School of Charm Page 4

  I kept eyeing her, hoping she’d glance my way, but I finally gazed off into the woods. “So we’re all supposed to learn the same lessons here?”

  Karen shrugged. “I guess. I figure the mirror has something to do with beauty. That’s what I’m hoping, since I’m entering the Junior Miss Dogwood pageant.”

  My heart tumbled. “So this is a school to train for beauty pageants?”

  “What else would it be?” Dana asked.

  “I don’t know.” They’d probably laugh if I said magic. My hands shook as I took a few small plants from the tray. “How long have you two been here?” The sun was hot on my head.

  Dana squinted. “I came last week, and Karen showed up three days ago.”

  “Have you been working in the garden the whole time?” I scooped out a little hole and dropped my plant in. “Is that regular charm school training?”

  “Miss Vernie says we’ll learn exactly what we need if we do what she asks every day,” Karen said. “She’s a little strange, but she’s nice.”

  Dana tipped up her chin. “My daddy doesn’t have money for the charm school in Winston-Salem, plus it’s too far away. This will do.”

  Karen stopped working and leaned back. “I’m just happy I’m not at home, listening to my stepfather tell me how fat I am.” She closed her eyes and kicked off her flip-flops. She wiggled her painted toes that looked like squirming little pigs. “I hadn’t planned to be in the Miss Dogwood Pageant until Dana told me about the Junior Miss competition. I’ll show him who’s an ugly lump.”

  “He called you that?” Dana asked.

  “No, but I know that’s what he thinks,” Karen said. “Just because I’m not into sports like his two sons. Yuck. Sports.” She flicked a piece of dirt off her arm. “It’s not my fault I watch a lot of TV. I haven’t found my own thing yet. That’s what my mom tells him.”

  I wanted to tell her she wasn’t an ugly lump. Really. But Daddy always said not to lie. “Well, I’m not competing,” I said.

  Dana stopped digging. “Why’d you join this school then?” Her big lips turned down in a frown.

  I traced my finger in the dirt. I didn’t know how to answer her question. So I used a trick I learned on a detective show: ask a question when you don’t want to answer one. “What about you? You’re here for beauty pageant training?”

  She narrowed her eyes until fire seeped out like a slice of light under a closed door. “Yes. I’m fifteen now, old enough to enter the Miss Dogwood Festival in August.”

  “But, you’re … I mean … I’ve never seen any black girls in pageants with my sister Charlene. Hardly ever in Miss America. Why do you want to enter this one? Don’t you have your own pageants?” I thought I should look out for her, like Charlene had done for me. I wasn’t like other girls who joined pageants like this, and neither was Dana.

  Dana set her shovel down. “It’s none of your beeswax why I entered. And why wouldn’t I be able to win?” She looked me over, her gaze resting on my cheek. “You think you could?”

  I wanted to shrivel up like one of Grandma’s flowers. “My sister’s entering. But I’m not.” I was getting off to a bad start with her, too, just like Grandma.

  “You really think you belong here, then?” Her big eyes waited for an answer.

  And I waited for an answer too. Or a sign from Daddy, ’cause it sure didn’t feel like I fit in here any better than I did at Grandma’s.

  chapter five

  DANA STOOD UP AND BRUSHED HER HANDS OFF. “I’M heading up for lunch.” She walked along the path by herself before we could catch up. Karen trotted after her, and I lagged behind.

  I wished I could have a few minutes alone with Dana. Daddy said sometimes the people who acted like they really didn’t want a friend needed one most of all. That’s how it had been with Billy. When he moved in down the street and ended up in the same class as me, he didn’t like me one bit, and that was fine with me. But Daddy thought I should invite him over to do some exploring, on account of how Billy’s father wasn’t around. And Daddy had been right. Billy and I became friends the first time we tromped through the woods.

  I walked along back to Miss Vernie’s house, touching each charm on my bracelet: a mirror, a flower, ballet slippers, and a heart. I could just take the bracelet off and give it back to Miss Vernie. I probably should because I didn’t have anything to learn here, did I? Miss Vernie had a big pitcher of lemonade set out on her picnic table, along with a plate of tiny sandwiches, deviled eggs, sliced oranges, and powdered cookies laid out on a white lace tablecloth. A vase filled with daisies and roses sat in the middle. I sat down because it seemed rude to leave her school right then after she’d made such a nice lunch for us. Miss Vernie took a seat with us at the table, smoothing a napkin across her lap. “So how are things today?”

