The Wish (3 page)

Chapter Five

A
fter I hung
up, I went on petting Reggie. The sleepover would be incredible. I'd have fun. I'd be on the inside for a change. Anything could happen.

The phone rang again. It was Jared Fein. One-eyebrow Jared.

“I only have a minute,” I said. “I have to walk my dog.” A lie. Maud did the afternoon walk.

Silence on the line.

“Look, I have to go,” I said.

“Wait. Uh, I wrote the note about going to the zoo.”

Just my luck.

“Wilma? Are you there?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to go?”

Not with him. “I can't.” Why not? I had to say a reason. “I have to study for the language arts final.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. Which was nice. “What are you working on?”

“Hamlet.”
I imitated Ms. Hannah's deep, overdramatic voice. “‘By the bard.'”

“I like
Hamlet
. ‘This above all—to thine own self be true. . . .' What if we study together at the zoo?”

I was trapped. It was too late to say I was having brain surgery to make me think up better excuses.

“Okay,” I said. Anyway, it would be my first date. That was something. “I'll come. I love the zoo.”

After I hung up, Maud came out of our room, holding a notebook.

We share a bedroom. She complains that it's not fair for a person of her maturity, which she says is far beyond mine, to have to room with a child veterinarian. I point out that it's not fair to me either. If I had my own room, I'd have more than just a dog. I'd have hamsters and a rabbit. For starters. Mom says life isn't fair, and if she ever gets rich, she'll buy a mansion with a wing for each of us.

“Are you okay? Did something bad happen today?” Maud actually sounded pleasant. Was I popular with her now too?

“I'm all right. Why?”

“You're sure? The phone hasn't stopped ringing since I got back from walking the dog.” She always called Reggie “the dog.” “All these kids phoned.” She tore the back page out of her notebook. “There were more, but they didn't leave their names.”

I took the page. Kids I'd never talked to had called me. “I'm fine. Really.”

“Oh. Good. Then I'm telling Mom that I'm not your answering service. I have a pa—”

The phone rang. I answered it, and Maud went back into our room and slammed the door.

It was Ardis. “BeeBee says you're coming Friday. That's great.”

“I can't wait.”

Silence. If she had nothing to say, she said nothing.

But I wanted to keep the conversation going. “Um,” I said. I didn't want to talk about my subway ride home with Suzanne, and going to the zoo with Jared was nothing to boast about. “Are you studying?”

“Yeah. I have a Russian test tomorrow.”

Suzanne had to be wrong. They didn't let you take Russian unless your grades were good.

“Can you read the alphabet?”

“Cyrillic? Sure. It's not as bad as Chinese.”

“Are you studying Chinese?” They didn't give it at Claverford.

“No. Someday maybe.”

“Oh. I'm taking French.”

“Ooh la la.”

“Ms. Osnoe says that all the time. She says . . .”

We were talking about teachers again, but I couldn't think of another topic.

After we hung up, there were six more calls before Mom got home. Except for a telemarketer, they were all for me. One was from Carlos.

“You looked good today,” he said.

“Thanks. You looked handsome.” Did I really say that?

“Uhhhh. Uhhh. Thanks. Uhhh. Do you want to hang out together after school tomorrow?”

“What about BeeBee?”

“What about her?”

I had just accepted an invitation to BeeBee's sleepover. I couldn't take her boyfriend away from her. Even though I
could
. But maybe that wasn't what he had in mind.

“Will she be there?”

“I doubt it.”

“I can't make it. I have to go home.”

“That's cool,” he said. “Well, 'bye.”

Reggie rushed to the door, wagging his tail wildly. It had to be Mom. Then I heard her key in the lock.

We always ate right after Mom came home. She was the dietitian at a school for developmentally disabled children. Most nights she brought our dinner home with her, whatever the residents had eaten. It was a perk. We'd never starve, even though she didn't make much money and Dad didn't have much to send either.

As I was putting our plates on the table, the phone rang again. Maud, who was waiting for food to be dropped in front of her, told Mom it was for me.

“How do you know . . .” Mom answered it. “I'm sorry. You'll have to call Wilma back. We're having dinner.”

As soon as she hung up, the phone rang again. Mom looked at me. Before today, almost nobody had called me for nine long months.

“This has been going on all afternoon,” Maud said.

“What's up, Wilma?” Mom asked after she turned off the phone without answering it.

I shrugged, but she just waited.

“Well . . .” What could I say? “Um . . . one of the most popular girls decided she likes me, and now everybody does. I guess I'm a fad.”

“Eighth grade!” Maud snorted. “I'd die if I had to do it over.”

 

The next morning everybody was glad to see me again. When I got on my train, two Claverford kids were already there, and they called me over. When we got out of the subway, more and more kids kept joining us, all of them maneuvering to be close to me.

If you did this, old lady, thank you. Thank you.

On the way to school, during school, and after school, kids kept asking me about Reggie. I guess the only thing they knew about me was that I had a dog. Camilla wanted to know his age. Erica asked if he could do tricks. Daphne showed me a picture of her sheepdog.

