Christmas Treasure (6 page)

“Baaaarrrrkkkk!”
Tootie’s squawk broke the silence. “Bravo!” he screeched. “Encore! Merry Christmas!”

“Oh, Tootie,” Ms. Bennefield cried. “You’re absolutely right! That was wonderful!” She got up from the piano and gave Stevie a big hug. “I am so proud of you!”

Stevie hugged her back. “I did sound pretty good, didn’t I?”

“You sounded the best you ever have,” Ms. Bennefield said. “If you sing like that Monday, I’m sure you’ll get the part!”

“Wow, Ms. Bennefield, thanks.”

It was time to go. Stevie gathered up her music and stuffed it into her backpack. “Thanks for everything. I wouldn’t be half this good if it wasn’t for you.”

“You did it yourself, Stevie,” Ms. Bennefield said, helping Stevie on with her coat. “You were determined to do it, and you practiced hard and concentrated.”

“Do you really think I’ll do okay on Monday?” Stevie asked as she opened Ms. Bennefield’s front door.

“I think you’ll do fine. Just breathe with your diaphragm, and if you get nervous before the audition, remember to do your lip rolls.”

“Is that where you blow bubbles underwater, only there’s no water?” Stevie stepped out into the frosty air.

“Right,” said Ms. Bennefield. “That will help keep your mouth and jaw relaxed.” She watched as Stevie shouldered her backpack and got on her bicycle. “Bye, Stevie,” she called. “Good luck on Monday. Let me know what happens.”

“I will, Ms. Bennefield,” Stevie called as she pedaled off. “Thanks for all your help.”

“H
I
, C
AROLE
!” L
ISA
called as her friend got off the bus. Lisa had phoned Carole earlier that day and they had agreed to meet at the bus stop and walk to Stevie’s house together. It was Sunday afternoon, and both girls were eager to hear Stevie’s new, improved singing voice.

“Hi, Lisa.” Carole pulled her red knitted cap lower over her ears. “Are you ready for the big performance?”

“I can hardly wait!” Lisa replied. “I just hope Stevie really sounds as good as she thinks she does.”

“Me too,” agreed Carole with a slight wince. “Otherwise it could be a real disaster.” Carole and Lisa had heard Stevie sing many times. Though she always sang with great gusto, her crooning had definitely been off-key.

“Well, maybe all these voice lessons have turned her into a real virtuoso,” said Lisa hopefully.

“I think it would take more than voice lessons to turn Stevie into a virtuoso,” Carole said as the girls walked toward Stevie’s house. “I think it would take more like a miracle.”

They walked down the street, looking at all the Christmas decorations people had put on their houses. One house had a huge gold wreath on the front door, while another was covered in tiny white lights that twinkled constantly.

“Boy, it’s pretty this time of year,” said Lisa.

“I know.” Carole smiled at the bright decorations. “If only it would snow.”

Lisa buttoned the top button of her coat against the chilly air. “Hey, how did your toy drive work go yesterday?”

“Great,” said Carole. “Dad and I worked till eight o’clock sorting through all the baby toys and toddler toys. There’s still a ton more to do, though.”

“Will you get it done in time for Christmas?” Lisa asked.

“I’m sure we will. Other Marines are volunteering their time at night.” Carole looked at Lisa. “Do you think you’ll be able to help us distribute the toys when it gets closer to Christmas?”

“Unless I’m dead from helping my mother get ready for our company,” said Lisa with a sigh. “We worked all afternoon and into the night. I’ve never baked so much shortbread before in my life. We’ve got enough to feed an
army, and now my mother’s baking some kind of dumpling stuff!” Lisa didn’t mention the awful haggis dish they were supposed to eat—she was afraid Carole might throw up right there on the side of the road.

“Maybe Scottish people have big appetites,” Carole said.

“I hope they do,” replied Lisa. “Otherwise we’ll be eating this stuff for the next three years!”

They turned down Stevie’s driveway. The Lakes’ house was decorated for the holidays as well, with tiny lights glittering on the bushes next to the porch and a big green wreath with a red bow on the front door.

