Deenie (10 page)

"It feels tight under my arms too," I told her. "You have to get used to that," she said. Besides the metal strips I had a whole section of white plastic around my middle and some kind of pad on part of my back.

"You'd be more comfortable if you'd wear the undershirt."

"You said I didn't have to."

"Why don't you take it home anyway, just in case you change your mind."

"Maybe," I told her. "Right now I feel like I'm in a cage and no undershirt's going to change that! And suppose I grow? What happens then?"

"The brace is adjustable but if you outgrow it Dr. Stewart will make another mold of you and you'll get a new brace."

"I don't think I can live through this. I really don't!"

"I know it seems that way. But you will live through it. Lots of girls do."

"That's easy for you to say. You don't have scoliosis."

"That's true," she said, like we were talking about the weather. "But when you think of the alternatives, isn't wearing a brace better?"

"What do you mean? Better than an operation?"

"I mean better than growing up with a curved spine."

"I don't know," I said. "I'm not sure about anything."

Miss Harrigan walked over to a desk and opened the middle drawer. She took something out. "I'm going to show you some pictures, Deenie. Then you can decide for yourself."

She opened a booklet to some sketches of people with terrible looking bodies, all crooked and bent over.

"Here's an illustration of a person with scoliosis, a side-to-side curve of the spine."

"Like me?"

"Yes, except you'll never look that way. Aren't you glad?"

"I'd kill myself if I did."

"No you wouldn't. But we don't have to argue about it because it's not going to happen." She turned the page. There was a sketch of somebody who looked just like Old Lady Murray.

"I know someone like that!" I said.

"It's an illustration of kyphosis," Miss Harrigan told me. "A front-to-back curve of the spine."

"Is that the same as hunchback?" "Yes."

It was hard to believe that I really and truly had something in common with Old Lady Murray.

When we left Dr. Kliner's office I was wearing the brace with Helen's skirt and shirt over it. I was kind of scared that Ma would start crying again when she saw me. Instead she said, "Well, that's not bad at all. You can hardly tell you're wearing it, Deenie." I knew from the catch in her voice that she was just saying it and didn't mean a single word.

Daddy asked, "How does it feel?"

"Like I'm in a cage," I said.

As I was getting into the back seat of the car I whacked my head on the top of the door.

"Are you all right?" Ma asked.

"I don't know."

"Let me see," Daddy said, parting my hair. "There's no blood," he told us, as he rubbed my scalp.

"I guess I'm okay," I said. "I guess I just can't bend my head with this brace on." As soon as I said that I started to cry. I cried the way I wanted to when I first saw the brace, loud and hard, until my throat hurt. Daddy didn't try to stop me. He just held me tight while he rocked back and forth, patting my head.

Thirteen

The crying stopped as fast as it started. As soon as we got home I went up to my room and pulled off my clothes. I stood in front of my long mirror, inspecting the brace carefully from every angle. I was a disaster. I was as ugly as anything I'd ever seen. "Damn you!" I shouted at my reflection. "Damn you crooked spine!"

I went to my desk and took out my scissors. Then I stood in front of the mirror again and hacked off one whole side of my hair. Right up to the ear. I watched as it fell to the floor. I'm crazy, I thought. I'm like the Deenie in the movie. When she went crazy the first thing she did was chop off her hair. I threw my scissors down, kicked the mirror and hurt my foot. That got me even more sore so I picked up the scissors and started cutting away at the rest of my hair. I cut and cut and cut until there was a big pile of hair on the floor and just a few loose strands hanging from my head. If I was going to be ugly I was going to be ugly all the way … as ugly as anybody'd ever been before … maybe even uglier.

Ma called from downstairs, "Lunch Deenie … " and for some dumb reason that made me laugh because all of a sudden I was hungry. No matter how bad things are people still get hungry. That's a fact.

When I walked into the kitchen Ma was bending over the sink. She said, "We're going shopping first thing tomorrow. Aunt Rae said she'll drive us downtown so you can get some new things for school."

Daddy sat at the table and stared at me.

"What do you say to that, Deenie?" Ma asked, turning around. "Oh my God! Deenie … what have you done to your hair?"

"I cut it."

"Why … why did you do such a thing?"

"I felt like it." I reached for my grilled cheese and tomato sandwich.

Ma put her hand across her mouth and shook her head.

I tried to eat my sandwich as if nothing was wrong. But I was used to bending over toward my food and with the brace on I couldn't bend at all. Not even my head. I couldn't really see my plate. I had to lift my sandwich straight up to my mouth. It was the same with my milk, which is probably why I spilled some of it down my front. Daddy jumped up to help me. He said, "I think you'd be more comfortable if you pushed your chair away from the table. That way you can lean over and see your food."

"I'm not hungry anyway!" I shouted, and in my hurry to get away from the table, I knocked over the chair. I went up the stairs as fast as I could, slammed my bedroom door and tried to flop down on my bed. But I couldn't even flop anymore. So I cursed. I said every bad word I knew. Every single one. I yelled them as loud as I could and then I screamed them again, spelling each one out loud. I expected Ma to really punish me for that. She can't stand to hear those words. Once, when I was a little kid, she washed my mouth out with soap just for saying the F word. And in those days I didn't even know what it meant.

Later that afternoon I was in the bathroom. Even a stupid ordinary thing like sitting on the toilet wasn't the same for me now. The brace made everything different. And wouldn't you know it—that was when my period decided to come—of all the dumb times!

I called, "Ma … Ma … I need help!"

