Crusader (15 page)

I'm not sure the girls even realized he had been there. Nina was busy picking up her beauty supplies, and Kristin never pays any attention to my dad. So I acted like nothing had happened. I put my hand up to my face and said, "You guys, this feels weird. It feels like Halloween."

Nina snapped, "Don't touch that. Don't even think about it. And don't touch your hair, either."

I looked back in the mirror, at that strange yet familiar face. I asked Nina, "So ... how do I change myself back?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"After the show is over, I'll want to get back to normal."

"You will?"

"Yeah. How do I get this stuff off?"

"You don't. Once you start using makeup, you never stop.
Not until you're dead. It's part of your daily routine, like breathing."

But Kristin reached into Nina's bag, pulled out a jar, and handed it to me. "Here. You use this cold cream. It'll take it right off."

Nina added, "Yeah. Just be sure to use lots of toilet paper." She picked up her garment bag and said to Kristin, "Let's see how these dresses look with our makeup and hair." She turned to me. "Do you have your own room, Roberta?"

"Yeah. Down the hall."

Nina took her garment bag down the hall, into my room. Kristin held up the powder, lipstick, eye shadow, and so on, and said to me, "In case you ever want to look like this again, I'm gonna leave all this stuff in your bathroom." She then took out two tortoiseshell clips and tried them in different places on my hair.

Nina came back quickly. She was four inches taller, in super-spiked high heels. She looked fabulous. Kristin and I told her so at the same time.

Nina smirked, but she was obviously pleased. "Yeah, yeah, what do you two skanks know about it?" She tossed Kristin's garment bag to her. "Come on, we're running out of time."

Kristin went down to my room next.

Nina leaned against the sink, shifting around in her heels. We had absolutely nothing to say to each other. That was okay with me, but she had to say something. "So how long have you been living in this place?"

"Seven years. Ever since my mom died."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. She had a heart attack."

Nina nodded understandingly, but I'm not sure she believed me. She changed the subject. "So I hope you have enough
quotes and stuff for your newsletter article, because this is gonna be it."

"I'm sure I do."

Kristin returned in her dress and stood next to Nina. She was wearing two-inch heels, so Nina had gained a net total of two inches. Side by side, they did look spectacular, both in their black strapless dresses. I'd say Nina looked fifty dollars more spectacular, but not seven hundred and fifty dollars more.

Nina said, "All right. Let's go." She looked at my clothes. "Get something on, Roberta. You're not wearing that."

I looked down at my clothes. I had on brown corduroy pants, a white T-shirt, and white sneakers. I said, "Why not? It's just until we get to the mall. Then Suzie's going to pick out an outfit for me."

"Still, people are going to see you between here and there."

Kristin grabbed her by the elbow. "Come on, I thought you were in a hurry."

"Girl, I'll never be in that big a hurry. My house could be on fire, and I wouldn't go outside in that."

I opened the kitchen door to leave. Nina and Kristin reached into their shopping bags and pulled out two pairs of sandals. They put their high-heeled shoes back into the bags.

Dad came in the kitchen. He wouldn't even look at me. He said, to no one in particular, "Looks like we're all leaving together."

The four of us walked out to the carport. Nina unlocked the Corvette and said to me, "Roberta, do you want to ride with your dad?"

Kristin answered pointedly, "No. She doesn't."

Nina told her, "Hey, you know, it's not like I have a real backseat here. That's all I'm saying."

I looked at Dad's beat-up Malibu. I told him, "I guess I'll ride with them."

He said, "Okay, honey. You're going to go to the mall office, right? I know Suzie has something to tell you about the big show today. All three of you." Dad looked Nina up and down. "The way you girls look, it makes me wish I were sixteen again."

I squeezed into the back. Kristin muttered disgustedly, "Yeah. I bet it does."

We rocketed up Everglades Boulevard and stopped at the light at Route 27. Just to our right, five yards from the intersection, a family of three—a father, a mother, and a little girl—was erecting a homemade shrine. The shrine consisted of a framed picture of a young man in a high school cap and gown, a bouquet of white flowers, and a small white cross. The father solemnly hammered the cross into the ground. The photo and the bouquet were attached to it.

