Ledge Walkers (5 page)

She smiled, and above her flew the portrait, forced back and forth by Susan's hand. “Can I have this, Holly?"

"Of course! She yours, not mine."

"Okay, ladies, we've only got fifteen minutes left, so make sure your faces are on properly,” Claudia said.

"Hon, you're probably going to kill me for this, but I want to take care of something first,” I said, immediately looking away so that “Don't!” didn't find its way to me. “Maggie, I don't mean to put you on the spot—okay, yes I do. You said before that you think Susan tries to hide you, that she doesn't want to you look like a lesbian.

She says that's not true, but I don't think you believe her. That's a pretty nasty feeling to have inside, especially about someone you love. So as hall monitor or whatever the hell I am in this class, I hereby banish you to a timeout for failure to listen. That corner over there—now!” I instructed, pointing to the corner by the front door.

She was floored, but she did as I asked. Yes, I wielded that much power.

"And you, Susan, I hereby banish you to a timeout as well, for failure to convince. That corner over there—

now!” I said, pointing to the same corner where the confused Maggie stood. “Neither of you are allowed to come out of the corner until that nasty feeling is down for the count. Understand?"

They both grinned at me and took to the corner. I watched them until I knew they were engaged in conversation.

Then I turned my back to them. I feared looking at Claudia, but I slowly did so to find a smile attached to a shaking head.

"What? Would you want to feel like that? I had to do something."

"That's not what I meant,” she clarified. “I only got one of your eyes done. Sit down so I can finish."

Okay, so it wasn't power I wielded. It was fear.

As she finished my face, I noticed how chummy Charles and Holly had become. They chatted about how helpful her drawing was and how much the other knew about color. I saw her kiss him on the cheek, saying,

“You are such a sweet guy!” Then she turned to Laura, who, I must admit, had behaved herself quite nicely throughout our little art class. Holly said, “I just love this man, Laura. Can we take him home? Can we keep him? Please, oh please?"

Laura crossed her arms over her chest, acting as if she were contemplating. “I don't know,” she said. “That's a pretty big decision."

"What if I promise not to poop on the lawn?” Charles asked.

"Well, in that case...” Laura replied, laughing.

I really didn't know any normal people, did I?

As everybody straightened up, I moved the dining room table and chairs back into their usual position. All the while I thought about trust. Maybe because I had tried to get Ginny to consider it. Maybe because I saw how tenuous it could be, watching Susan and Maggie struggle to find it. I guessed that it really didn't matter. What did matter, though, was that when I opened the door at ten fifteen, there stood Janice. When I opened it again, there stood Charles. We began each session completely dependent upon the fact that our guests would arrive on time. That was unadulterated trust, and that was exactly what it would take now to open the drapery in the dining room.

Claudia did her little hand clapping ritual, and for such a rambunctious crew, they did what was expected of them. They huddled to listen to her next explanation.

"It's lunchtime, and I'm sure you're all hungry” she began. “Kate and I kind of went back and forth on this one.

Should it be Home Ec, or should it be lunchtime? There's a good reason for each, so we decided to make it both."

The glances between them commenced, and it was easy to tell who was famished.

"In Home Ec, they taught us the basics of domestic slavery, and probably how to make some essentials like brownies and chocolate chip cookies. But did they really teach us anything we needed to know to grow up to be strong, healthy women?"

The expected “No!” arrived promptly. That was trust, too. Both ways.

"I mean could any one of us make a lunch for ... say Maggie, being the vegan she is? What we learned was the typical, but what we needed to know was how to personalize,” she said.

Then I jumped in, “And everybody remembers lunchtime. The women who had to ‘aversion to children’ in their job descriptions. And the slop—those piles ofstuff that had names but never quite resembled what they were supposed to be."

Everybody seemed to remember and started tossing out names of things, making faces to match.

"What I remember the most, though,” I continued, “was that lunchtime was the time for revenge. If you were being bullied or if you pissed off someone that morning, lunchtime was when you were paid in full. In class you were safe because it would have been too obvious. But in an unruly lunchroom, it was inevitable that you would be tripped, spat at, kicked, stolen from, or have food slung at you, and nobody noticed. It just kind of mixed into the chaos."

Some nodding occurred, and this time it was easy to tell who had been bullied.