  Dana shrugged. “We haven’t lost any charms yet, but we planted all your seedlings.”

  “Are we going to learn how to hold our forks and cups at the table?” I asked with a frown. I pushed an egg around my plate, waiting for the bad news. Working out in the garden at charm school was just too good to be true.

  Miss Vernie smiled. “Table manners? If that’s what you’d like. Anyone know any tips?”

  I looked at Dana, who was looking at Karen, who was looking at me.

  “My stepfather always tells me to keep my elbows off the table. And to keep my fork out of the serving bowl,” Karen offered.

  “I’ve seen my grandmama pat her lips with a napkin real gentle and set it back on her lap,” Dana said.

  “Very good. All lovely ideas.” Miss Vernie picked up her glass and stuck her pinkie out. “And I’ve seen people in the movies do this at fancy parties.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?” I asked. “That’s not one of our lessons?”

  “Not unless you want it to be,” Miss Vernie said.

  Dana squeezed a sandwich between her long, dark, elegant fingers. “No, thanks. That sounds like a boring lesson to me.”

  “What do you want us to do the rest of the day?” Karen put her elbows back on the table. She stacked two sandwiches on top of each other and took a big bite.

  “I think today is for the birds,” Miss Vernie said, floating her hand through the air.

  Dana pushed back from the table. “I’ll get the buckets and scrub brush.”

  “No, no. You sit. I’ll fetch the things.” Miss Vernie popped a cookie into her mouth and disappeared behind the shed.

  I turned to Dana. “What does she mean, ‘today is for the birds’?”

  “That means we get to scrub the birdbaths and fill the feeders. Actually, you will, since I did it last week. I’ll supervise.”

  “So you don’t have to work on posture or something like that for your pageant?” I asked.

  “We’re supposed to do what Miss Vernie tells us,” Dana said, like I was a first-grader.

  I shrugged. “I like birds.”

  “She’s got twelve birdbaths. Have you ever seen what those nasty starlings leave behind?” Dana asked, blinking her huge amber eyes.

  Miss Vernie returned with six small empty buckets and a burlap sack. “Here, girls. Now make sure you hold a bucket in each hand when you’re carrying the water. Keep yourself balanced and stand up straight.” She crossed her arms and smiled at us, creases forming around her bright blue eyes and her cheeks glowing pink from the heat. “That’s all for today.” She scurried off down one of her paths, and we went to fill the buckets up with the hose.

  Even though starling poop dries up like concrete, I didn’t mind cleaning out those birdbaths. Dana rinsed off the dirt once I’d finished cleaning, and Karen refilled each bath, huffing and puffing as she picked up the buckets. I poured a few handfuls of seed into each feeder while the two of them fetched more water.

  I kicked a pinecone off the path and ran my hands over the rough bark of a big tree. I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh, warm smell of the woods and the earth. The scent of pine filled my nose. I s
tretched my arms to the sky and pretended for a moment that I was home.

  The girls returned with the water and I went back to work. Karen and Dana stood silently, slapping away mosquitoes and examining their nails while I scraped the birdbaths.

  “You coming tomorrow, Chip?” Dana said my name like it was a piece of food caught between her teeth. She pressed her big lips together.

  Yes! The answer was a popcorn kernel that popped in my brain, surprising me. But this had been a lot more fun than sitting inside looking at Grandma’s dolls. “I guess.” I forced myself to say the words slowly and quietly.

  Karen held her charm bracelet up so it caught the sun. “I ain’t got nothing else to do this summer. If I stay home, my mom will probably make me read. I’ll be here.” Her brown hair was flat against her head, and beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks from our hard work.

  When we finished, Dana and Karen wheeled their bikes down the long, long driveway then took off riding, standing up on their pedals, just like I used to on my old bike. I stepped out of the cool refuge of the woods, onto the hot pavement, and started back toward Grandma’s. I couldn’t hear Miss Vernie’s wind chimes and their metallic whispers anymore. Seems like the minute I walked off her property, they disappeared.

