Mister Death's Blue-Eyed Girls (4 page)

Still laughing, Bobbi Jo says, "You should've heard Cheryl. That guy won't bother us again."

"It's not my fault he's a faggot," Cheryl says.

"The beer's here," somebody yells.

This time, they hand out National Bo in tall, long-necked bottles. Bigger bottles last longer, I guess.

It's my third beer. I must be drunk. I must be really bad, too. A very bad girl. A juvenile delinquent. Before I know it, I'll be in a home for wayward girls.

We dance again. This time I'm with Charlie, and the Platters are singing "Only You." I let him hold me tight, I feel his body press against me. I don't care that his head is on my shoulder instead of the way it should be, my head on his shoulder.

The next thing I know, I'm letting him kiss me and I like the feel of his lips on mine, even if I have to bend down a little.

Then the song ends. We draw apart and look at each other. Charlie says, "Whew, Long Tall Sally," but for some reason I start laughing. I laugh and laugh. I laugh so hard I'm scared I'm going to wet my pants.

Charlie stares at me like I've hurt his feelings, but then he starts to laugh, too, and everything is okay. We're still friends. Just friends. Even though for just one second I felt the tip of his tongue slip between my teeth.

Ellie and Bobbi Jo surround me. "Do you have to pee?" Bobbi Jo whispers, her beer breath in my ear.

We slip away from Charlie and head for the woods. "Bobbi Jo was scared to go by herself," Ellie says.

I don't say it out loud, but the woods are scary even with three of us. Behind us the playground is washed bright with moonlight, but here between the trees, blackness swallows us up.

Suddenly Bobbi Jo grabs my arm. "What was that?"

"What was what?" I whisper.

She looks over her shoulder at the dark trees. "I thought I heard something."

Now I think I hear it too—a snapping branch, a loud rustle in the underbrush. I shiver and tell myself I'm being stupid. What could happen to us in the park?

"I didn't hear anything," Ellie says.

"I thought somebody was following us," Bobbi Jo says, still scared.

Ellie laughs. "To watch us pee?"

Bobbi Jo and I laugh too. But not as loud as Ellie.

We follow her deeper into the woods and squat down in the bushes near the creek. Although I'm careful, I feel warm pee run down my leg and into my shoe. Ellie loses her balance and topples over with a crash. The three of us laugh so hard we all end up on our backs in the leaves. I pray it's not poison ivy. How would I explain an itchy rash all over my rear end?

"Let's wade in the creek," Bobbi Jo says. We take off our shoes and scramble down the bank. The water is knee-deep and cold. We slosh along, splashing each other and laughing.

"Where did Cheryl go?" Bobbi Jo asks.

Ellie giggles. "The woods with Ralph. Where do you think?" She catches my eye. "Don't look so shocked," she says. "I saw you kissing Charlie."

I feel myself blush. "Well, I'm not about to go off in the woods with him."

She laughs and makes kissing noises. "Nora and Charlie sitting in a tree," she chants, " k-i- s- s- i- n- g—"

I give her a push and she sits down in the water. Before I can even say I'm sorry, I slip on the mossy stones and splash down beside her. Bobbi Jo laughs and Ellie grabs her ankle and pulls her down with us. The water runs over our legs and cools us off. The buzzy feel of the beer slides away. In the woods, thousands of fireflies blink their lights like magic.

"I think Cheryl is really in love with Ralph," Bobbi Jo says in a dreamy voice.

"We all thought she was in love with Buddy not so long ago," Ellie reminds her.

"Yes, but he didn't deserve her," Bobbi Jo says. "Ralph's different. He's nice. He'd never hit her."

I sit there quietly watching the fireflies and wishing Don liked me the way Ralph likes Cheryl. Why don't I have long blond hair and breasts big enough to see without a magnifying glass?

"I hope I have a boyfriend like Ralph someday," Bobbi Jo whispers into the dark.

"Don't worry," Ellie says. "As cute as you are, you'll have all the boyfriends you could ever want."

Unlike me, I think, unlike me. I try not to envy Bobbi Jo's pretty face and blond curls. Try not to compare my plain face and wispy brown hair, frizzy in the summer heat. My freckles. The funny bump in my nose. My long skinny arms and legs. Why did Charlie kiss me? Why would any boy want to kiss me?

Tired of my own boring thoughts, I stand up and grab one of the grapevines dangling from the trees. Giving my best Tarzan shout, I swing on it. Bobbi Jo and Ellie scramble to their feet and catch vines of their own. Soon the three of us are swinging back and forth like ten-year-olds, whooping and laughing.

