Maria Mendoza concluded by saying, “I’ll have to confer with the other two commissioners, but I think they’ll agree, and we can relocate the prairie dog colony to Scrub Jay Ridge.”
“Thank you,” the mayor said. “But I’m not sure that’s good enough, Ms. Mendoza. We have a contractual relationship with Keelor Construction to begin building in unincorporated Willow Creek. We can’t vote tonight to agree to the removal of the animals without being absolutely certain there’s a home for them on county open space.”
A mumbling and grumbling broke out in the council chambers.
“Now, we do have a work session next Friday afternoon. If you can assure us at that time that all three Commissioners have agreed to this relocation, we can move forward with a resolution allowing their removal the following weekend. If not, I’m afraid that the extermination of the prairie dogs will need to take place the following Saturday so that construction can begin on Monday morning.”
Jeannie saw two Council members nodding in agreement, and her heart sank. Even with the petitions, the Council wouldn’t act. Could Maria Mendoza get the other two County Commissioners to agree before next Friday? After all this, were the prairie dogs still going to be killed?
The Council acted swiftly to table the motion until the following week. Then the mayor called for a short recess to allow the large number of people who had come just for the prairie dog issue to exit the chamber.
“I’m going to go talk to Maria Mendoza,” Betsy said as she walked with Jeannie and her family and friends toward to the parking lot. “I promise you that we’ll push as hard as we can to get the Commissioners and the Council to act on this by Friday, Jeannie. I’ll call you and let you know what’s happening.”
Mr. Donelson and Mrs. Woodley came over to congratulate the students on their efforts and to offer encouragement. In spite of this, Jeannie and the others were quiet on the drive home. Disappointment was in the air. Had defeat just been snatched from the jaws of victory?
__________
Friday morning the local paper carried another front-page picture of Jeannie. She was holding up the petitions at the council meeting.
“You look a little like the Statue of Liberty,” her mother teased over breakfast. But Jeannie could tell she was proud. She just wished she knew whether the Commissioners and Council would act in time, or whether the whole effort had been for nothing.
Jeannie had slept a little later than usual, and she had to hurry to make it to school on time. Math class had barely begun when the secretary’s voice broke in over the intercom requesting that Jeannie Broderson be sent to the office.
Jeannie realized that most of the kids and the teacher probably thought that the principal wanted to talk with her about last night’s Council meeting. But Jeannie suspected it had something to do with the Watsons.
“Go right on in. The principal’s expecting you,” the office secretary said when Jeannie arrived.
Jeannie opened the inner office door and found Mr. Caldwell, the principal, with Ryan and Bobby Watson and their father. She stood just inside feeling awkward.
“Come on in and have a seat, Jeannie,” Mr. Caldwell said. His voice was friendly enough, but he looked serious.
“Mr. Donelson told me yesterday that the petitions had been taken and thrown in the dumpster. He said you felt Bobby and Ryan might be involved since they had been at the prairie dog poisoning last Saturday in Longview, and viewed that whole issue quite differently from the way you do.”
He paused, and Jeannie said, “Yes, sir,” thinking she was expected to say something.
“Mr. Conway reported Bobby and Ryan climbing around the cafeteria dumpsters yesterday. Since the petitions were found there, this seemed suspicious, so we asked Mr. Watson and the boys to come in this morning and tell us what they might know about all this. I felt you should be present, too, Jeannie.”
Mr. Watson looked at his two sons. “You boys know that I’m no fan of prairie dogs. But you know that I don’t hold with cheating or stealing, either. If you had anything to do with taking those petitions, I want you to speak up. Now.”
“I don’t know anything about any stupid petitions,” Ryan said quickly. “We were horsing around the dumpsters, that’s all. Big deal! And nobody can prove different.” He looked defiantly around the room.
Bobby sat staring at the carpet. He said nothing.
“Bobby?” his father said.
Bobby looked at his brother and then at his father. “I got nothing to say,” he muttered.
Jeannie’s heart sank.