Helen came to the bathroom door. I didn't know she was home from school already. "Ma's not here," she said.

"Where is she?"

"Daddy says she walked over to the A&P."

"But she never walks anywhere."

"I guess she didn't want to leave you home alone. Daddy's downstairs … do you want me to get him?"

"No."

"Are you okay?"

"I just got my period and I can't get to the stuff."

"I'll get it for you," Helen said.

I sat on the toilet because I didn't know what else to do and in a minute Helen came in with the pads. I pulled my bathrobe tight around me. I didn't want her to see the brace yet.

She stood there looking at me.

I felt like a freak.

Finally she said, "You cut your hair."

I put my hand to my head to feel it. I'd forgotten about my hair. I thought Helen was looking at the brace.

She started to laugh then. "It looks so funny," she said.

"It just needs to be washed," I told her. What right did she have to laugh at how I looked? "Now could I please have the stuff?"

"Oh sure." Helen handed it to me. "Are you really going to wear it like that?"

"What?"

"Your hair."

"Of course!"

"I could probably help you straighten it out. It wouldn't be bad if I snipped off the strands that are hanging."

"I like it this way!"

"Okay," Helen said. "Do you need any help with the pad?"

"No," I told her. "I can do it myself."

"Okay," Helen said again as she left.

But I found out I couldn't do it myself because I couldn't bend over to see what I was trying to do. Maybe if I'd been really experienced in wearing that stuff it would have been easier but this was only my second time. I dropped the pad by mistake and then had to figure out how to get it off the floor. Finally I did a knee bend, like Mrs. Rappoport taught us in modern dance and I picked up the pad and started all over again.

When I came out of the bathroom Helen said, "I thought you were planning to spend the night in there."

"I had some trouble. It's not exactly the easiest thing to when you're wearing a brace."

"I'd have helped you."

"I managed myself."

"Well, cheer up," Helen said. "Janet and Midge are coming for supper and Ma's cooking your favorite … eggplant parmigiana."

Fourteen

I love eggplant parmigiana but I don't see why Ma had to invite Janet and Midge for supper. I'm not ready to face them yet. I need time to think and time to get used to the brace. I'm not even going to school on Monday. I'm almost sure Ma won't make me. Maybe next week I'll feel like seeing people but not now!

At five-thirty the doorbell rang, and in a minute Janet and Midge were knocking at my bedroom door, calling my name. I'd washed my hair and I was dressed in Helen's clothes again but I didn't let her snip off any extra strands of hair. When I opened my door Janet and Midge both said, "Hi," in very loud voices, like they'd been practicing.

Usually when we get together in my room we lounge around on my bed or the floor but this time we just stood there and I could tell that Janet and Midge were being careful not to look directly at me.

Finally Midge asked, "How do you feel?"

"Fine," I told her. "I'm not sick."

"That's good."

Then Janet said, "We didn't know they'd have to cut off all your hair."

"They didn't," I said. "I did it."

"Yourself?" Janet asked.

"Yes."

"How come?"

"Because I felt like it."

"No kidding!" Midge said.

"That's a fact," I told her.

"Well, it looks tuff," she said, glancing at Janet.

"Yeah, it's really different," Janet said.

I turned and walked over to my bed. I sat down on the edge. "Aren't you going to say anything about the brace?"

They looked at each other again. "If you don't say something soon I think I'm going to scream!"

"But your mother told us not to talk about it," Janet said.

"Oh … I should have known that was it!" I wish Ma would stop pretending. Does she think it's going to disappear if nobody says anything?

"Anyway," Midge said, "it's not so bad. An operation would be a lot worse."

"You can hardly notice this," Janet said.

I stood up. "You're both lying!" I shouted. "You're supposed to be my friends!"

"What do you want us to say?" Midge asked.

"The truth!"

They looked at each other.

"Well … " I said.

"Oh Deenie!" Janet finally said. "We don't know what to say or how to act or anything. We were going to make believe we didn't even notice."

"And say that you looked swell, like always," Midge said.

"But if you want to know the truth," Janet said, "it was a real shock, even though we knew the doctors would have to do something because you can't grow up with a crooked spine."

"It's not called crooked spine. It's called scoliosis." I reached for my notebook and opened it to the page I'd copied from my encyclopedia. "You better read this," I said, handing the notebook to Janet.

She and Midge sat on my bed and read it together. "This is very interesting," Midge told me.

"You don't know anything yet!" I said, and gave them a rundown on all the doctors I'd seen and how I had to be sawed out of my mold and everything. "I'm thinking of becoming an orthopedist myself."

"But what about modeling?" Janet asked.

"I never wanted to be one anyway."

"You didn't?"

"That's a fact."

Ma called then. "Deenie … supper … "

"Let's go," I told them. "I'm starving!"

As we headed down the stairs Janet said, "You're really brave, Deenie. If I had to wear that thing I'd go to pieces. I'd never be able to live through it!"

That night when I got into bed I couldn't find a comfortable position. No matter which way I turned the brace bothered me. I wanted to take it off but I knew if I did I'd only have to wear it longer. I was sure I'd never fall asleep again.

The next morning Aunt Rae picked us up in her car. When she saw me she cried which made Ma start in all over again. I was getting pretty tired of the whole thing. After all, I was the one in the brace, but the way they acted you'd have thought it was them.

We went downtown to Drummond's Department Store and I thought of my beautiful nightie. I wonder if anyone's bought it yet? We got off the elevator on the third floor—Junior Sportswear and Dresses. The saleslady started asking questions right away. "What happened dear? Were you in an accident?"