Starring Sally J. Freedman as Herself (14 page)

Dear Doey-bird
,

One. He was in sixth grade. And you forgot to tell me if people with dark skin have different germs in their mouths. And can they give trench mouth to
white people? I have decided that if I ever have a daughter I will name her Precious. Don’t you think that’s a beautiful name? I wish it could be my name even though Precious Redwine sounds a lot better than Precious Freedman …

Dear Sally
,

Trench mouth has nothing to do with the color of your skin. Anyone can get it. As for germs in people’s mouths, we are all the same …

Dear Doey-bird
,

Then why does the Five and Dime have two fountains and why do
they
drink only from theirs and
we
drink only from ours? And you didn’t tell me what you think about my favorite name …

Dear Sally
,

Your questions are
very
hard to answer. At the moment it is simply the way things are. I doubt that they will remain that way forever, but for now, you have to abide by the rules. I’m glad that you’re questioning those rules though. Yes, I think Precious is a lovely name and that is exactly what you are, even though we call you Sally …

Sally, Shelby and Andrea were walking home from school. Sally was careful not to step on any cracks in the sidewalk. Shelby went out of her way to step on
every
one. When they reached the corner Shelby said, “Bye … see you tomorrow … I’ve got to go to the dentist this afternoon.” She went up the walk to her house.

As soon as she was gone Andrea said, “Can you keep a secret, Sally?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course!” Sally said.

Andrea stood still and faced Sally. “Okay … I’ve decided to tell you and
only
you because you came up with the idea for Omar’s collar … but if anybody ever finds out …”

“I can keep a secret!” Sally insisted.

“Okay.” Andrea took a big breath. “I’m in love.”

“You are?”

Andrea started walking again. “Yes … hopelessly.”

“Is that good or bad?” Sally had to hurry to keep up with her, skipping over every line in the pavement.

“It all depends,” Andrea said.

“On what?”

Andrea shrugged, as if she wasn’t sure herself.

“Who is he?” Sally asked.

“He’s called Georgia Blue Eyes … he’s new … he’s in Mrs. Wingate’s portable.”

“Oh … that’s right next to Shelby’s … maybe she knows him …”

“This is a secret, remember?”

“Don’t worry … I won’t give you away,” Sally said. “What’s his real name?”

“I don’t know … but he’s from Georgia and he has the most beautiful blue eyes you ever saw.”

“Nicer than Omar’s?”

“Omar is a cat.” Andrea said this as if Sally didn’t already know.

“I thought you liked Latin lovers best … with dark and flashing eyes.”

“I do, sometimes,” Andrea said quietly, and then she became annoyed. “Will you stop jumping like that … you look like a kangaroo.”

“I don’t want to step on any cracks.”

“Don’t tell me you believe that garbage about your mother’s back … that’s the silliest superstition.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“Then stop jumping!”

“I like to jump.”

“Sometimes you act younger than a fifth grader … you know that … and I
was
going to ask you to come to the park with me this afternoon … but now I’m not so sure …”

“And sometimes I act older … you said so yourself.” Sally waited for Andrea to agree with her. When she didn’t, Sally asked, “So what’s at the park today?”

“Georgia Blue Eyes … I heard he’s playing ball there this afternoon.”

“Oh,” Sally said and she stopped jumping.

“Can I go to the park with Andrea?” Sally asked her mother. “Please … I’ll be very careful.”

“Walking or on bicycles?” Mom asked.

“Bicycles … but I’ll watch out for cars … I promise … please …”

“All right,” Mom said. “But be back by five … that means you have to leave the park no later than quarter to …”

“Okay …”

She and Andrea rode their bicycles to Flamingo Park. When they got to a field where a bunch of boys were playing ball Andrea’s face flushed and she said, “There he is!”

“Which one?” Sally asked.

“On first base … isn’t he the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know? Look at that hair … oh, I’d love to run my fingers through it.”

“He might have nits.”

“Are you crazy?” Andrea asked.

“Some people do, you know.”

“Not
nice
people.”

“Even them …” Sally said.

“Never! Nits are what dirty disgusting people get from not shampooing and Georgia Blue Eyes isn’t dirty
or
disgusting!”

“Maybe …” Sally paused for a minute, not wanting to go deeper into that subject. “So, you want to ride around or just sit here and watch?” she asked Andrea.

“Hmm … I guess we should ride around for a while. We can circle the field … that way he might notice me.”

They rode around three times but if Georgia Blue Eyes noticed Andrea he kept it to himself. Then Andrea decided they should ride around the rest of the park and come back to the field later, when Georgia Blue Eyes wasn’t quite so busy.

They rode past the tennis courts, past the food stand and through the wooded area. Mr. Zavodsky
was there, sitting on a bench, reading
The Forward
. Andrea called, “Yoo hoo … Mr. Zavodsky …” and when he looked up she waved.

Sally caught Andrea’s arm and held it down. “Cut that out!” Andrea said, shaking Sally off. “Got any candy today?” Andrea called to Mr. Zavodsky.

“For you … always …” He beckoned to her.

“Don’t go,” Sally said, under her breath.

“Why not?” Andrea asked.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Why?”

“He offers us candy and we’re … practically strangers …”

“We are not … he knows us.”

“He doesn’t know
me
at all!”

“Oh, Sally … quit being such a jerk!” Andrea got off her bicycle, kicked down the stand and ran across the grass.