“That’s not good enough,” Bobby’s father said. “I want a straight answer. Did you have anything to do with taking those petitions? Do you know anything about it at all?”
Bobby wore an agonized expression. He looked at his brother. “I’m sorry, Ryan, but I can’t lie to Dad.”
Now it was Ryan’s turn to say nothing.
“Tell me, Bobby,” his father urged.
“Ryan said he wanted to see how many petitions were in the box in Mr. Donelson’s room. So I showed him yesterday during lunch. Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed them all and ran out of the room. I chased him, and I told him he had to put them back.” Bobby looked at his brother while Ryan glared at him.
“Then what happened, Bobby?” asked Mr. Caldwell.
“He ran outside and climbed up on the dumpster by the cafeteria. He threw them in. And then Mr. Conway came out and chased us away. I figured there was nothing I could do. Then last night at the meeting, it was kind of like . . . like . . . magic. Jeannie held up all the petitions. I didn’t know how she’d found them, but I was glad.”
Jeannie felt a confused sort of relief. Ryan Watson had been the thief just as she’d thought. But she’d been wrong about Bobby.
Mr. Watson slumped in his chair and said nothing for a moment. Then he said, “Mr. Caldwell, I apologize for what my sons did. I’ve been worried about finding work, money being so tight at home, that I’ve been pretty wild in my talk about the prairie dogs. What my boys did was wrong. They should be punished. But Bobby, I’m proud of you for speaking up and telling the truth.”
“I’m proud of you, too, Bobby,” said Mr. Caldwell. “Admitting your part in this was hard. Fortunately, no permanent harm was done. Jeannie and her friends found the petitions, and hopefully the prairie dogs will be relocated and the mall construction will go forward as planned. Mr. Donelson assures me that except for those involved in finding the petitions, no one knows anything about the theft. We’ll keep it that way.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Watson said.
“As to consequences, Bobby, I think you’ve been punished enough. As for Ryan, I’m going to suggest that for the next month he stay one hour after school every day to help Mr. Conway empty trash. If anyone asks about it, he can simply say he was caught playing on the dumpsters and this is his punishment.”
Once outside the office, Ryan all but ran off in one direction, while Jeannie walked in the other, back toward her math class. She was conscious of Bobby just a few steps behind her.
“Jeannie,” he called. She stopped and turned. “I’m awful sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I apologize.”
Jeannie felt all kinds of mixed up feelings as she looked at him. She knew that Bobby believed in his father’s right to work as much as she believed in the prairie dogs’ right to live. He was caught between protecting his brother and lying to his father. And she remembered how recently she had forged her best friend’s name to get her into the talent show. What was right and what was wrong?
“Apology accepted,” she said, and held out her hand.
Chapter Eleven
Jeannie was aware of everyone’s eyes following her as she entered the math classroom and took her seat. She sat quietly through the rest of the period, her mind going over and over the events that had just happened, not
hearing a word that her teacher said.
When the bell finally rang, Mary Jo hurried over to Jeannie and asked, “What was all that about?”
Jeannie wished she could tell her right then, but someone might overhear them talking.
“The principal wanted to talk about the Council meeting last night,” she said. “I’ll tell you more later.”
Mary Jo nodded as if that made sense.
After fourth period science, the girls rushed to the music room where the list of acts for the Extravaganza was supposed to be posted.
The girls stopped and surveyed the mob scene. A noisy crowd milled about and there was a curious mixture of loud laughter, shouts, and whispering. Two girls had burst into tears from either joy or despair; it was hard to tell which.
“You go look at the list and tell me,” Mary Jo said, first clutching Jeannie’s arm to hold her back, and then pushing her forward.
What had she done? Jeannie thought. What if Mary Jo’s name wasn’t on the list? Her best friend would be heartbroken, and it would be Jeannie’s fault. She was the one who had nagged at Mary Jo and finally signed her friend’s name on the list. Jeannie tried to stifle the panic. She pushed her way forward until she could finally read the typewritten sheet taped to the outside of the door.