  And so did the good feeling that had snuck into my heart for a few hours.

  Then my stomach flipped. I’d forgotten about my turtle. He’d been in the closet all day! Unless Grandma found him. If she did, he was probably gone. Or stuffed, sitting on a shelf in the dead animal room. Or boiling in a great big pot for soup. I started jogging. I had to talk to Daddy about this. How was I going to take care of a baby turtle that had come way too early?

  Then I remembered. Daddy was gone. I’d have to talk to Mama about my turtle instead. Only, I’d never talked to Mama about any of my problems before. Just Daddy. I started walking slower and slower thinking about the truth. Daddy was gone. Really, really gone. He was in heaven, and I was stuck in North Carolina. And he wasn’t doing anything to show me he’d been listening.

  chapter six

  IT FELT LIKE A COLD, HEAVY ROCK WAS SITTING IN MY chest as I walked up Grandma’s driveway all alone. The U-Haul trailer was gone, so I guess there was no chance Mama would change her mind and take us back home. I stepped inside and let the screen door slam behind me. No one noticed. Everyone was watching Charlene look at herself in a full-length mirror pulled out into the living room, right in the middle of all those fancy, lit-up dolls, like they were watching too. Charlene frowned at the pale yellow material she held up to her chin. She grabbed a handful of it and gritted her teeth. “Mama, this color is not bright enough. It washes me out!”

  Mama had a few pins tucked into the corner of her mouth. “Darlin’, this is what you picked out. You loved it at the store. And you better watch it. You keep making that nasty face and it will freeze just like that for good. Happened to my friend Dolores Groves. You should have seen her senior class picture. ’Course no one asked her to prom. I don’t think she ever got married, either.”

  Charlene stomped her foot. “It won’t matter if it freezes like that. This is so ugly no one will be looking at my face! There must have been different lighting at the store. I never would have picked out something so horrid.”

  I dashed up the stairs and ran to my room. I threw open the closet door and let out my breath. The bowl was still there and so was Earl. I picked him up and set him in my hand. He looked at me and closed his eyes. Then I put him back, slid the bowl in the closet, and went downstairs. He needed food.

  Grandma was in the kitchen and Charlene was still whining. “I can’t wear this. I just can’t.” Her blue eyes popped open wide, ready to leap out of her head.

  Mama stepped back from Charlene and tapped her finger on her chin. “If you got yourself a nice tan, this dress would just glow on you. Yes, I’m sure it would.”

  Charlene ran her fingers over her hair and across her collarbone. Her heaving chest started slowing down. “You think?”

  “Yes, I do. You’re a southern girl now. You have to have a tan. It’s practically a law. Now, here’s how to do it fast. Put a few drops of iodine in some baby oil. Slather that on real good, then cover one of your record albums in tinfoil and hold it in front of you. You’ll bounce those sun rays right onto yourself and be tan in no time.”

  Mama was so smart about that kind of stuff. “Hi there, Chip,” Mama said, glancing at me.

  I opened my mouth, but Mama turned back to the pins she was poking through the silky gold material.

  “Mama?” I sat down on the couch. The plastic cover let out a loud squeak like it couldn’t believe I had the nerve to sit on it. “I have a question. A problem really.” I hoped she’d know what to do about my turtle. Mama didn’t have a lot of experience with animals like Daddy did.

  “Ouch!” Mama shook her hand and sucked on the finger she’d stuck with a pin. “Oh, Chip. Can it wait?”

  Grandma walked into the room. “Off my couch with those dirty clothes, Brenda.” She swept one hand through the air like she was shooing me away. “Now, what’s this problem? Perhaps I can help.”

  Hopping off the couch, I looked into the hall at the eat-you-alive bear at the bottom of the stairs. Grandma didn’t know anything about keeping animals alive. She only knew about killing them. “Um, nothing,” I said, backing away from her. “Nothing important. I’ll be out back. Call me when supper’s ready.”

  I felt smaller inside Grandma’s house than I did out on the hot road walking back from Miss Vernie’s. Out there I felt like a big beautiful feather that could float anywhere. Inside with Grandma, I felt like dirty old gum stuck to the road.

