The Cheer Leader (9 page)

The things that he talked about didn't really interest me, yet, I was perfectly content to sit and listen, to watch him. He talked about running and how good it was for the respiratory system, how he liked the tired feeling that he got after running or after working a day of construction, how he loved to work on cars but didn't want to be an assistant mechanic all of his life. He wanted to save money, maybe go to school, maybe one day own his own garage and just run things. Then again, he didn't want to rush getting old because he liked living at Moon Lake and there were so many things that he wanted to do; he wanted to spend a full summer hiking on the Appalachian Trail; he wanted to learn how to play an electric guitar because he was really into hard rock. He was a
perfect blend between Bobby and those carefree people at the other end of the lake. I wanted to tell him that I had never been into hard rock and had stopped pretending that I was when I stopped pretending that I liked my red, white and blue pants. I could have said it was just like pocketbooks and sunglasses. I wanted to have both, but for the longest time felt that I was too young and had not earned the right. Tricia and Lisa were very natural pocketbook carriers and sunglass wearers. They could do it so easily. I probably never would have even made the conscious effort to carry a pocketbook except that once a month I had to for personal reasons and if I hadn't carried it all the time, people would have known the personal reason. That's how it was with red, white and blue pants, hard rock, words like
groovy.
I didn't have the right to be a part of that because I was too young, didn't have a cause. I thought that Red possibly did have a cause and I admired that; I envied it.

I wanted to tell Red that I faithfully played all of my Daddy's old albums: Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, Bunny Berigan, and that I always pictured myself in some dim smoky room slowdancing to “Stardust” in one of those nice strapless gowns with a tulle ballerina length skirt. I wanted to tell him that I had always wished that I had belonged to the previous generation where there were rigid rules and convictions, where certain appearances were upheld just like in cheerleading, team sports, the Olympics, National Honor Society. I almost told him all of that but then thought better considering it was our
first meeting. For some reason, I felt like I had known him for a long time, felt that I had staked some sort of claim on him. I didn't even dive. We just sat and Red held my hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth on my knuckles. I swam breaststroke all the way back with my head out of the water and I watched him. I stopped only to blink and the sun was so bright on the water that it almost blinded me and the longer that I looked, the more dark spots I saw all around Red.

I was certain that Red would call me that night; I could just feel it and too, I had received all kinds of hopeful bets and promises from Tricia and Cindy on the way home. “Maybe you and Red can get me a date with Tom,” Tricia said and I loved hearing “you and Red.” Cindy was adamant that yes, he would call. Lisa was the only negative bettor in the group. “Give him time,” she said. “He'll play it cool for awhile. Now, he needs to see you with someone else.”

“Then he'd never ask me out.”

“That's where you're wrong.” Lisa looked at me with her most serious grown up look. “Then he'd want to ask you out even more. I told Ralph to meet us at the lake tomorrow and I'll just call him and get him to bring some of the other guys along.”

“Not Ralph again,” Tricia sighed.

“There's nobody else to date around here,” Lisa said. “He's not so bad.”

“I'll date nobody.” Cindy turned the radio down and faced the backseat where Lisa and I were sitting.

“C'mon, Jo, it's worth a try,” Lisa continued. “You're friends with all the guys and any one of them would love to go out with you.”

“That's what she's afraid of.” Tricia pulled into Hardees which had recently become a part of our going home. “Anybody want anything?”

“I'm on a diet,” Lisa said which made us all laugh. She was always on a diet and never lost any weight. Cindy and Tricia were already out of the car. “Just get me a Coke,” I yelled and then turned to face the road. It seemed that I saw brown Toyotas everywhere I went, and I kept expecting to see Red in one of them. Lisa talked on and on about how to play it right; Tricia talked on and on about how she was going to give up on Tom if something didn't happen soon; Cindy kept talking about what it would be like to be seniors at the high school, people standing while we walked into assemblies, being able to leave the grounds for lunch and so on. All I could talk about was Red, rub my thumb over the back of my hand just like he had done.