Evadney was the first to go beyond animals. She asked if I had any brothers or sisters. Soon they'd be asking about my choice of shampoo and whether my favorite snack was pretzels or popcorn.

 

After school on Friday I had to go home and walk Reggie, since Maud would do the morning walk for me on Saturday while I was at BeeBee's.

All I could think about while I walked him was the sleepover. I would get to know Ardis and BeeBee and Nina better, especially Ardis. I'd try to figure out what made them popular. Then, if the spell ended, I'd know how to act to keep having my wish.

But what if it ended while I was there? What if we were all sitting around talking and it ended, and they went back to seeing me as the old me? But I
was
the old me; I hadn't changed. They were the ones who were different.

I tried to remember my exact conversation with the old lady. I remembered that she had offered to make me part of the in crowd. And I had said I wanted to be the most popular kid at Claverford. Then she had said something else. What was it? She asked if it was wise. What could she have meant by that? Where else would I want to be popular but at school?

After Reggie's walk, I checked myself in the mirror. I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt with an Airedale's face printed on it. I got my backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and went back to the mirror. I looked cool.

As I was leaving, Reggie bounded to the door, ready for another walk. I knelt and held his head in my hands. “I'll miss you, Reggie-weggie.” I stroked his ears, and he licked my chin. “I have to go, boy.”

He caught on that I was going without him, and his tail went down to its position of absolute misery.

“Don't you want me to have human friends too?” I went to the biscuit stash in the cabinet under the sink. A consolation prize for him.

He wouldn't take it. His eyes said, “Biscuits are nothing compared to the pleasure of your company.”

“It's just one night,” I pleaded.

Reggie's eyes answered, “How do I know you will come back?”

I was getting exasperated. “I go to school every day.”

“I'm used to that,” his eyes said. “But this is desertion, abandonment.”

What if I took him with me? He'd be something to talk about. I knew I should check first, but then I decided to take a chance. As long as the spell held, they couldn't hate me for it. Mom wasn't home yet, so I yelled to Maud that I was leaving. She came out of her room.

“I'm not taking phone messages for you,” she said. “I'm not a secretary.”

“Just tell my fans that Reggie and I are on safari, and we—”

“You're taking Reggie to a sleepover? Bad move.”

Not for me. I was popular!

Chapter Six

I
f I hadn't
had Reggie, I would have taken the bus to BeeBee's. This way, it was a long walk. But when we arrived, I was glad he was there. BeeBee was a Wallet, and I would have felt uncomfortable walking up to her doorman without purebred Reggie at the end of a leash.

Her apartment was on the top floor, the thirty-fourth. I made Reggie sit while I rang the bell.

The three of them—Ardis, Nina, and BeeBee—answered the door. I was wearing the wrong clothes. They were in shorts and cotton shirts. Worse, BeeBee and Nina looked like they'd never seen a dog before. Ardis's head was down, so I couldn't see her face. It was the end of my popularity. I'd blown it with Reggie.

But then BeeBee squatted in front of him. “What a sweet baby. What a good boy. I love you too.” She scratched under Reggie's chin and behind his ears. He tried to lick her face, and his tail wagged frantically.

“This may be the first time a dog came to a sleepover,” Nina said.

“Hear that, Reggie? You're making history.” I grinned at Nina.

She didn't smile back. “It's pretty weird, Wilma. Five points off for strange behavior.”

Had the spell ended?

BeeBee said, “That's Nina's way of saying she's glad you're here.”

“Is it okay, BeeBee?” I asked. “Do you mind, Nina? Ardis?”

Ardis wasn't there. She must have gone back into the apartment.

“My brother's allergic to dogs,” BeeBee said. “Of course, he won't be in the room with us . . .”

“Should I take him home?”

“Would you come back?”

This was great! “Sure I'd come back. It's just that Reggie didn't want me to leave before.”

“Oh . . . let's try it. Mom can't kill me. Right? Besides, nobody has to know.”

How could they not know? Our apartment was so small you couldn't bring in a caterpillar undetected.

She went on. “Dad said we could sleep upstairs in his studio. Hold the pooch.” She led me in.

I stepped into a small circular vestibule with doors to the left and right and a spiral staircase straight ahead. Reggie's toenails sounded like a hailstorm as he rushed across.

There was no door at the top of the stairs, just space—a loft as big and almost as tall as the auditorium at school, with floor-to-ceiling windows all the way around.

I let go of Reggie. We were in a forest of sculptures. They were elongated stick figures made of metal. The arms and legs were long cylinders. The heads were ovals with triangles for noses. The figures were about sixteen feet tall, and they were in athletic poses—stretching, bending, standing on one foot with the other leg high in the air.

“Your dad is a sculptor,” I said idiotically.

“He says he was Degas in a previous life.”

“BeeBee paints,” Nina said. “She's very talented.”

“I'm a colorist,” BeeBee said, “and I use a lot of impasto.”

Whatever that was. I nodded enthusiastically.

“Show her—”

“Wiiilmaaa!”

It was a strangled scream, coming from the other end of the room. Ardis was pressed into a corner, hands over her head, while Reggie wagged his tail and sniffed her crotch.