Suddenly Bobbi Jo lets go of her vine and stands still in the middle of the creek. "Shh!' she whispers. "Did you hear that?"

Ellie and I drop down beside her. I hear what Bobbi Jo heard, branches rustling, something moving. No mistaking the sound this time. Slow footsteps are moving toward us. I shiver. Someone's out there in the dark, watching us.

"Who's there?" Ellie croaks.

A stone splashes into the water beside her. Then another and another. They're falling all around us.

We scramble to our feet, slipping and sliding, and cling to each other, terrified. Bobbi Jo murmurs, "Hail Mary, full of grace..."

"Paul, is that you?" Ellie calls. Her voice shakes. We huddle together in the creek.

Bushes rustle. More stones splash into the water. Someone laughs the laugh of the Shadow and intones, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?"

Bobbi Jo starts to cry. "Who is it?" Ellie shouts. "What do you want?"

"The Shadow knows." More laughter. More stones. Branches snapping, leaves stirring.

"This isn't funny!" Ellie yells.

And then they're sliding down the bank, splashing toward us, laughing. Paul first, then Charlie and Walt.

"Don't be mad." Paul puts his arm around Ellie. "Look what we have for you." He presses a bottle of beer into her hand.

Charlie hands me a beer, and Walt offers one to Bobbi Jo.

"You scared us half to death," Bobbi Jo says. She wipes her eyes, brushing away tears.

"Did you think it was the crazy man with the hook?" Charlie twists his body into a menacing shape, his face a lunatic's grimace.

"Or the wild goat man of Baltimore County?" Walt reaches out and grabs Bobbi Jo by the neck.

She pushes him away. "It's not funny!" She sounds like she might cry again.

"Ah, we forgot," Walt says. "Bobbi Jo's just a little girl, scared of the dark." He tries to hug her, but she won't let him near her.

"I'm going home." She throws her beer into the bushes and scrambles out of the creek.

"We'll go with you." Ellie follows her into the woods and I go after them.

Ellie and I drink our beer as we walk. "Chugalug, chugalug," we chant, sashaying back and forth, hips bumping, making Bobbi Jo laugh in spite of herself.

The boys catch up with us. Charlie takes my hand. "Don't be mad, Long Tall Sally," he whispers in my ear, his breath warm and tickly.

"You really scared Bobbi Jo."

"How about you? Did I scare you?"

I shrug and toss my empty beer bottle into the bushes. I was scared, but I don't want to admit it. He'll tease me.

"Elmgrove isn't known for maniacs loose in the woods," he says.

"We're not that far from Spring Grove," I mutter.

The dark trees press in around us. I hear rustling sounds like a person walking carefully, following us, trying not to make any noise.
Snap
goes a twig. I can almost feel someone watching us. Buddy. It must be Buddy looking for Cheryl.

Not quite accidentally, I move closer to Charlie.

He lets go of my hand and slips his arm around me. We walk side by side, his head at my shoulder. Why oh why isn't he taller? Or me shorter? We kiss a few times. It's nice but not like it would be if I loved him.

"What about Cheryl?" Bobbi Jo asks. "Shouldn't we find her and tell her we're leaving?"

Walt shoots a look at Charlie and Paul. They laugh. "I think Cheryl can find her way home without our help."

We stumble across the park, laughing and singing the Eastern High fight song. I throw up in the street and Charlie wipes my face with his T-shirt, which I think is very gallant. He kisses me again even though my breath must stink of beer and vomit.

When the Dawsons' dog starts barking, the boys take off for their houses. "See ya tomorrow," Walt shouts to Bobbi Jo.

"Sleep tight," Charlie hollers. "Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

We wave and watch them disappear around a corner, reeling and holding each other up, pretending to be drunk. I can hear them laughing even when I can't see them. I feel sad all of a sudden, lonely. If only the night could go on and on and never end. If only I was holding Charlie's hand. If only I was kissing him. I think I like him more than I thought.

"Don't forget," Ellie tells Bobbi Jo. "We're leaving for school at eight fifteen. Don't be late!"

"I'll be ready," she says. "I've always wanted to see what Eastern's like inside. No nuns watching you all the time. No priests. I wish my parents would let me go there."

"You won't see much," Ellie says. "All we do is pick up our report cards, hand in our textbooks, pay library fines, that kind of stuff. We'll be out by eleven."