Red did not call for a whole week. All of those days, I saw him at the lake and he would speak or even stop by our pier to talk, but he never asked me out. Once, he even grabbed me up and jumped into the water and then just held me there, his hands on my waist. But then he would be gone, off to the other end of the lake or over with the older people where Buffy was a constant attraction. It was the middle of that second week since the day
at the tower, when Pat Reeves showed up at the lake and came over to sit with us. He was talking, mostly to everyone else, about going off to school, and I was watching Red, waiting to catch his eye. Finally, he came over, looked at Pat, back at me and grinned, winked. I could have died. Then, he just stood there, waist deep in the water, and started talking to Pat about running, tennis, Duke. Red even suggested that he and Pat play tennis sometime. “What about tonight?” Red asked and I wished that they would go somewhere else to talk.

“I'm going out tonight,” Pat said and looked at me for the first time. “I came to see if Jo wants to go to the movies.” I could feel my face getting red and I knew that I couldn't look at Lisa, Tricia or Cindy. I couldn't look at anyone except Pat, because it was so unlike him to say something like that in front of other people. “Well, what do you say?” It was like everyone was waiting for my answer.

“Well, Bobby's coming home tonight,” I said.

“So?” Pat asked. “What does that mean?”

“My mother is fixing a special dinner.”

“That makes sense. It will take you at least until eleven o'clock to eat, won't it?”

“It might,” I said and tried to make a joke of it. Pat didn't laugh, Red did, but Pat didn't, and I probably would have felt embarrassed for Pat, probably would have said that I'd go to the movies if Red hadn't been standing there. Besides, Pat never should have done that to me, never should have put me on the spot after all of
those months that he had acted like he could care less about me, had even told me that he might date other people when he went off to school.

“You're going to miss a good one,” Pat said and stood up. Even in shorts and an old faded Izod, he looked like he was all dressed up to go somewhere. “See you around.” He was almost at the end of the pier when he turned back. “Call me sometime about tennis,” he said to Red and then to me, “Tell Bobby hello for me; tell your Mama not to burn the chicken like she did when I came for a special dinner.” Then he was gone.

“You broke his heart,” Red said and pulled himself up on the edge of the pier. “Guess you wouldn't want to go anywhere tomorrow night either.”

“I might,” I said and I braced myself for what was to come. It didn't even bother me that Tricia, Lisa and Cindy were sitting there taking in every word.

“A friend of mine is having a party down here tomorrow night. Sounds like it'll be a good party.” He dipped his finger in the lake and drew a circle on the dry pier. “Want to go?”

“Yes,” I said without even pausing that way that Lisa had always told me to do. “I'd love to.”

“Okay, I'll call you tonight.” He patted me on the head and slid back into the water. “What time's the special dinner so I don't interrupt?”

“Oh anytime is okay.” I sat perfectly still until he was back on the shore and heading up to where he had his car parked. My whole body felt like Jell-O.

“You did it, Jo,” Tricia squealed and grabbed my hand. “You have a real date with Red Williams!”

“Boy did you ever screw up,” Lisa said and shook her head.

“No she didn't,” Cindy said with this admonishing tone that I had never heard her use before. “She got just what she's been wanting.”

“What are you going to wear?” Tricia asked. “Tom might be at that party. If he is, you have to tell me everything that he does, every person that he talks to, okay?”

I nodded and then turned to Lisa. “Aren't you just a little bit happy for me?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, “it's just that I feel so sorry for Pat Reeves, I mean how embarrassing.”

“Make up your mind, Lisa,” Tricia said. “The whole time she's dated Pat all you've ever done is call him a queer.”

“But he's a good-looking queer,” she said. “Why didn't you ever tell me what a good-looking queer he is.”

I did not even say my usual, “He's not a queer. He's a nice guy.” I didn't care anything about any of that. All I could think about was Red. I had a date with Red.

My mother thought that Red was too old for me. “And especially being down at that lake at night,” she kept saying. But as he had often done, Bobby stepped in and helped me out.