Claudia said, “We'll be combining those two things. We'll be having a lunch fit for a vegan, and we'll be exacting a little revenge.” She smiled wickedly, and I liked it. “Kate, care to do the honors?"

This is where the epitome of trust entered the picture. Either this would come off without a hitch, or we'd feel like buffoons while we waited for the pizza person to set off the bellman.

I pulled open the drapes, and as I did so, the influx of air arrived with the aroma of something cooking. “We have an expert in the backyard who has been busy at the grill. If you'll just find a place to sit, your lunch will be served in just a few moments."

As I entered the porch, I heard the crowd move into high gear. There was no questioning between them about whether or not they would comply. I opened the porch door, entered the backyard, and there I saw our chef du jour, all ready and waiting. Trust!

"Hi there!” I greeted. “It was so nice of you to do this for us. We can't thank you enough."

"Oh, trust me, Kate,” she said, and I did. “I'm getting something out of this, too, and I can't wait."

I laughed as she handed me a big, big platter stacked high with burgers. “Then let's get this show on the road!

I'll be right back."

I reentered the house and set the platter on the table. “Veggie burgers!” I announced, and I knew to expect apprehension. Hell, I was apprehensive.

"What is this, Maggie's revenge on all of us?” Alison asked, and as she did so I realized that Claudia had managed to seat Kris and Ginny in a good place.

Claudia explained, “Alison, this day is about learning new things. If you've never had a veggie burger, you'll learn something. Maggie didn't get a very good deal last time, what with those Mad Cow burgers and all.” She shot dirty looks at Kris and Ginny, and I detected no guilt whatsoever in their eyes.

"Now, if you will all just behave for a moment, I'll go get dessert."

They seemed to think that dessert would justify having to eat a veggie burger. That made me chuckle, and as I left the dining room again, I specified, “Justdesserts."

A moment later, our chef—owner of Molly's Taphouse, home of the Mad Cow—entered the dining room with a greeting and a wide smile. I watched as Kris and Ginny's mouths dropped and confusion set in. Molly was laughing now, and she approached the two of them, balancing a heavy plate with each hand. “A Mad Cow for you,” she said with the first plate. “And a Mad Cow for you,” she said with the second.

Hysterical laughter took over, and then a round of applause erupted so loud that it was jolting. I knew that each remembered how horrible it had been to consume two and a half pounds of burger, plus a pound of cheese, plus veggies, plus fries. It indeed had been hell. We had vowed to take revenge, and here it was. The looks on Kris and Ginny's faces were indeed things deemed priceless, and revenge was indeed mouthwateringly sweet.

"Why you!” Ginny said, rising from her seat and approaching Molly. “How the heck could you go into cahoots with these crazy women? I feel so betrayed!"

Molly spouted, “Gin, there is nothing I'd like better than to see you get even some of what you've got coming to you.” She laughed and hugged the woman who had been her friend since first grade. “And I mean for both the goodand the bad."

Kris was beside them now, mixing into the hug. Then she turned to us. “Okay, you got us,” she acknowledged to the roaring crowd. “But there is no way we can eat all that!"

"Well,” I said, “we're not moving on until you do, so you two had better get busy. We promise to have as much sympathy for you as you had for us."

Drinks and chips made their way to the table, and I realized that the sounds in the room were no different from an elementary school lunchroom. That was trust, too, for I knew that I could depend on each woman there to get swept up into the moment. I suddenly felt very grateful for them all. And for Charles, the poor man who had been talked into staying.

He secluded himself in the living room, as far from the fray as he could get. He stood there smiling, watching us, shaking his head.

"Come on over and eat with us,” I shouted to him above all the noise.

Kris pulled a chair next to her, saying, “Sit here, Charles. How does Mad Cow sound to you?"

"Not fair!” Claudia spouted. “Eat it yourself!"

I then noticed that no one, except Maggie, had even taken a bite of the veggie burgers. They held them mouth-level but did nothing but stare at them, afraid maybe. I grabbed one from the platter, held it high, and said,

“Here's to revenge! Cheers."

While everyone was quick to toast, not one managed to complete the action by putting the burger into her mouth.

"What exactly is in this anyway?” Holly asked.

Maggie quickly replied, “When you're trying something new, it's always better to try it andthen ask what's in it.

