Crusader (31 page)

I stood in front of her and waited. She hung up, rolled her eyes, and told me, "Roberta, we need somebody to assist Bill on a remote."

Bill and Mr. McKay raced back into the lobby. Bill called
over to me, "You! Look in the back of the RV. Make sure we have the hundred-foot spool of cable!" I took off for the RV and did what he said. Then I ran back in and Bill shouted another order at me.

Fifteen minutes later Bill, a cameraman, and I were strapped into our seats and heading north, toward the Gold Coast Mall. Neither of them said a word all the way there.

Somehow Mrs. Knight arrived ahead of us with Angela. The two of them held the mall doors open as we drove in with the RV. We stopped almost immediately, though, in front of a place named Bangles Boutique.

A woman, who must have been Veronica, hung up a computer-generated banner that said
ANGELA LIVE—MAKEOVER MADNESS
. Bill pointed at a headset on a console. He told me, "Put that on and listen for Mr. McKay."

I did what he said. Bill and the cameraman went outside and set up. About five minutes later I heard the director through the headset: "Bill? Do you read me?"

"It's not Bill, Mr. McKay. It's Roberta. The intern."

He actually seemed to know who I was. "Oh yeah. Hi, Roberta. Where's Bill?"

"He's setting up outside, sir."

"Good. Don't waste any time calling me 'sir.' Things happen very quickly on these remote broadcasts. Every millisecond matters."

"Yes, sir. I mean—Yes, Mr. McKay."

"Just say 'yes.' While we're waiting, check the top video slot on the console. Make sure the emergency tape is in there."

I looked at the top slot. I pulled out a videocassette from it and read its title aloud to him: '
Angela Live
Promo Tape.'"

"That's the one. Good."

Mr. McKay didn't say anything else, so I ventured a question. "What's the emergency tape for?"

"That's in case something goes wrong. We always need a backup tape on a remote broadcast."

"What kind of things go wrong?"

"When we're live? Anything and everything. Sometimes we have technical problems, like a broken cable. Sometimes all hell breaks loose, you know, and we don't want the audience to see what's really going on."

Bill came huffing back up the steps. I removed the headset and handed it to him. He and Mr. McKay worked out director's cues and commercial breaks. I looked out the big window and watched while Mrs. Knight, Angela, and the cameraman prepped the employees of Bangles Boutique and three women volunteers. Each of the volunteers would be given a complete makeover.

About five minutes before the broadcast, Bill realized that I was just sitting there. He ripped off the headset and pointed outside. "Do you see that soundboard?"

I stood up to see it. "Yes."

"Go out there and watch the decibel meter. Signal me with your fingers: one finger for one hundred, two fingers for two hundred, three for three hundred, you get the idea?"

I said, "Four fingers for four hundred?" to see if he would laugh.

He didn't. He answered seriously, "Right. You got it. Now go. And don't take your eyes off that meter."

I did just as Bill said. I stared at the soundboard the entire time and held up my fingers. I never saw any of the show.

When I got to the mall, I was surprised to see Nina inside Suzie's office. She seemed equally surprised to see me. Nina and Suzie were leaning over the desk, signing a paper. I was going to leave without bothering them, but Nina called to me, "Wait up, Roberta. I'm outta here, too."

Nina preceded me out the door. Then she turned and said, "Don't tell anybody what you saw in there, okay?"

"What did I see?"

"You don't know?"

"No."

"If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anybody? Not Kristin, or any of those loser guys at Arcane? And especially not any adults?"

"I promise."

"That crazy lady at the Beauty Supply called Suzie. She told her I took stuff without paying for it. She filed a complaint. She's nuts."

"Why? You didn't take it?"

"Yes, I took it. But I was gonna pay for it. I looked at my watch and saw I was ten minutes late for work. I'm in that Beauty Supply place all the time. I'm their best customer. I was gonna pay for it on my break." Nina shook her head at the injustice of it. "She ought to pay me to shop in that dump. Instead she does something like this."

We stopped for a moment in the rotunda, about to part ways. But first Nina took a strand of my hair in her hand. "You still need that makeover, Roberta. You should have seen
Angela
today. They were doing makeovers at the Gold Coast Mall."