“Red's okay,” Bobby said. “It's just a date. It's not like she's going to marry him.” Bobby carried a lot of weight
that night all dressed up in his khakis and pink button-down shirt, Phi Beta Kappa bound for Bowman Gray. “I know all the people that hang out at the lake. I might just go myself.”

“I wish you would,” Mama said and went back to the kitchen where she was frying chicken (Pat Reeves had been right) leaving us in the den where
Andy Griffith
was on T.V. That was my favorite show and I was so nervous that I couldn't even watch. “Thanks Bobby,” I said. “She's got to let me go.”

“I might go,” Bobby said again and I could tell that he really wasn't doing it for me. He was thinking of Nancy Carson, I knew, and even though I did not think that she was worth his time, I was glad that he was thinking about her. “Thanks for trying to help me, Bobby, but you know Nancy might be there.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She's always at the lake. Every single day she's there.”

“Jo could just ride with you, Bobby,” Mama yelled over the splattering grease. “It would save Claude a trip.” It made me cringe to hear her call him Claude and I would've said something but I was afraid of pushing my luck. “And Y'all could ride home together, too.”

“Who's she usually with?” Bobby asked, lowering his voice.

“Girls.” I was getting to him.

“What time does Jo have to be in?” he yelled. He was now walking around the room, his hands deep in his pockets.

“Between eleven and eleven-thirty.” Mama came back into the den.

“Eleven? The party won't even get going until eight. In Winston-Salem I don't even go out until eleven.” Bobby raised his voice but still managed to keep his All American appeal.

“Just this once,” I said. “Please!”

“Aren't any of your friends going?” she asked.

“They weren't invited or they would be.”

“I don't like the idea of you being on that road that late at night. There's not a thing between here and the lake.”

“Hardees,” I said to which my mother put her hands on her hips and stared towards the kitchen where there was still the splatter of chicken frying.

“I know,” Bobby said and walked over to the phone. “We'll just stay at Bruce Pittman's place for the night and come back early Sunday morning.”

“Not Jo!” Mama said. “Besides, we won't see you at all.”

“Yes you will.” Bobby was dialing the number. “We'll be home in time for church.” He winked at Mama and she just shook her head. He could get away with anything. It was just fine with Bruce and his sister Sally and finally, since “Bruce's parents are nice,” and “his sister Sally is a ‘nice girl' and just finished college at Meredith,” Mama said “yes” with the agreement that I would be at the Pittmans' and Red would be gone no later than eleven-thirty. Bobby told her that he would see to that. It never even crossed Mama's mind to tell me to make sure
that Bobby was by himself, without Nancy Carson, at a particular curfew time, and that was a bone that I would have liked to pick. However, I was not in any position to take any chances. When Red called, I could barely hear him because there was loud music and voices in the background. I told him that I was riding with Bobby and that we were going to spend the night at the Pittmans'. “That's fine,” he yelled. “See you then.” And it was fine; everything, including the charred chicken and the thunderstorm that lit up my room throughout the night, was just fine.

After much deliberation, and with Tricia and Cindy as my advisors (Lisa had plans to go with Ralph to Fat Mama's who was a bootlegger in the black section of town), I finally decided to wear a pink cotton sundress that had a ruffle across the top.

“Are you sure this isn't too dressed up?” I asked.

“You know how Buffy always looks.” Tricia was flipping through the clothes in my closet. “That is perfect. Pull it down on your shoulders,” she said and came over and tugged the flounce down.

“You look fine,” Cindy added.

“I wish Y'all were going. I'm not going to know anybody.”

“Yes you will,” Tricia said. “Besides, all you need to know is Red and remember.”

“Watch out for Tom,” I finished and she nodded. “I'll call you as soon as I get home.”

“Lisa said that she and Ralph may go down there,” Cindy added and laughed. I hoped not. Lisa talked enough when she was sober.

“Not if they've already gone to Fat Mama's,” Tricia said and it made me cringe. I didn't want to hear about it, didn't want to picture a drunken Lisa and Ralph. Everyone, even Cindy, had been to Fat Mama's, except me.