almost like I’m not standing right here.”

  “I was talking about your glasses!” Calvin said.

  “You’re excused, Calvin,” Rhoda said neatly.

  “But you said if I bought you a snack I could sit with you.”

  She took a bite of her tapioca. “Yes, but I didn’t specify what day.”

  Calvin sighed. “Next time I’m getting it in writing. On a napkin. In blood.” He flipped up his collar and was about to leave, but then a thought turned him back to Rhoda. “I’m gonna be on TV someday. A comedian. Famous. And all the women will be knocking down my trailer door just to get a lock of my hair. So you’d better get a taste while you can.”

  Rhoda gave him a look as cold as a January icicle until he left. Then she licked her spoon and stared at me. “My dad used to be a colonel, but now he owns the roller rink. If you’re nice to me, Phoebe, maybe I’ll let you in for free.”

  I tried on my TV smile. “Sounds like a blast.”

  She pointed with her spoon. “You might want to touch up that nail polish though.”

  I looked at my nails, flaking after days of neglect. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

  A deafening sound wailed through the lunchroom. The school siren. My fingers flew to my ears as kids ducked under the tables. I followed them, cradling my trembling knees in the shadows. The Shiver couldn’t be happening now. Last I checked, Daddy’s eyes were still fixed on the horizon.

  The siren died away, and Beth patted my leg.

  “You never been in a duck-and-cover drill before?” she said.

  I took my fingers out of my ears and shook my head, rattled. The lunchroom doors flew open, and figures swept through the cafeteria in fluttering capes and scowling masks.

  “The drama team,” Beth said, grinning. “Last month they made a giant tarantula, each one playing a leg. I’m guessing this is banshees.”

  We watched the figures as they fluttered by, making whooooo sounds.

  “And everyone just hides under the table?” I said.

  “Fun, right?” Beth said.

  “Sure, a real crack-up,” I said, then thought, until a real Shiver shows its face.

  Rhoda hadn’t said a word since the drill began. She watched the figures like they were the most romantic thing in the world, eyes flickering as if lit by candlelight.

  I’d almost forgotten I had a leaping creature made of marshmallow fluff waiting for me back at the motel. I thought the Pomeranian might nip my nose clean off it was so excited to see me. The Cracker Jacks were untouched, and the dog hadn’t made a spot of mess in the bathroom.

  “Good dog,” I said, but didn’t pet it. “Let’s get you some real dog food and find your owner.”

  I grabbed my purse, opened the door, and then stopped abruptly. There was Officer Shelley, fist raised, about to knock.

  “Hello again,” he said. “Thought I’d check in.”

  My mouth stopped working. Pan-Cake started to growl.

  “Your ma make it back?” Shelley asked, peering over my shoulder.

  I hoped my shadow was blocking the nail polish stain.

  “She’s just out picking up a couple TV dinners and Coca-Colas,” I said, my lips too tense to smile. “Should be back in a jiffy.”

  Shelley leaned against the doorframe. “In that case I’ll wait.”

  My mind sent fishhooks out the door, trying to snag something that would rescue me. A storm welled on the horizon, bruising the sky with storm light. In the parking lot, the motel manager sprayed out the gutters with a hose, but he only smiled and waved, figuring I was safe with the man with a badge.

  “Strange for a mother to leave her child alone so long and so often,” Officer Shelley said. “I have half a mind to drag you back to my house and make a proper lady out of you.” He laid his hand on my shoulder just like he had at the station, thumb resting on my clavicle. “My wife’s with her sister for the weekend.”

  Just then one of my fishhooks snagged something. “I appreciate the invitation, but I’m actually on my way out.” I ducked the officer’s hand and pushed past him. “I’ve been invited to join the, um, Girl Scouts.”

  “That so?” Shelley said.

  He didn’t look too ha
ppy about letting me go, but the dog was snarling between us.

  “Yep, imagine that,” I said, backing down the stairs. “Little old me in Girl Scouts. Toodle-oo.”

  I took off down Main Street, Pan-Cake trotting by my side.

  • • •

  Clouds swept overhead, blanketing the sky in layered grays and obscuring Daddy’s face. I was headed toward the church because I didn’t dare get caught by Officer Shelley anywhere else, when a voice called out to me.

  “Phoebe! Oh, Phoebe!”

  My shoes stuttered to a stop. There was Rhoda standing in the open doorway of one of the Levitt ranches, flapping her hand at me.

  “Come to me, will you?” she called. “All I have is socks.”

  I walked up the perfectly straight sidewalk that cut through the perfectly mowed lawn.

  “My shoes are at the cobbler’s getting new cleats put on,” she said. “Apparently, I walk harder than anyone else and wear my soles right down to the leather. Isn’t that funny?”

  “Funny,” I said, imagining Rhoda stomping the heads of baby birds. I was in no mood for smiling. I’d spent my entire TV personality at school that morning.

  “Why, who is this darling girl?” Rhoda said, crouching down and opening her arms.

  Pan-Cake ran up and placed its front paws on Rhoda’s knees while Rhoda combed her fingers through its fur. I guess the dog couldn’t sense evil after all.

  Beyond Rhoda I could see into a living room with flowered wallpaper and plastic-covered furniture and a coffee table with a little glass dish filled with candy. I didn’t get many chances to see inside normal houses.

  “I just love little dogs like this,” Rhoda said in a syrupy voice. “But Dad won’t let me have one.” She squished Pan-Cake’s face, rubbing her nose against its wet black one. “I’ll bet if he came home and saw something as beautiful as you, he’d just have to let me keep you, wouldn’t he?”