I would like to have them eating right out of my hand, but I don’t want to see my finger snap off, so I toss a few banana chunks. The ducks scramble, and I have to keep throwing pieces because they look like they might attack each other if they don’t each get enough.
Mrs. Chang twice has to clap and say, “All right, calm down.”
They listen to her, but really only for a few moments and then they are back to being crazy birds.
After the banana is gone we move on to the carrots. They like these vegetables, but not as much. I end the feeding with pieces of the bell pepper, which is good, but not a duck favorite.
I’d love to have a duck, but I’m pretty sure my parents wouldn’t go for it. I can’t see them digging up the backyard and putting in a pond and duck house, even though my mom could get all the stuff she needed at a discount from work.
But we’d have to have more than one bird because I think a single duck would be very lonely. It seems like being part of a pushy group is a big joy for a duck.
These ducks have names, but they are in Chinese and they disappear from my mind right after I hear Mrs. Chang say them. I can’t expect the ducks to wear collars with name tags, even though that would be very cute.
Once the ducks realize that snack time is over, they go to the pond and get into the water and they paddle around in a very excited way.
Maybe I’m imagining it, but they seem to know that we’re watching.
And they look so happy.
TWENTY-TWO
I’m going to be at two rehearsals every day, and that means the schedule in our house will need to change. Mom only has one break and that’s when she goes to get us.
Randy asks if he should just sit through the second practice and then Mom or Dad would only need to drive to the theater once, but I say in a too-loud voice, “No. Shawn Barr has to have closed rehearsals and you’re only a Munchkin!”
I feel bad right away, especially when I see Randy look down at the floor as if there’s something very important on the rug next to his feet.
I just hurt his feelings.
I’m thinking only of myself and not of Randy or of my mom and the extra driving.
But I don’t say I’m sorry or that I’ll see if it’s okay for Randy to be there. I want to be the only kid with the adults in the second rehearsal, and I want that enough to be selfish.
I wait.
My mom stays silent.
So does Randy.
Then I say in a softer voice, “Mom, I can see if Olive could take me home. Then you don’t have to go to the theater twice.”
I hope that I sound helpful. But I’m actually thinking now even more about myself because I realize how fun it would be to have car time with Olive!
I smile at Mom. I stretch my mouth wide, and it sort of sticks on my teeth.
We have pictures when I’m doing this and it’s not a great look. I’m going to have to practice something loose that is more genuine. I try to use the tools I’m learning from Shawn Barr about feeling the emotion from the inside.
But I’m pretty sure feeling guilty is what’s coming through my lips.
Mom says, “Well, this is a very busy time at the garden center, and I really don’t think I can leave work four times a day.”
I answer, “Of course not. I’ll see what I can do.”
My mom looks at me and it’s very uncomfortable. She has a way of seeing my truth, and I just can’t keep this fake smile on my face.
Then I have a new thought. I say, “Mrs. Chang might be in the play. I’m sure I could ride home with her.”
I can tell that my mom immediately likes this idea. “Mrs. Chang’s going to be performing?”
Randy looks up from the rug. If he was hurt, he doesn’t show it anymore. He says, “She’s too tall to be a Munchkin.”
I explain about the winged monkey audition, and I also say that Mrs. Chang’s going to (hopefully) be doing more of the costumes and she’s a good driver and of course lives on our street.
My mom thinks this is a perfect solution. She says, “It’s possible she’ll be going in early—maybe because of the costuming. That means she might also be able to drive you kids to practice. Then I could just have your father swing by and pick up Randy on his way home. I wouldn’t have to drive at all!”
This is the classic “Give ’em an inch and they take a mile.” Again, an expression that was made up by a big exaggerator. If you gave someone an extra inch of something, like say a piece of cloth, they would never take a mile of it. What if a girl wanted an extra inch of yarn to tie into a bow to put on a package? And the person selling the yarn said, “Yeah, sure. Take this extra inch.” Then the girl said, “I need a mile.”
Who would even want a mile of yarn?
Anyway, I’m not asking Mrs. Chang to drive us there, even though I nod as if maybe that will all happen in the future.
I leave the kitchen, and go to my room to work on my scrapbook. I got white duck feathers from Mrs. Chang, and now I put them onto their own page.
A while later I go back into the kitchen and eat eight apricots. I will probably get a stomachache, but I can’t help myself. When I’m around apricots I just lose control. They are perfect. Fortunately they are only in the house in the summer. I feel bad for the family because I just ate the whole bowl.
I don’t eat the sandwich that Mom made for me, but luckily Randy finishes his and is happy to take mine too, so I won’t get yelled at for wasting food. There is nothing worse in my mom’s eyes.
I guess murder would be worse, but I think she believes the first step toward a violent life is being a food-waster.
Mom comes back from work two hours later to take us to rehearsal. She notices the apricots are all gone, but she believes Randy ate four and I had four. I stay quiet.
As soon as I get to the theater I pretty much forget about asking for a ride home and also about Randy. Olive is already at the theater, and she’s spending a lot of time looking around.