Nina said to Kristin, "You know what that is, right? That's a Spanish thing. They're making a shrine to that dead boy, probably their son."

"Why do it there?"

"Because that's the spot where his soul departed this earth."

"What?"

"That's where he got killed. He probably got hit by a car. Or he got killed driving his own car."

I said, "That happens here a lot, Kristin."

She sounded genuinely surprised. "It does?"

"Oh yeah. I see them when I'm walking to work, families like this, and they're not only Spanish. All kinds of people do this. They come to the spot where the accident happened."

The light changed, and Nina roared across Route 27. She parked diagonally, across two spaces, right near the front of the mall. As I got out of the car, I saw Sam standing at his vandalized BMW. He was just across the row from us, hoisting a video camera. He walked in a slow circle around the car, videotaping the damage.

I stood watching him while Nina and Kristin gathered up their stuff. Sam must have sensed that I was standing there, because he lowered the camera and looked over at me. That gave me a funny feeling. He stared at me intensely, trying to figure out who I was. I almost yelled, "Trick or treat," but I contained myself.

Sam was still staring when Nina and Kristin started off toward the mall. Kristin yelled, "Come on, Roberta."

Nina jerked her head in Sam's direction. "That's the guy who runs Crescent, right?"

I said, "Yeah. That's Sam. Samir Samad."

"What is he? An Arab or something?"

"I think he's from California."

"No, no, no. Look at him. He looks like he ought to be wearing one of those sheets. You know what I mean?"

"No. Not really."

"Like he's an Arab. In the desert."

Kristin said, "You heard her, Nina. He's from California. That makes him an American."

"Hey, my mother's from Havana. She doesn't care if you call her a Cuban. She calls herself one." She turned to me. "Anyway, Roberta, whatever he is, he was checking you out."

"He was?"

"Are you blind, girl? He was checking you out big time. His tongue was practically hanging down to the ground."

"It was not."

Kristin looked in my eyes. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know."

Nina asked, "Well, do you like that type?"

"I don't know. I guess so."

"Because, you see, I do not. I like a hard-body type. I don't like guys who have that soft-body type. You know? Like that Pillsbury Doughboy look? Kristin, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"I have no idea."

"Pudgy? Is that a word?"

I said, "Yeah. That's a word."

"Well, he looks pudgy. Like he's got too high a percentage of body fat, you know, for his height."

I defended Sam. "He's not fat."

"Maybe not now, but he's gonna be. He's gonna be, like, some big fat Arab camel trader."

Kristin said, "I don't believe you, Nina. You are such a racist. You're like Hitler."

"What are you talking about? No way I'm a racist!" Nina paused and then added, "You're the one who lived in Germany. So don't go calling me Hitler."

"So don't go calling people fat Arabs."

"I'm not. I'm just stating a fact. Okay? A biological fact. I say the same thing about Carlos. It's his body type. In ten years Carlos is going to be a fat Cuban. He's got that body type, that pudgy body type. That's all I'm saying."

People entering and leaving the mall spotted us and stopped to stare. Especially the men. Even little boys and really old men. Nina and Kristin ignored them all. They leaned against the glass of SunBelt Savings, Slot #62, to switch their sandals for their high heels. Nina took out a handkerchief and dabbed her face. Then her jaw dropped. She pointed across the mallway to the office and gasped. "
Madre de Dios!
What is that?"

I looked over there, too. Suzie was holding up a poster-board and talking to someone who, even from this distance, could only be Betty the Goth.

Kristin asked her, "What? What are you talking about?"

"That thing over there, with the witch makeup. What is that supposed to be?"

I said, "That's Betty the Goth."

"The who?"

"Goth. You know, the goth kids?"

"No."

Kristin said, "You've seen her around. She works in the food court."

"Hey, if I ever saw her, I must have blocked it out."

The three of us started across the mallway. Kristin needled her. "At least she's not an Arab."

Nina shot her a look as she pushed open the glass door.

Suzie shouted out, "Ah! Here come the other models now. Look at you two! You look fabulous." Suzie's eyes fell on me. A puzzled expression came over her face. "Roberta? Uh, you look very different today." The three of us joined Betty and stood around Suzie's desk. "Uh, Roberta, didn't your dad tell you what the story is today?"