  “Make sure you change before dinner. You’ll find a few new dresses hanging in your closet.” Grandma shook her head, her eyes sweeping across me from toes to nose. “Lordy, where have you been?”

  The tips of my ears felt hot and I stepped back. “Exploring.”

  This made Mama smile. “Would you take Ruthie outside with you? She’s been clinging to my legs all day.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Ruthie twirled in place, her ruffled dress flying. She held out her hand, and I grabbed it a little tighter than I meant to as I tugged her along to the kitchen. I rooted around the refrigerator and found spinach and a carrot for Earl.

  “Oh, no. You’ll spoil your supper.” Grandma held out her hand. “No snacks before dinner.” Her painted-on eyebrows were almost touching, like two mean caterpillars ready to fight.

  Grandma was crazy if she thought I’d pick carrots and spinach for a snack. I handed back the food and stalked to my room. I sat in front of Earl’s bowl.

  Ruthie plopped down next to me. “Can I hold him?”

  I took a few deep breaths to slow my heart. “No. Earl’s very fragile. And he’s a secret. Don’t tell Grandma he’s here.” Earl was asleep on the rock in the middle of the bowl. My eyes stung just looking at him. He seemed sad. He wasn’t eating and I had to keep him hidden. It was going to be a whole lot harder taking care of this little guy than I’d figured. I wasn’t so sure now I could do it without Daddy’s help.

  “You know, Chip, you should … ,” he’d say. But I couldn’t figure out what words he would have used next. “I’ll have to set this one on the burner until the solution finds me,” I remembered him saying.

  That made me feel better. Maybe some great turtle-raising solution would just drop into my head.

  “You’re s’posed to play with me outside. Mama said.” Ruthie stuck out her lower lip.

  I groaned. “Bring a book to look at.”

  She grabbed a book of fairy tales, and we went to Grandma’s big backyard. Ruthie settled under a tree and fluffed out her dress, folding her legs so the tips of her black shoes poked out. She started talking to herself like she was reading, but she knew most of the stories by heart because Mama had read them to her so many times.

  I found a patch of grass dotted with shade from the trees. They looked like they�
�d been stretching up to the sky for a long time. I closed my eyes and played the Listen Game Daddy and I had loved so much. I tried to identify all the sounds I heard without looking: two birds twittering back and forth; Charlene whining inside; a car whizzing down the road.

  “Did you hear that, Daddy?” I whispered. “I wonder where they’re going.”

  Then Ruthie started sniffling and whimpering. That girl cried all the time over nothing. Usually I just tried to make her laugh and forget about whatever was making her sad. That hadn’t been working so well lately.

  “What’s wrong, Ruthie?” I asked.

  “You’re talking about Daddy. Don’t do that. We’re not supposed to.” Ruthie rubbed her hand under her nose.

  “Ruthie, you can talk to him. I do.”

  She put her hands over her ears and started crying harder. Maybe Charlene was right and talking about Daddy was a bad idea. I shut my mouth and did a few somersaults toward Ruthie, and thank goodness she started giggling. “Me too, me too!” she said, clapping.

  I shook my head. “You’ll get that dress dirty for sure.”

  But it was too late. She stood up and put her head on the ground and tumbled to the side. Her white dress was stained with a big streak of green. Good thing Mama had practice getting out my stains.

  Ruthie lined herself up and tumbled to the side again. “Help me!”

  “Here,” I said, squaring her shoulders. “Put your head between your feet and look up behind you at the sky. Shake your bottom to get it lined up just right, and then fall forward.”

  Ruthie stuck her ruffled behind in the air, waggled it a few times, and toppled over in a perfect somersault. She stood up and clapped, and tried it again and again.

  “Supper, girls!” Grandma hollered out the window.

  Her voice stopped me with a start. Ruthie was filthy. She must have known we were in for it too, because she brushed at the stains on her dress. We washed up in the bathroom and walked slowly into the dining room.

  Grandma’s lips tightened and turned white. “Brenda! I told you not to get any dirtier. And I told you to get changed into a new dress. And, lordy, look at Ruthie.” She shook her head and clucked her tongue.