Here it was in black and white: “Mary Jo Matthews, vocal solo.” Her heart soared!
Jeannie turned with a shriek, barreled back out through the crowd, and rushed to hug Mary Jo. “You made it!” she said. “You made it! Not that I had any doubts!”
“Really? Honest?” Mary Jo then rushed forward to confirm the good news with her own eyes. It took a while for her to work her way to the front, but she finally did. Jeannie watched as she wiggled back out again.
“I’m so happy to be in it,” Mary Jo said when she’d reached Jeannie, “that at this moment, I’m not even scared about performing.”
“That’ll come later,” Jeannie promised and grinned.
Several people, seeing her name on the list, came up to congratulate Mary Jo, and almost everyone commented on how good she looked wearing contacts. Jeannie was glad to see her friend being the center of attention for a change.
The crowd thinned a little, and both girls went up and studied the list again to see who else would perform.
“Look!” Mary Jo said. “Master of ceremonies-–Charlie Valenchini. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “It’s not Ryan Watson after all! Can you believe that?”
Jeannie stood mute. Could the theft of the petitions have anything to do with this decision not to use Ryan? Then she quickly discarded that idea. Miss Rafferty and Mrs. Greene knew nothing about the stolen petitions.
“Charlie was one of the kids helping make the selections at the auditions, but I didn’t even think about him being asked to emcee,” Mary Jo said. “I was so sure it would be Ryan.”
“Maybe the teachers groan about Ryan’s awful jokes as much as we do,” Jeannie whispered. She felt a faint twinge of pity, thinking how confident Ryan had been showing off in the cafeteria a few days ago. Then Jeannie remembered how he had just lied to his father about the petitions, and the twinge went away. She had forgiven Bobby, but not Ryan.
Jeannie hugged her friend again. “Oh, Mary Jo! This is going to be the best Extravaganza ever! And it’s only a week away!” Jeannie didn’t want to spoil this moment for her friend, so she didn’t mention the other event still weighing heavily on her. The fate of the prairie dogs was also only a week away.
__________
Next Thursday afternoon, after a long week of practicing for the talent show and worrying about the prairie dogs, Jeannie and Mary Jo walked halfway home from school together. Then they parted to get ready for the Extravaganza. Jeannie hurried inside her house and upstairs. She tossed her backpack into a corner and took a hot shower and washed her hair. She put on her long, white terrycloth robe and used a blow dryer on her hair.
Then she dressed carefully. To her surprise, Jeannie found herself feeling a little nervous. Just a touch of stage fright, she told herself. Nothing to really worry about. She knew the music, and she could count on Mary Jo to be great.
Her parents wouldn’t be home for another hour. Jeannie had plenty of time to do her nails. After the first coat dried, she carefully applied a second. While the final coat dried, Jeannie called Mary Jo.
“Nervous?” Jeannie asked.
“Yes,” Mary Jo said. Then she laughed. “But I’m not supposed to be. It’s too early for that. On my schedule it says get nervous at 6:30 p.m. How about you?”
“A little,” Jeannie admitted. “My nails are drying as we speak. I just hope my hair looks okay.”
“Your hair always looks good,” Mary Jo said. “It’s mine that has a mind of its own. And Mom says no braid tonight. So I’ll be wearing it down and hoping for the best.”
“You’ll look great in that new dress your Mom bought you,” Jeannie said. “The plum-colored one. Everything’s going to be perfect!”
“Almost perfect,” Mary Jo said, and Jeannie thought she heard a little sigh.
“Hey! What’s wrong? Tonight you’re a star.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Mary Jo said. “Not really. It’s just—I miss Karen. I don’t think I’d feel so scared if she could be here tonight. I mean I’m glad she’s at college and everything, but she kind of helped talk me into this. You know. Family tradition and all that. But she won’t be out there listening and cheering me on.”
“Well, I’ll bet she’s thinking about you tonight,” Jeannie said. “She’d be so proud.”
