Georgia's Greatness (8 page)

"Oh," Annie said. "That is hard."

It was. We didn't want to be the only kids at the parade without anyone there to cheer for us, with no one but one another to be proud.

"Say," Annie said. "I have an idea. Come on!"

She rose from the table and we followed where she led: right to Mommy's private study.

We normally didn't like to go into Mommy's study unless it was an absolute emergency. Mommy had had a rule that we couldn't go in there, and we still tried to obey the rule even now that she'd gone to ... wherever she had gone to.

"What are you doing?" Durinda asked as Annie seated herself behind Mommy's desk and picked up the phone.

"I found this phone's instruction manual," Annie said, "and I realized it's also a speakerphone. It's the only one in the house that is."

Annie dialed a number and hit a button on the phone, and we listened as the phone of whomever she was calling started to ring.

"Who are you calling?" Jackie asked.

"Shh," Annie said as we heard a click; someone had picked up at the other end.

"Hullo," a man's sleepy voice said.

It was Pete the mechanic!

"Mr. Pete, this is Annie Huit," Annie said.

"Oh, hullo, Annie!" Pete sounded wide awake now. And somehow he seemed both cheerful and concerned. "You don't need your car fixed this early in the morning, do you, lamb? You haven't been sabotaged again?"

"Oh, no," Annie said hurriedly, "nothing like that. We were just wondering..." Suddenly, Annie sounded shy.

"Yes, Annie? How can I help?"

Annie spoke in a rush, as though worried that she'd lose her nerve if she didn't. "It's just that, at our school today there's going to be a big parade, for St. Patrick's Day, and we're going to be marching in it, and all of the other kids will have at least one parent there..." She ran out of steam as a sad expression came over her face. "Of course, it's a Monday, so you'll no doubt be working at Pete's Repairs and Auto Wrecking..."

"I do usually work Mondays," he said gently.

"Yes," Annie said, more sadly yet, "I did just realize that."

"What time did you say the parade was?" Pete asked.

"I didn't," Annie said. "But it's at two o'clock. It'll take up the whole hour before school ends. Of course, that's still in the middle of your workday, so—"

"I'll be there with bells on," Pete said.

We had no idea what that meant exactly, but it did sound good.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Pete won't be able to make it," Pete added. "She's off visiting her sister. But I'll be there—"

"Yes, with bells on!" Annie said excitedly.

"—because you can always count on me." Pete finished making his point. "I'd be honored to be your loco parentis."

We thought that maybe Pete was calling our parents crazy. But that didn't sound like something Pete would say.

"Thank you, Mr. Pete!" eight voices shouted into the speakerphone.

"No," Pete said right back at us. "Thank
you,
Eights."

We sighed happy sighs as Annie switched off the speakerphone. It was tough sometimes to know whom we loved more in our world: Will or Mr. Pete.

Back at the breakfast table, we all finished our pancakes with relish. All except Georgia, that is.

Georgia wasn't eating at all.

"I'm afraid I'm not going today," Georgia said.

"Not going!" Jackie cried. "But how can you miss the parade?"

"Aren't you feeling well?" Durinda asked.

"Yes and no," Georgia said. "My body feels okay enough. It's just that ... this month! Everything has been about luck! What good luck: my gift arrives early. What bad luck: I send it away. What good luck: my cat discovers my power. What bad luck: my cat discovers my power before I do. What good luck: I get named Grand Marshal. What bad luck: I can't go."

"Yes," Annie said, "I do see that you've developed a theme there. But I still don't understand that last part. Why can't you go?"

"Because I feel funny about it," Georgia said, "and for once, I'm going to try to get things right."

"So what will you do instead?" Marcia asked. "Stay home?"

"Stay home alone," Rebecca said, "on what will probably be the most fun day we'll ever have at school?"

"I should get very lonely if I stayed home alone," Petal said. "I'd be scared too."

"No," Georgia said. "I guess I shouldn't have said before that I'm not going. I am still going ... only I'm going to be invisible. That means that you, Annie, need to do your Daddy impersonation in order to phone me in sick."

"I still don't understand," Annie said.