I broke off and started to walk away. But before I did, I said, "I know. I was there."

Nina's eyes got wide. "What? You were what?"

"I work on the show."

Nina ran after me. "Why didn't you tell me? I'd have gone there. I'd have gotten a makeover. I'd have met Angela!"

"What's the big deal? I see her all the time."

"You see Angela del Fuego all the time?"

"When I'm at the studio, yeah. I usually see her."

"Can I come to the studio?"

"Sure. They give student tours."

"Really? Would they give me a student tour?"

"No. But you could go with your journalism class, or your communications class, or your honors English class. Just call them up. Actually, you should have your teacher call."

"I will. I will. I'm telling Sister Ann tomorrow: 'Call Channel Fifty-seven and get us
the Angela
tour.'"

I corrected her, "The student tour."

"Yeah. Whatever."

We walked into Arcane like that. Kristin looked up, surprised to see us together. I don't know how anyone can still be surprised by anything Nina does. She acts like the incident with her father never happened.

Nina reached into her pocket and pulled out a newspaper clipping. She stood in front of the counter, unfolded it, and said to Kristin, "I just wanted to show you what you missed. These are pictures from the cotillion."

"Why would I want to see those?"

"I just thought, you know, since you couldn't go, you'd like to see what it was like."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Like I said, because I was there, and you weren't."

"I didn't want to be there."

"Right. What? You wanted to be here?"

Kristin clenched her teeth. "Just put it away, Nina."

Nina refolded the paper. "Okay. Sorry. I understand, with your face and everything."

"If you think this is about my face, then no, you don't understand." She added, "And neither does your father."

I thought Nina would go stomping away at that, but she didn't. She walked around, stood next to Kristin, and stared out at the mallway, just like old times.

I studied the two of them. They used to be so much alike.
Tonight they were near opposites. Kristin was wearing a plain A-line denim dress. She had no makeup on. Nina had on a white silk blouse, cut low in front. She had lots of makeup on.

Barely a minute had passed before Nina said, "You know that chick Cynthia? She's in honors English?"

Kristin still sounded a little angry. But she, too, was willing to change the subject. She answered, "Yeah. I know who you mean."

"She's having breast enhancement surgery. She's already got it scheduled, for, like, the week after graduation. That way she'll be ready for college."

Kristin said quietly, "That is so sad."

"What? It's not sad if she's doing something about it. She's got, like, nothing there. Me? I'd do it if I had to. Fortunately I don't."

Kristin shook her head slowly.

Nina continued, "I need, like, leg enhancement surgery. I need to be about six inches taller."

Kristin didn't respond.

"I wonder if they can do that. You know? Like, take the bones from some girl who just died and graft them onto somebody else's legs. Make them taller. Why not, right? They can do everything else."

Kristin finally said, "I thought Cynthia had more sense than that. And more character."

"Character? Hey, chill out, girl. She's just trying to be all that she can be."

"By mutilating her body so she can attract boys?"

Nina finally gave up. "Maybe we ought to talk about something else."

At break time, I walked outside and turned toward the rotunda. I noticed Uncle Frank out of the corner of my eye. He was standing behind the Sony monitor, like he was hiding.
As soon as he saw me, though, he seemed to get an idea. He said, "Hey, Roberta. Do you know Devin, the manager at Candlewycke?"

I said, "Yes." I couldn't help but ask, "Why? Do you?"

Uncle Frank shot me a look filled with resentment, but he continued, "Do you think you could deliver this envelope to him? It's just some paperwork."

I took the envelope from his outstretched hand. "Paperwork for what?"

Uncle Frank explained, "To make us some extra money."

At Candlewycke I waited outside until Devin drifted like a black specter into the back. Then I hurried in and handed the envelope to Betty. "That's from my uncle. It's for Devin. It's some paperwork."

Betty looked doubtful, but she took the envelope. There was no sign of Devin returning, so I decided to stay for a minute. I said, "Hey, Betty, does Devin wear that same shirt every day?"

Betty thought about that. "I don't think it's the same shirt. I just think he has a lot of them."