I said, "The story?"

Suzie looked at me, troubled. "Yes, we have a story for the modeling show today, if you want to call it that, or a theme, or whatever. It's all about Before and After." Suzie held up four white posters. Two had
BEFORE
printed on them, and two had
AFTER
. She told me, "You and Betty are going to be the Befores, and Nina and Kristin are going to be the Afters." She looked at all of us in turn. "Do you understand? It's '
Before
and
After
you go shopping at the West End Mall.'"

Suzie stepped quickly over to the window and started banging on the glass. Dad was across the mallway with Hawg and Ironman. Suzie gestured impatiently for him to come join us.

Kristin leaned toward me and whispered, "Did you know anything about this?"

Before I could answer, Dad burst through the door, grinning. Suzie spoke to him sharply. "Bob, didn't you explain the story to Roberta?"

"What story?"

Suzie's jaw clenched. "The story about the modeling show. The one that I spent all that time last night explaining to you."

Dad stopped grinning. "No, I was going to leave that up to you. Why? Is there a problem?"

Suzie's eyes rolled up to the ceiling, where they stayed for several seconds. Then they rolled back down to Dad. She said sarcastically, "Okay. Here is an explanation of the problem then, just for you: Roberta is supposed to be a Before." Dad narrowed his eyes at her. He clearly did not like being spoken to this way, especially not in front of us. Suzie, sensing this, backed off a little. She tried to smile at me. "Roberta, sweetie, you look great. But, the fact is, you look too great. You look so great that I now have one Before and three Afters in the modeling show. Do you understand?"

I understood perfectly. I said, "Yes."

"I need you to look the way you looked when I picked you for the show. The way you always look."

Kristin spoke up. "This stinks, Roberta. Don't do it."

Dad, to everyone's surprise, agreed. "Roberta, you don't have to do this if you don't want to." He looked hard at Suzie. "Does she, Suzie?"

But Suzie was ready for him. "No, of course not. If Roberta doesn't want to do it, then she doesn't have to do it. But I need to know that right away. Somebody has to play this part in the show, and it is fifty dollars for two hours' work. I need to go over to the food court and get somebody else, if that's what Roberta wants."

I answered her immediately. "No, that's not what I want. I want the fifty dollars."

Suzie contorted the left side of her face in a combination of a wink and a smile. "Of course you do." She came around the desk. She walked over and put her hand through Dad's arm. "It
really doesn't matter to me who plays what. You can switch roles if you want to."

Nina scoffed at that suggestion. She looked at Betty and addressed her for the first time. "I'll tell you what, I'll be the Before, and you be the After. Okay? I'll be
Before
you lose your mind, and you be
After.
"

Betty, calm as always, replied, "Fine with me."

Kristin was still shaking her head back and forth, like she was thinking of bailing out. I told her, "Kristin, it's okay. Give me that cold cream and I'll get this junk off my face."

Kristin sighed deeply. Then she took me by the elbow and led me into Suzie's bathroom. There was a big box of tissues in there. She told me, "Close your eyes. And don't open them for a long time. Not until I say so."

Kristin dipped tissues into the cold cream (which really was cold) and started to smear it around my eyes. She worked at removing all the makeup that she and Nina had just put on me. She kept muttering, "This stinks, Roberta. This really stinks. You don't want fifty dollars this bad."

"Yes, I do."

"Then I'll give it to you. I'm serious. I have it in savings. I'll get it out today and give it to you."

"Don't be ridiculous. This is no big deal."

I heard Suzie come in. She asked Kristin, "Now, what are we going to do about her hair? We need to do something about her hair, too."

Kristin didn't answer her. I could feel Kristin's strong fingers making circles around my eye sockets, removing all the green shadow. But then I could feel another pair of hands. They had to be Suzie's. Her hands started to push and pull at my hair. Then I felt a comb tugging at it.

Suzie said, "If we can just pull this hair forward and then
run it straight down at the sides, like Roberta usually wears it. You know, flat, and straight down. That'll be okay."