I think she’s trying to find Gianni.
But he’s not in the theater. Or at least he’s not onstage.
Time goes by fast when Shawn Barr is in charge, because he keeps us moving and also because he’s always giving us pointers on how to fix stuff.
I think everyone listens with full ears when he’s directing. We’re like the ducks after Mrs. Chang claps. We know who’s the boss.
Today is the day Mrs. Chang is supposed to come in and try on a harness. I’m very excited for this.
Randy arranged a ride home on his own with a kid named Gene, so I don’t have to worry, which I wasn’t doing anyway. I hope Randy’s not getting the idea that I don’t care about him, because I do. But it’s just a fact that I’m not the kind of kid who can keep a lot of ideas in my head at once, such as his ride schedule.
It’s possible this means that one day I’ll be a crummy mother. One of the tricks of being a parent is remembering lots of things at once. At least that’s what I heard Mom say to Dad when he forgot to pick up Tim from the YMCA.
Olive and I are sitting on the stage dangling our legs over the edge. We’re the same height, but my legs are longer.
Maybe Olive is thinking about being not tall, because she says, “Remember: Charlotte Brontë was only four feet nine inches.”
I say, “I won’t forget.”
However, I don’t add, Who’s Charlotte Brontë?
There are a lot of girls in school named Charlotte, but I can’t think of anyone with the last name Brontë. That doesn’t stop me from saying in a very serious way, “Charlotte Brontë never let people push her around.”
Olive, fortunately, has moved on from this Brontë person.
She says, “Queen Victoria wasn’t even five feet.”
I nod. I’ve heard of Queen Victoria, but I don’t know a thing about her.
&nb
sp; Olive then says in a kind of big, British accent, “We are not amused.”
I say, “No, we are not amused!”
Olive giggles.
I then say again, “We are not amused!” and I try to imitate her funny voice. I’m sort of surprised by how much I sound like Olive.
She then says, “You are an excellent mimic. It’s a real skill. You need to work on that.”
I guess I haven’t thought of this as an accomplishment. I can get a laugh out of Grandma Mittens by making my voice sound like my brothers’. This is great news that Olive thinks it’s something good, because so far I haven’t found my true talent.
I’m swinging my legs when the door opens at the back of the theater and Mrs. Chang comes in. She’s wearing the monkey costume she made, but now she also has on a monkey face. It’s so real that at first I’m not even sure it’s her. She has applied some kind of mask, and the eyes I see are hers but the nose and mouth and the shape of everything else is pure winged monkey.
I stare at her.
So does Olive.
Then I hear, “Hello, Julia. Hi, Olive.”
What’s kind of upsetting is that as she gets closer, she looks even more real.
I shout, “Mrs. Chang! You’re scaring me.”
She calls back, “That’s the idea.”
I ask, “How did you get the monkey face?”
“My friend Stan. It’s foam and latex. He used to work down in California at Knott’s Berry Farm during their Halloween events.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I nod like I do and I say, “Stan is the man.”
She adds, “He’ll do better when he has new materials. This was just what he had lying around in his garage.”
I find myself wondering where Stan lives and what the inside of his garage looks like. I’m also thinking about whether Stan could put this kind of makeup on my face, because I’m a monkey too.
This is so exciting!
Mrs. Chang takes a seat on a folding chair near me, and then Gianni appears. He’s carrying flying harnesses. Behind him is one of the stagehands. I think his name is Peanut. He has some kind of mattress rolled up, and he’s got it balanced like a log on his shoulder. He sets it down on the stage floor and makes it go flat. It looks like a nice place to take a nap.
Olive immediately gets to her feet.
I do what she does because she’s my mentor.
She says, “Hey, Gianni.” She smiles and looks very perky.
I say “Hey, Gianni” in a voice that sounds a lot like Olive’s.
This makes Gianni laugh and Mrs. Chang smile. Olive turns and looks at me, and not in a nice way. She whispers, “Don’t mimic me.”
One second I have a great skill and the next it’s not a good thing.
I really don’t want to ever make Olive mad. I move toward Mrs. Chang and say in my own voice, “Are you ready to try some wire work?”
This gets everyone thinking about the reason we are here and not about my skill at repeating stuff.
I can see that Olive has forgiven me. Or else she’s just happy because Gianni is now standing next to her.
Gianni moves closer to Mrs. Chang and says, “Your facial makeup is first-rate.”
Mrs. Chang nods. “Stan did it. He’s a professional.”
“Clearly,” Gianni says.
And then Shawn Barr, taking his small steps, appears in the wings. He calls out, “I see we have a seasoned performer on our hands today.”
He means Mrs. Chang.
He doesn’t know if she can act, but I guess her costume and makeup tell him something. He heads to her. He is moving like a penguin.
“I sustained an on-set injury and I’m in recovery. I don’t usually walk this way. I’m Shawn Barr. Great to meet you.”
Mrs. Chang holds out her hand, which is covered in what looks like a gray glove that goes all the way up her arm. The arm has fake fur. Shawn Barr doesn’t shake it: He leans down and gives her gloved hand a light kiss.