“Looks like the Lakes are ready for Christmas,” Carole said as she rang the doorbell and sniffed the fragrant pine wreath.

“I think the Lakes are ready for everything.” Lisa giggled. “At least I know Stevie is.”

After a moment the big front door swung open. Chad, Stevie’s older brother, stood there, dressed in a warm-up suit, the earphones of a portable CD player plugged into his ears. He smiled when he saw Lisa and Carole and unplugged himself from the music.

“Hi,” he said. “Come on in.”

“Hi, Chad.” Lisa and Carole stepped into the warm living room, where a fire crackled in the fireplace. “Is Stevie here?”

“She’s upstairs practicing her singing.” Chad rolled his eyes. “Which is why I’m down here plugged into
Shimmery Emery. Everybody else has gone shopping. Nobody can stand the noise.”

Carole and Lisa gave each other a worried glance. They knew how important singing this solo had become to Stevie. “Is it really that bad?” Carole asked Chad softly.

Chad made a terrible face. “Go upstairs and listen for yourself.”

He plugged back into the CD and went into the den while Carole and Lisa took off their coats and tiptoed upstairs. They didn’t hear any shrieking or off-key singing, so they went to Stevie’s room and knocked on her door.

The door flew open. Stevie stood there, grinning. “Hi!” she said. “I was just trying on my new dress while I was waiting for you guys to show up. Come on in and tell me what you think.”

Carole and Lisa stepped in and closed the door behind them. Stevie stood in the middle of the room and modeled the dress by twirling in a tight circle, holding the skirt out. “Well,” she laughed. “Am I gorgeous or what?”

Lisa and Carole blinked at Stevie. Her dress was a beautiful emerald green velvet that made her hazel eyes sparkle. Her shoulder-length hair looked blonder against the dark green of the dress, and her complexion had a wonderful rosy glow.

“Stevie!” Lisa gasped. “You look beautiful!”

“You certainly do,” agreed Carole, her eyes wide.

“Well, it’s not as comfortable as jeans and a sweatshirt,
but for a dress, it’s not too bad.” Stevie smiled. “I think Phil will really be impressed when the curtains open and there I am, singing a solo in this.”

“Stevie, have you gotten the part for sure yet?” Carole asked gently.

“No, but I know I will. Mr. Vance really likes me. And after all my voice lessons I sound great. And the only other person trying out for the solo is Veronica, and I’ve told you how bad she sounds.” Stevie grinned. “Sit down and I’ll sing my song for you.”

Lisa and Carole plopped onto Stevie’s bed while Stevie rummaged in her backpack for her music.

“This is what I’ve decided to sing tomorrow,” she said, pulling out a sheet of music. “Ms. Bennefield thinks it’s a good choice.”

Lisa and Carole each secretly crossed their fingers and waited for Stevie to begin. She stood before them, cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and started to sing.

“ ‘What child is this, who laid to rest in Mary’s lap is sleeping?’ ” Stevie crooned.

Lisa and Carole glanced at each other. This was amazing! Stevie actually didn’t sound too bad!

“ ‘Whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch are keeping?’ ” Stevie sang on. Lisa and Carole could hardly believe their ears. What was Chad talking about? This was actually very good. Stevie sounded a thousand percent better!

“ ‘This, this—’ ”

Just as Stevie’s voice began to climb higher, a thunderous
“Stevie!”
roared up from downstairs.

Stevie stopped singing and opened the door. “What do you want, Chad?” she shrieked down the staircase. “I was singing!”

“You’ve got a phone call!” Chad bellowed. “I’ve been yelling at you for five minutes!”

“Okay, okay,” called Stevie, closing the door. “Thanks.” She dropped down on her hands and knees and fished her phone out from under her bed. “Hang on,” she said to Carole and Lisa. “I’ll finish my song in a minute.”

She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Stevie?” It was a familiar voice but one she didn’t often hear on the phone. She tried to place it, but then the voice placed itself. “It’s Veronica.”

“DiAngelo?” Stevie asked.

“Of course,” Veronica said. “Do you know another Veronica?”