__________
It was another one of those nights when Jeannie’s mother and father rushed home from work with not a moment to spare. Food was put on the table and eaten quickly, and everyone scurried to get ready and out of the house to get to school by 6:30 p.m., an hour before the Extravaganza was scheduled to start.
Just before she went downstairs, Jeannie surveyed herself in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. She wore a pale blue straight dress, which brought out the blue of her eyes. And, miracle of miracles, she was having a good hair day. Each blond strand behaved.
She hurried down the stairs, picked up the music from the piano, and climbed in the backseat of the car.
At the school, she left her mother and father at the main door of the auditorium talking with their friends while she hurried to room ten, which was the closest room to the stage door. As soon as she entered the room, Jeannie was engulfed in bedlam. Everyone was arriving and talking at once. The air was heavy with dozens of different perfumes. She could hardly breathe. The din grew louder and louder as more people arrived. And there was a constant rushing in and out to the bathrooms.
Every now and then, there’d be a knock at the door, and one of the girls who was handing out programs would come in with a card or flowers for one of the performers.
Jeannie and Mary Jo gave each other a critical once over.
“Your hair looks good pulled up and back like that,” Jeannie said. “And your dress is perfect.”
“Thanks,” Mary Jo said. “You look great.”
Then they huddled in a quiet corner. They’d only been there for a few minutes when one of the program girls came in, looked around, and then came hurrying over to them.
“For you,” she said, and handed a bouquet of roses to Mary Jo. “Just came from the florist.” There was a card tucked into the cone-shaped paper holding the roses and fern.
Quickly Mary Jo read the card. Her eyes sparkled. “It just says ‘Tradition!’ They must be from Karen. So even though she’s not here, she’s thinking of me tonight.”
“They’re beautiful!” Jeannie said.
“Oh, Jeannie.” Mary Jo’s voice trembled. “I can’t do it!”
Jeannie’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean, you can’t do it?”
“I can’t sing tonight. Listen to me! My voice cracks. I can hardly whisper, let alone sing! How did I ever let you talk me into this?”
“You’ll be fine,” Jeannie said, feeling more nervous by the minute herself. Maybe Mary Jo was right. Maybe the whole thing had been a big mistake. But it couldn’t be, not with the way Mary Jo could sing.
Just then Miss Rafferty entered the room and blinked the lights off and on twice to get everyone’s attention. The room quieted.
“It’s almost time to start,” she said. “I know it’s going to be a great show. There’s a ton of talent in this room, and I’m proud of all of you. From this point on, we’ve got to keep it to a whisper in here. I’ll go on stage in just a minute and start the show. Break a leg everybody!”
Miss Rafferty left with the students who were first and second on the program, while Mrs. Greene quieted those who remained.
“I’m glad we’re not first,” Mary Jo whispered. Jeannie saw her friend shiver.
“Me, too,” Jeannie said quietly.
With the room quiet, those waiting to perform could hear the music faintly and the applause from the audience. One by one, the students left the room apprehensively and returned relieved. Finally, Miss Rafferty called Mary Jo and Jeannie.
For one awful moment, Jeannie thought Mary Jo wasn’t going to come. She stood there, wide-eyed and unmoving. Jeannie took her hand, and found it was clammy. Gently, she led her forward.
Backstage, the girls stood holding hands in the wings as they listened quietly to a piano solo. Jason Strecker played a Chopin nocturne. He played beautifully, and there was long applause when he was finished.
After Jason exited the stage, Charlie Valenchini announced, “Our next number is a vocal solo. ‘Memories’ will be sung by Mary Jo Matthews accompanied by Jeannie Broderson.”
The girls gave one last squeeze before releasing each other’s hands and walking on stage. As soon as they stepped out into the light, Jeannie saw a change come over Mary Jo. She smiled and walked forward like an old pro while Jeannie exhaled in relief as she took her place at the piano.
Stand Up and Whistle Page 9