That way your mind will stay open to the experience."

"Oh, I see, Maggie,” Laura said. “You're an expert on trying new things now, huh?” She winked at her.

"For your information, I already agreed to let Charles and Susando my face before he has to leave.” Amazingly, she smiled as she said it, but I think it was more at her agreement than at the prospect of clogging her pores with color. It was a huge risk, and I felt proud of her for stepping beyond what was comfortable.

It was not good timing, but everyone dropped their burgers to their plates and another round of applause erupted.

"Please don't make it any bigger a deal than it already is,” she begged. “Just do me a favor and try the burgers, which, by the way, are very good, Molly. Thank you. Claudia and Kate, you, too. Thanks!"

"You're welcome, Maggie,” Molly countered. “And thanks for the recipe."

"That was you who called the store the other day?” Maggie asked.

"Yes, it was. It's probably time we added a veggie burger to our menu."

"What are you going to call it?” Laura asked. “A Vicious Vegan?"

"On a bed of one hundred percent organic cotton,” Claudia added.

"Enough already!” Ginny said. “If we have to eat these humungous things, the least you could do is join us and eat your lunch!"

Holly stood up, held her burger high, and yelled, “Okay, on the count of three, everybody. One ... two ... three!"

Astonishingly, everyone, including me, took a bite. I knew my throat was preparing to set a roadblock to my stomach, but in the nick of time, I realized it tasted okay, rather good actually. I voluntarily chewed it, and it slid where it belonged, unimpeded. “Pretty good,” I said and prepared for another bite of what was once hot-off-the-grill.

The rest of the group seemed to concur, and the feasting began.

Molly kissed both Ginny and Kris goodbye, saying she needed to get back to the bar. Everyone thanked her, and the ruckus promptly resumed upon her departure.

With a mouth full of food, Alison said, “I remember a time when my Home Ec was actually combined with my lunch. We didn'tproperly seal a baked Alaska, and the ice cream melted all over the oven. The b-word of a teacher made us miss lunch to clean the oven. Anybody else have a horror story?"

"I remember one,” Laura offered.

I quickly teased, “Aw, Laura, you wanted to be a domestic goddess? How sweet!"

"Actually, I wanted one,” she corrected with a smirk.

"Did you get one?” Susan asked, and it dawned on me that she was still intrigued by what had happened in our gym class.

"Just the goddess,” she replied and leaned in to give Holly a kiss.

"Oh no, don't let them kiss!” Alison said, hiding her laughter behind an overused napkin.

"Speaking of b-words,” Laura said and cleared her throat. “Doesn't anyone want to hear my Home Ec story?"

"I do, hon,” Holly cajoled. “Go ahead."

"Well, after this big to-do, it's not very funny anymore."

"Just tell the damn story, Laura! We need something to do while these mad cow women take their own sweet time,” I barked.

"Fine. We were making brownies. I bet this happens in every Home Ec class. This guy in our group decided it would be funny to toss a nickel bag of pot into the batter—"

"Oh, and I bet you perp-walked his ass to the principal's office, huh?” I teased. “Did you collar him?"

"No ... I ate the brownies."

"You didn't!” Susan said, coming nowhere near concealing her shock that the lawful one would do such a thing.

“When did you decide to become a cop then?"

"AfterI got perp-walked to the principal's office,” she said, smiling as Susan gasped. “Just kidding. Actually, I was in college when I made the decision."

"Can I be nosy and ask what made you decide?"

Laura got quiet for a moment, and then she said. “It's one of those things they should have taught in school so we can all grow up to be—What is it you keep saying, Claudia?"

"Strong, healthy women,” she replied with an affirmative nod of her head.

"There was a girl in my dorm who got raped. I remember feeling so angry,” she recalled. “But I never sawher get angry. She just shrank away from everything, pulled inside—like there was something wrong with her instead what had happened to her. Eventually she just dropped out. I remember thinking that for something that took a total of ten horrific minutes, she was still being hurt and would always be affected by it. It made me think hard about a lot of things and what I could do. I was studying microbiology. I figured I could spend my time learning about anything the son-of-a-bitch might have given her, or I could hunt his ass down so he could pay instead of her. I dropped out and enrolled at the academy."