"It's really a waste of time," I say.

"For you, maybe."

Bobbi Jo slips through her front gate. As she opens her front door, I hear her father shout, "Where have you been? Do you know what time it is?" The door slams, but we can still hear him shouting at Bobbi Jo.

"Uh-oh," Ellie whispers. "I hope
my
parents are asleep."

I follow her into the house. The rooms are dark. I hear her father snoring, and I think of my father at my house, snoring beside my sleeping mother, the two of them folded up together in bed, the room dark and still, the house dark and still. My brother asleep or maybe listening to the radio, those late-night stations from far away. Rock-and-roll in New York or Pittsburgh or maybe even Detroit on a clear night. My room lit dimly by moonlight, my bed still made.

For some reason, it scares me to picture my empty room. It's almost like I'm dead and my family is going on without me. I shiver—has someone walked on my grave? What does that expression mean anyway?

"Come
on,
" Ellie urges me. I realize I've stopped halfway up the steps, dreaming in the dark.

We make it to her bedroom without waking anyone. I fall into bed and go to sleep with my fingers pressed against my lips, holding Charlie's kiss there.

E
LLIE'S
alarm clock goes off at seven a.m., but one of us reaches over, turns it off, and falls back asleep. At seven fifty, Ellie's mom wakes us up. "Didn't you hear the alarm?" she asks. "Hurry up, you'll be late!"

We stumble around the bedroom, pulling on crinolines and full skirts, tucking in blouses. buckling cinch belts, searching for socks and our grass-stained Keds. I'm still half asleep, groggy from being up late, drinking beer, and smoking.

For some reason Ellie wants to wear this little pin made of ceramic flowers, but her fingers fumble with the catch. It takes her at least five minutes to get it fastened, partly because her mother keeps calling, "Hurry up, girls, you're going to be late."

We're eating cereal when Cheryl and Bobbi Jo show up.

"You're early," Ellie says. "We're not ready."

"I promised Ralph I'd meet him at school at eight fifteen on the dot," Cheryl says. "Besides, if I leave now, I won't run into Buddy." "Guess what?" Bobbi Jo asks Ellie and me. "Ralph has this friend he wants me to meet." She smoothes her hair. "I'm telling him I'm sixteen."

I almost choke on my cereal. What if it's Don? What if Ralph is fixing her up with Don? I hate Cheryl, who must have set it up, I hate Ralph, I hate Bobbi Jo. It's not fair, it's just not.

"See you later," Ellie says as Bobbi Jo and Cheryl leave. "Don't forget the picnic. You're bringing the rolls and I'm bringing the hot dogs and Bobbi Jo's mom is making potato salad."

"Who's bringing the soda?" Bobbi Jo asks.

"Paul and Charlie," Ellie says. "Walt's bringing cookies or brownies or something."

"If you see Buddy, tell him I hate him," Cheryl calls from the door.

Mrs. O'Brien looks at us. "Did Cheryl break up with Buddy?'

"A long time ago, Ma," Ellie says. "She has a much nicer boyfriend now."

Mrs. O'Brien takes our empty cereal bowls to the sink. "I'm glad to hear it. I never liked that boy. He has a sneaky look. I'm surprised Cheryl's parents didn't send him packing long ago."

"They tried," Ellie says, "but you know how Cheryl is. She kept seeing him anyway. But not anymore. Now she hates him. And he hates her."

Mrs. O'Brien sighs. "What heartless girls you are." She smiles when she says it, so we know she's joking.

By the time Ellie and I are ready, we have five minutes to get to school. We'll never make it on time. But so what? It's the last day. The last two hours of our junior year. A line from an old grade school jingle runs through my mind: No more classes, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks.

As we leave the house, I hear a car backfire somewhere close, a series of bangs loud enough to startle me.

Ellie laughs. "How come you're so jumpy?"

"Not enough sleep," I mutter.

We cut across the baseball field, walking slow. It's too hot to walk any faster. On Eastern Avenue, the morning traffic rumbles past. Horns blow.

"What do you think of Cheryl and Ralph?" Ellie asks. We've entered the woods, taking a well-worn path everyone uses to walk to school. The air smells of dew and damp leaves, and the ground is soft and yielding under our feet.

"They seem to really like each other," I say slowly.

Ellie nods. Birds sing in the green leaves overhead and a breeze stirs the air. The day is supposed to be a replay of yesterday, hot and humid with a chance of thunderstorms in the afternoon, but it's cool in the woods.