"I'm not sure that I fully understand either," Georgia said. "But it's what I want."

"Very well," Annie said.

"Just don't go around pinching me all day while you're busy being invisible," Petal said.

"But wait a second," Zinnia said. "If you're not going to be Grand Marshal—which you can't be if you're busy being invisible—then who will lead the parade?"

"You will," Georgia said, placing her hand on Zinnia's shoulder. "You're the only one besides me who's had any practice at it."

***

Pete didn't have any bells on, at least not that we could see, nor did he have on the Armani tuxedo jacket he'd worn that one time he'd bailed us out of trouble with Principal Freud and the McG. He just had on his navy blue mechanic's T-shirt and his loose jeans that hung down below his big belly. It didn't matter what he wore, though. We were just so glad to see him as we paraded on past, his salt-and-pepper hair shining in the sun as though he'd used conditioner just for us. We were so happy to see the look of pride in his dancing blue eyes as he put his fingers to his lips, let out a long whistle, and then screamed, "Go, Eights!"

Right before the festivities had started, we introduced Mandy to Pete. We hadn't really wanted to, but she'd been just standing there when he arrived in his pickup. So we'd told her what we'd gotten in the habit of telling everybody: that Pete was our uncle. Pete didn't seem to mind, and Mandy seemed oddly impressed that we had an uncle who wore his jeans so low.

It was a beautiful day for a parade.

The weather, as Ms. Harkness had promised, was cooperating. The last trickles of rain had finally ended sometime in the night, and a powerful sun hung over the Whistle Stop. Zinnia, filling in for Georgia as Grand Marshal, led the entire student body around the school grounds.

Zinnia bobbed up ahead of us. Occasionally, the large flag she carried veered off to one side, threatening to pull her over with it, but then the flag would straighten up as though helped by some invisible force.

We knew what that invisible force was: Georgia.

"This is great," Marcia said as we marched.

"I feel as though we're part of a marching band," Jackie said.

"I feel as though we're marching off to war," Rebecca said with a gleam in her eye.

We all suspected Rebecca would enjoy a war.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" fretted Petal.

"What do you mean?" asked Durinda.

"Aren't we Jewish?" Petal asked. "It's what Jackie always says."

"Who knows?" Annie shrugged. "It's been a while since we were in a church or a synagogue." She thought a moment before adding, "Or a mosque."

"But this is a St. Patrick's Day parade," Petal insisted. "Are we even Irish?"

"With a name like Huit?" Annie gave another shrug. "I don't think so. But I can't see any harm in marching."

So on we marched.

Zinnia said nothing. She was too busy trying to keep that flag aloft.

And then, all too soon, the hour was up, the parade was over, our day in the sun was finished. We said goodbye to Pete, who had to rush back to work.

We watched as most of the other students went off with their parents. Then we headed back to the classroom. If we hurried, we could just make our bus.

"Where are you seven going?" We were stopped by the voice of Serena Harkness.

"We need to get our things from the classroom," Annie told her. "Then we have to hurry to catch the bus."

"Oh, dear." Ms. Harkness put a pretty hand to her own pretty cheek. "Do you mean you didn't have even one parent here to see you today? You don't have even one parent to take you home?"

Seven visible heads plus one invisible one shook no.

"Our father is modeling in France," Jackie said.

"Mommy went with him this time," said Zinnia.

"But our uncle will be by later to check on us," Annie hastily added so Ms. Harkness wouldn't worry that we'd be home alone.

"But what about Georgia?" Ms. Harkness asked. "Who's taking care of her? You know, I really do worry about her whenever I can't see her."

"Ouch!" Annie said, and we realized that Georgia must have pinched her between the ribs. "That's right. Er, our aunt is there with her right now. Aunt, er, Sally."

"I tell you what," Ms. Harkness said as though she'd just had the most wonderful idea. "Why don't I give you a ride home today?"

"How big is your car?" Rebecca asked. "There are eight of us here, you know. Ouch! I mean seven."

"We fill up most of the minibus," Marcia added.

"Oh," Ms. Harkness said, "I have a vehicle big enough to hold all of you. Come along."