"Yeah? But long sleeves? In Florida?"

Betty turned the question back on me. "What do you care? Why can't people wear what they want?"

"I'm just curious."

Betty backed off a bit. "I think it's because of his tattoos. He has lots of them, all over his body. If you look down the back of his neck, you can see them."

We stood over the Nazi dagger case for a minute. Finally Betty asked me, "So ... what are you guys doing tonight?"

"Hanging out. Why don't you stop by on break? Nina's there. It looks like she's sticking around."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe I will."

I took off back to the arcade. Karl greeted me right away with, "Hey, Roberta, AAs tonight."

"Are you sure, Karl?"

"Yeah. African Americans. Right?"

"Right."

"A busload of them. They're down here for a gospel-singing thing."

"How do you know?"

"My dad wrote it on this paper." Karl held up a page from a loose-leaf binder. "He wants us to put an
OUT OF ORDER
sign on King Kong. He doesn't want anybody to get offended by those natives."

"Okay. What time are they coming?"

"I don't know. When they get here."

Karl sounded like he was getting agitated. I think he just wanted me to be impressed that he knew what AAs were, and to leave it at that. I went into the back to make the sign.

Hawg and Ironman were sitting on a pile of cardboard boxes. I found a piece of white paper and wrote
OUT OF ORDER
on it.

Hawg said, "What's that for?"

"King Kong. If we need it."

Hawg nodded like he understood, and I'm sure he did. I told him, "I liked what you said in journalism class today."

"You did, huh?"

"Yeah. I thought you put it really well."

Hawg gave me the strangest look. "Yeah. So did Mr. Homo. That's why he gave me that F."

I wasn't surprised, but I said, "What do you mean? For what you said in class?"

"For the whole shootin' match, darlin'. Now tell me somethin'—how's that fair?"

I knew he didn't really want me to answer that question. But he stood there like he was waiting for some reply, so I decided to tell him the truth. I said, "Well, if you didn't do the classwork for six weeks, what did you expect?"

Hawg's eyes blazed up with instant and frightening fury. He leaped to his feet. Ironman backed out of the way, but I stayed put.

Hawg pointed a big, accusing finger at me and cried, "What did I expect? I expected to get a C, that's what. I read that damn boring muckraker book. I ain't gonna sit up front like you butt-kissers do every day and tell him how 'interesting' it was. I ain't gonna do that. But I still don't deserve no damn F. I don't deserve to get kicked off the football team! What did I expect? I expected things to go right! Like they always did! I was never in no damn trouble until I got sent down here. I expected things to be ... like they were."

Hawg panted, out of breath with the effort that had taken. He calmed down very quickly. He said almost apologetically, "Well, that's my second speech today, isn't it? How'd you like that one?"

I said, "I'm sorry. I hope you can keep playing football."

"Forget it. Go put your sign up."

I hurried out and taped the sign to King Kong. Uncle Frank walked by the platform as I did, and he nodded approval.

The busload of AAs arrived right after that. Suddenly everybody but Nina was busy. Fortunately for her, Betty dropped by to keep her company. It was comical to me to see the two of them at the counter, standing there like a Before and After rerun.

I guess Karl found it funny, too. He walked up to them and said to Betty, "What's with all the black? You're scaring the customers away."

Betty gave it back to him. "Oh? And you're not?"

Hawg got a big laugh out of that. He called over to me, "Hey, Roberta! Who is that?"

I don't know why I did it. Maybe I was tired. But I just said it out loud, "Betty the Goth." Then I froze, realizing I had never called her that name to her face.

Betty came down from the counter. I tried to drift away, but she followed me. She confronted me in front of Vampire's Feast. "My last name is not 'The Goth.' Do you understand? That is stupid. I've heard you say that about me before, and I want you to stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Those words do not describe me. They do not define me." She looked at me with ghostly black anger. "What is my name?"

I had to admit to her, "I don't know."

"How can you not know? I'm in two classes with you. You should know my name."

"Sorry."

"I know your name. It's Roberta Ritter. I don't call you something else, do I? I don't call you Roberta the Androgyne. Or Roberta the Hermaphrodite. Do I?"