You monster!
Sally thought.
Reading
The Forward,
a Yiddish newspaper … pretending to be Jewish … and after you’ve made lampshades out of Jews’ skin! I hate you
 … 
I hate you … you think you’re so smart, coming to Miami Beach to retire, like everybody else
 … 
I’ll bet you think this is a great hiding place … well, you’re wrong …

Andrea came back with a handful of rock candy. “Want some?” she asked Sally.

“No!” Sally said and rode off.

Andrea caught up with her. “What’s wrong with you this time?”

Sally didn’t answer. She just kept pedalling.

“Are you sick or something … you look funny …”

“I … I …”

“Do you have to throw up? Because if you do I’m getting out of the way … I can’t stand it when somebody throws up …”

“I’m not going to throw up!” Sally said.

“Then what?”

“I just got hot … that’s all …” She mopped her forehead with the tails of her shirt.

“Well, don’t fall off your bike,” Andrea said. “You’re riding so wobbly.”

“I won’t.”

“Have a piece of candy … it’ll make you feel better.”

“No! I already told you I wouldn’t eat his candy … it could be poison,”

“Are you crazy?” Andrea said.

“No, I’m careful … and you should be too … I’ve never seen
him
eat his candy, have you?”

“How can he … he’s got false teeth!” She crunched another piece of rock candy.

“You’re going to ruin
your
teeth and wind up with false ones too!”

“Since when are you my mother?” Andrea asked.

The next morning, at breakfast, Sally said, “Whatever happened to Hitler?”

“Nobody’s sure,” Douglas answered, his mouth full of cereal. “Some people say he killed himself and others say he escaped to South America.”

“What do you think?” Sally asked Mom.

“I think he’s dead.”

“He should be,” Ma Fanny said. “If anybody deserves to be dead it’s him.”

“I think he got away,” Douglas said. “I’ll bet he’s in Argentina right now …”

“Or he could be here, in Miami Beach,” Sally said. “I’ll bet you never thought of that.”

Douglas coughed some cereal out of his mouth. “Boy, are you a card.”

“What an idea,” Mom said. “Hitler in Miami Beach …”

“God forbid,” Ma Fanny added.

Dance ballerina, dance
 … Sally sang softly. She twirled around and around in her black inner tube, her head back, her eyes closed. The ocean was calm and blue and the sun, hot on her face. Earlier, she had talked to Daddy on the phone. He had wished her a happy Hanukkah and said he’d be down to visit in just two more weeks. She wished he could be there tonight, to light the first candle on the menorah. It was hard to believe that Hanukkah was beginning. Usually the weather was very cold for her favorite holiday. Sometimes it even snowed. She laughed out loud at the idea of celebrating Hanukkah in the middle of summer, then opened her eyes to make sure no one had heard. It was okay. There was no one near enough to have noticed.

Dance ballerina, dance
 … what a good song! No wonder it was number one on the hit parade. After Christmas vacation she and Andrea were going to take ballet lessons. Their mothers had already
signed them up at Miss Beverly’s School of Classic Ballet. Sally could hardly wait. Her hands skimmed the water, keeping time to her music. She hoped that at Miss Beverly’s ballet school she’d get to wear a tutu instead of an exercise dress. She pictured herself in pink net with pink satin toe slippers to match, like Margaret O’Brien in
The Unfinished Dance
, the best movie Sally had ever seen. Mom bought her the coloring book and the paper doll set because she’d enjoyed the film so much.

Some people, like Mrs. Daniels, from next door, thought fifth graders were too old for that stuff. Sally heard her say so to Mom. “When my Bubbles was that age she was sewing her own clothes and reading fine literature from the library.” What Mrs. Daniels didn’t know was that you could play with paper dolls like a baby or you could play with them in a very grown-up way, making up stories inside your head. Like
Margaret O’Brien meets Mr. Zavodsky
 … This takes place before she becomes a famous movie star. She’s just a regular kid, like Sally. Margaret finds out Mr. Zavodsky is Adolf Hitler in disguise and reports him to the police. They capture Mr. Zavodsky and award the Medal of Honor to Margaret O’Brien. At the medal ceremony a well-known Hollywood producer says,
We’re looking for a girl just like you to play the lead in a new movie. How are you at ballet? Well, sir
 … Margaret answers,
I’m in the Junior Advanced class and I hope to be in Advanced next year at the latest
. She then performs for him and gets the part.

It bothered Sally that Mom had said to Mrs. Daniels, “Each child matures at her own rate.” But Mom didn’t know about Sally’s stories so maybe she thought Sally played like a baby too.

Suddenly Sally felt a sharp, stinging pain on her leg. She cried out and reached down. Something was there. Something was on her leg. She tried to pull it off but the same pain hit her hand and wrist. “Stop …” she cried, “stop it … stop it …” She began to kick and scream as the painful sting spread. She thrashed about but she couldn’t get it off her. She couldn’t stop the stinging pain. “Help …” she called. “Please … somebody help me …”

It seemed like hours before the lifeguard reached her. He lifted her out of the tube, trying to hold her still, but the pain made her squirm and cry even though she knew it was important to be quiet during a rescue. She moaned and closed her eyes.

“You’ll be okay now …” the lifeguard said. He sounded very far away. Sally wondered why. And then, everything went black.

When she opened her eyes again she was on the beach, wrapped in a blanket, and Mom was at her side. She could hear Ma Fanny and Douglas talking
to her, but she couldn’t turn her head to see them. A crowd had gathered around her. “Oh, my baby … my poor little girl …” Mom cried.