This is really not the Shawn Barr I know.
She says, “Yan Chang. A pleasure to meet you.”
He says, “The pleasure is all mine.”
You can’t tell how old Mrs. Chang is when she’s in her winged monkey outfit. So maybe this is her way of dealing with the age question and discrimination.
I think Mrs. Chang and Shawn Barr are off to a good start.
The next thing to happen is that Gianni helps Mrs. Chang into one of the harnesses. The other two guys who do the wire work come in, and Mrs. Chang gets lifted off the ground right above what I know now is a “fall pad.”
I guess they aren’t taking any chances.
Grandma Mittens says that being competitive is good when you play Ping-Pong or ice hockey, but not so great in other parts of life. She has explained to me that adults who are really competitive are jerks. She thinks kids can also be too competitive (and be jerks).
It’s hard to separate wanting something for yourself, and wanting other people to have it. I watch Mrs. Chang and I hope she will do well. But as soon as she’s in the air I feel something in my stomach.
I’m wondering if this goes back to living in caves when there weren’t enough sharp rocks and you had to be competitive to survive. Then maybe once people moved from caves to cabins and then to condos, they still had this instinct.
We learn today that Mrs. Chang is good enough to be a winged monkey.
I wouldn’t say that she’s that much better than me or Olive.
I don’t want to be competitive with her, so I’m not going to judge. I will say that she doesn’t need to be taught how to land and hit her spot, and I’m still working on that.
Shawn Barr is very happy when Mrs. Chang agrees to make our winged monkey costumes and be in the show. The other monkeys coming from Cleveland already sent their measurements and she will take care of those outfits, too.
It’s not long before she and I are together on our way home. I thought Mrs. Chang would drive something special because everything else about her is different. But she just has a regular silver car with gray seats.
It’s a lot of fun being with someone dressed like a winged monkey, though. At stoplights people honk or wave. I feel as if I’m riding in a parade with the rodeo star or the girl in our town who made it all the way to the Olympics as a long-distance runner. I get some of the smiling that’s meant for the other person, and it feels great.
Once I’m home I feel bad about not sharing this experience with Randy, because he would have loved it. But he’s excited about his new friend Gene. I guess they didn’t really know they had anything in common until Gene’s mom drove Randy home. They had a lot of laughs in the car and even stopped at Bertie’s Farm to get strawberry milkshakes.
Everything is connected. I wasn’t trying to get Randy a new friend. I was being selfish, but I guess it worked out.
Mrs. Chang is now always going to bring me back from rehearsal, and Randy is always going to get rides home with Gene.
I don’t want to learn the lesson that thinking only about myself can be good, but today it was.
Mom comes home, and she feels great about the day because she didn’t have to do the extra driving and she got all her work done. Dad has a surprise and it’s that he picked up pizza from Nancy and Dan’s Italian Kitchen. We don’t have it very often because we try to be healthy eaters, which is too bad.
Pizza would be my first choice for any meal if I were the one in charge.
Ramon used to eat the crusts, so it was his first choice too.
I’m so tired from everything that happened today that I get into bed early. I don’t even brush my teeth, which is bad hygiene.
Even though so many good things are going on, like Mrs. Chang being in the show and Randy liking his new friend Gene and Dad picking up meatball and pepperoni
pizza, I miss Ramon when I get under the covers. He was such a good sleeper. After seven o’clock he was always out like a light.
I put Ramon’s collar and also the wooden Ramon carving next to me on the blanket.
My dad once said that giving away something you don’t want isn’t generous. Giving away something you do want is. So if you aren’t going to eat your tuna fish sandwich at lunch, and you turn to a kid and say, “Hey, do you want this?” then you aren’t a generous person.
You might even just be a person who can’t stand the smell of tuna fish.
But if you hand over your chocolate bar because you know your friend would love it, then you really gave up something.
Dad said that one of the most valuable things you can give someone is your time. He’s very busy, so maybe that’s why he said this. But I asked Olive, and she told me this is even truer as you get older—I guess because you’re running out of time, so it all matters more.
It seems like everyone likes money, so giving away cash is always generous, unless you have so much, you don’t know when it’s missing. Then it might be showing off.
I’m thinking right now that I would be a generous person if I ever gave away the wooden carving of Ramon. Or his collar.
I close my eyes. As I drift off I feel wooden Ramon at my side, but it somehow turns into my real dog and he’s wearing a flying harness.
We both rise, held by metal strings that pull us out the window. We look up and see that the wires are looped over the stars as we lift higher into the dark blue night. Soon we glide across the sky above the whole town.
We look down at the streets below, and see the treetops and the lights from signs and windows.
We pass by the mid-century modern Bay Motel, and the emerald-green pool is glowing.
We are soaring, moving with no effort on invisible wings.
This is what loving someone or something feels like.
The next thing I know, I open my eyes and the morning light is coming through the window. It’s warm on my pillow.
The wooden carving of Ramon and his collar are back in the right place on my bedside table.
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