It occurred to Stevie to say it was a good thing she didn’t, but that wouldn’t exactly be in the spirit of Christmas. Instead, she said, “No, but I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, that’s all.”

“Well, did you hear from Mr. Vance?”

“No, what about? Why would he call me?”

“Well, then how about Miss Fenton?”

The only times Stevie ever heard from Miss Fenton were when she was in trouble. She couldn’t for the life of
her think of anything she’d done recently that Miss Fenton would need to talk to her about, except maybe for the fact that she’d used all the paper towels in the girls’ room to prop up the leg on the broken couch in the library, but she was sure nobody had seen her do it, and besides, using paper towels was better than using a book, right?

“Miss Fenton? No. I haven’t heard anything.”

“Well, the way I heard it, she’s steaming mad,” Veronica said.

Now Stevie was curious. Miss Fenton might be
irritated
by a pile of paper towels, but not steaming mad. This was something else altogether.

“It has to do with Cross Academy, I guess.” Cross Academy was a nearby private school and Fenton Hall’s archrival. They played each other in every sport, and every time Fenton played Cross, it was a big deal. All week Fenton’s hallways had been plastered with posters about how Fenton Hall should
CROSS OUT CROSS
in the basketball game to be played at Cross next week.

“Huh?” Stevie asked. This wasn’t making any sense at all, and she couldn’t imagine why Veronica was calling her.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t want to say anything,” said Veronica.

“About what?” Stevie demanded.

“The basketballs, of course.”

If Stevie had been confused before, she was dumbfounded now.

“Veronica, I really have no idea what you’re talking about.” She rolled her eyes to let Lisa and Carole know that, one way or another, Veronica was being Veronica.

“Of course,” Veronica said in her most condescending tone.

Stevie was inches from simply slamming down the phone, but her curiosity was piqued. “Tell me about the basketballs,” she said.

“Well, not that you would know anything about this, Stevie, but the way I hear it, somebody—and nobody knows exactly who, but it must be one of those people who are always getting into trouble—
somebody
got into the athletic supply closet at Cross Academy and punctured every single one of their basketballs!”

“Who would do something like that?” Stevie blurted out.

“Exactly!” said Veronica.

Then it began to sink in. Veronica thought Stevie had done it. No way. Stevie was more than capable of pranks. She’d be the first to admit it, and maybe even say it proudly. She was even capable of slightly mean pranks—especially when it came to her brothers—but she was in no way capable of such a totally mean and destructive prank.

But if Veronica thought she did it, who else might? Miss Fenton? Stevie felt a terrible knot in her stomach.

“Anyway,” said Veronica, “I guess Miss Fenton has
announced that she’s going to be in the auditorium between four and five tomorrow, and the person who did it is supposed to come forward and confess, which might, just
might
save them from being drawn and quartered by Miss Fenton and Mr. Lord, the headmaster at Cross.”

“So, what about our auditions?” Stevie asked.

“Well, they can’t be in the auditorium at
four
o’clock, can they?” Veronica answered.

“No, I guess not.”

“Just thought you’d want to know,” said Veronica.

“Uh, thanks,” said Stevie. And she hung up.

“What was that about?” Carole asked.

“It was Veronica gloating,” said Stevie, and she explained to Lisa and Carole about the basketballs. “She thinks I’m going to be in big trouble, but I didn’t have anything to do with that. I mean, I hope Fenton beats Cross and all, but I certainly don’t care enough to get into trouble over it.”

“You’d never do anything like that,” Lisa said.

“Well, you know that and I know that, but apparently Veronica doesn’t, and I can’t be absolutely certain that Miss Fenton doesn’t, either.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Well, first of all, I’m not going to utter the word
basketball
tomorrow. I don’t want anybody at that school connecting me with that mean and crude prank. And the next thing I’m definitely going to do is to stay far, far
away from the auditorium tomorrow afternoon between four and five. The auditions have been changed to five o’clock.”

“Is that what Veronica said?” Lisa asked.

“Well, they can’t be before because there are some classes until four, and they can’t be anyplace but the auditorium, so they have to be at five o’clock. I’ll wait in the library. It’s the last place Miss Fenton would think to look for me. Shall I finish my song now?”