So we followed her to the teachers' parking lot, where, it turned out, she
did
have a big vehicle.

"I think that must be the biggest car ever made!" Zinnia said, awe in her eyes. The vehicle was huge, and it was painted the color of an army uniform.

"Do you like it?" Ms. Harkness asked. "I just bought it yesterday."

When we climbed inside of it, it did have that new-car smell.

Ms. Harkness put the key in the ignition, and the car hummed to life. Then she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street.

"Don't you need me to tell you where to go?" Annie yelled from the back.

"I have an even better idea," Ms. Harkness said as she drove, speaking as though this idea too had just come to her. "Why don't I take you all back to my place for dinner? With your parents both in France, your aunt taking care of Georgia, and your uncle not stopping by until later, it might be more fun for you. I know—we can even order a pizza!"

Seven voices instantly shouted, "Yes!"

Georgia pinched us all at least five times, but it was too late: we'd already accepted the invitation.

And we were glad we had.

After all, what could be better than being invited over to have pizza with Serena Harkness?

CHAPTER EIGHT

The house was solid brick; at least, the whole front side of it was, with not a window in sight.

For some reason, we all thought immediately of the last house that was built by the Three Little Pigs—you know, the one the wolf couldn't blow down.

The house was also very large, even larger than our house!

And it was the only house on the street.

"Wow," Rebecca whispered, then she let out a low whistle. "I had no idea substitute teachers made so much money."

"Come along," Ms. Harkness chirruped at us. Then she used several keys to open the several locks that were on the one iron door that was the only way into the house as far as the eye could see.

Once we were inside, she locked just as many locks from the inside before pocketing the set of keys.

"Feel free to look around," she said, turning on the lights. "I just need to check on something in the other room. Won't be more than a few minutes, and then we can order that pizza."

Since it's silly to refuse an invitation to be nosy, we took her at her word and looked around.

The front room was the most beautiful room we'd ever been in. Everything was a work of art, and yet so touchable, in pretty shades of pink and purple, green and turquoise.

"Psst," we heard Georgia's voice hiss. "Get out of this house while you still can. Something's not right here."

But we ignored her voice. We even ignored all her pinches.

We'd seen the Wicket's house. We knew what evil looked like, and this wasn't it.

There was a painting on the wall, a very large painting of two women, obviously twins, with long chestnut-colored hair. The women reminded us of Serena Harkness, but they were about ten years older than her. They also reminded us of someone else, but we couldn't quite figure out of whom. One of the women's eyes were chocolate brown; the other woman's eyes looked as if they were moving around desperately.

Huh. That was funny. Those moving eyes that were following us about, they looked like the McG's eyes.

But as we stepped toward the painting, thinking to investigate further, Ms. Harkness returned.

Something about her had changed in the short time she'd been out of the room. Not her clothes, not her hair—it was nothing like that. Rather, it was the way she acted toward us.

"Come along now," she said, but it wasn't in the bright and friendly way she'd said it before. "Don't dawdle."

Feeling as though we couldn't argue, we followed her out of that room, around the corner, and into another room.

This room was nothing like the front room.

The walls were made of dark brick, and there were no windows, although we supposed, having seen the front of the house, we shouldn't have expected any. It was like a dungeon except it wasn't in a basement. The floor was made of cold-looking cement, and there wasn't a stick of furniture or a pillow or a decoration or a painting in sight. But there
was
one other person, and we don't mean Ms. Harkness, and we don't mean Invisible Georgia.

"McG!" we cried, unable to address our teacher properly in the midst of our shock.

"Eights!" she cried back at us, equally shocked.

And what was even more shocking? The McG actually looked relieved to see us.

"What's going on here?" Annie demanded, rounding on Ms. Harkness.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ms. Harkness said. "And I was informed that you eight—now seven—were supposed to be so very smart. Well, from where I'm sitting, you don't seem very smart at all."

"You're not sitting," Rebecca pointed out. "You're standing."

It probably wasn't the best time for rudeness, but we couldn't blame Rebecca. And, truth be told, if we hadn't been so scared right then, we would have cheered for her.