“Get it away from me. Hurry, before I—”

“Come, Reggie.” He came. “What a good boy! What a good doggie!” I scratched his back. “You train a dog by telling him he's a hero when he does something right. They like praise better than dog biscuits.”

“So do I,” Nina said.

BeeBee and I laughed.

“I can't stay,” Ardis said, walking toward us. “I just remembered. My sister's in a play at her school, and I promised to go.”

“You're afraid of dogs.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I knew I shouldn't have said them.

“You don't know me,” Ardis said, mad. “You have no idea what I'm afraid of and what I'm not afraid of.” Then she calmed down and sort of smiled. “And I'm really afraid of what Shanara will do to me if I miss her play.”

She was leaving because of Reggie, and she was the main reason I wanted to come in the first place.

“Can't you call her?” BeeBee said. “You could say I'm going through an emo—”

“Reggie won't—Reggie?” I said. I looked around for him.

There he was, halfway across the room, sniffing around the statues. He was especially interested in one.

“No, Reggie! No!”

I was too late. He had lifted his leg on one of the stretching figures. Pee was running down the metal.

Chapter Seven

“B
ad Reggie! Bad
boy! He never goes indoors. I'll clean it up. I'm sorry.” What would happen now? Would they throw me out? Would they hate me?

“Dad'll kill me! The patina on the metal is real important to him.”

“I'll clean it up.”

“We'll clean it up,” Nina said. “I think you should take Reggie home right now, Wilma.”

“She's right,” BeeBee said.

They were throwing me out. I put on Reggie's leash and started down the stairs. Why did I have to bring him? Why did I have to push my popularity?

“Hurry back,” Ardis called.

“Right!” BeeBee added. “We're going to eat soon.”

They wanted me to come back! And Ardis would still be here! I was invincible!

After I dropped Reggie off and ignored Maud's “I told you so,” I waited on Sixty-fifth Street for the bus. While I stood there, Daphne rounded the corner. I looked the other way, but she saw me.

“Hi,” she said.

I may have been unpopular this year, but Daphne may never have had a friend in her life. She was as pale and limp as cooked spaghetti, with a voice to match.

“You're waiting for the bus?” she asked.

I nodded. I wished it would come.

“That was dumb of me,” she said. “What else could you be doing?”

I didn't say anything.

“You think I'm an idiot,” she said.

Maybe. “No. I could be standing here for lots of reasons.”

“Where are you going?”

The bus was half a block away. I didn't want her to feel bad because nobody had invited her to a sleepover. “Uhh . . .” There was an eyeglass store on the corner. “To the eye doctor.” The bus pulled up. “See you.”

She waved.

On the bus I decided there had been no reason for me to protect Daphne's feelings. Plenty of kids went to sleepovers. It was a fact of life. A fact of my life now. I had to toughen up.

 

When I got back to BeeBee's, it was seven thirty and Ardis was still there. Everybody was sitting on the floor, leaning against rolled-up sleeping bags and eating Chinese takeout.

The first thing I did was look at the spot where Reggie had peed. I couldn't tell. There was no stain, no holes in the metal. “It doesn't show,” I said.

“It better not,” Ardis said. “After all we did.”

BeeBee nodded. “We used soap and detergent and disinfectant—everything except toothpaste. Then Nina did a curing spell, and we all felt better.”

I guess I looked confused, because Nina said, “I'm very New Age. Points off for being out of it, Wilma.”

I nodded like I understood.

“The chicken with cashews is good,” Ardis said.

“Try the Szechuan shrimp,” Nina said, pointing at the container with her chopsticks. “I like to chew on the red peppers and watch flames shoot out of my nose.”

I sat between BeeBee and Ardis. Whenever I tried to use chopsticks, I wound up with food in my lap, so I took one of the plastic forks from the restaurant. But I felt uncomfortable eating differently from everyone else.

“Forks are much easier,” Ardis said. “I don't know why we bother with chopsticks.” She reached for a fork.

I smiled at her. Ardis made you feel comfortable. Maybe that was her secret.

Then I had an amazing thought—did she switch so she could eat the way I did?

“We use chopsticks for the authentic Chinese experience,” Nina said. “On a floor in a sculpture studio in Manhattan.” She took a fork too. I couldn't believe it.

Downstairs, high heels clicked across the vestibule. A woman's voice rose from the stairwell. “I'm coming up.”

BeeBee, Nina, and Ardis mouthed Mrs. Molzen's next words while she said them.

“Hide the contraband, girls. Here comes the fuzz.”

“Hi, Mrs. Molzen,” Ardis said.

“Greetings, Ardis, Nina.” She stopped when she came to me.

“Mom, this is Wilma Sturtz.”

I put my plate on the floor and stood up. “Hello, Mrs. Molzen.”

She surveyed me. “Polite. The last time somebody stood—”

“Mom . . .” BeeBee said warningly.

“All right. No old-fogey talk. I just came up to see if you girls are having fun. Bernice Beryl, be sure to bring down the leftovers and the trash.”

Bernice Beryl was BeeBee's real name? Astounding.

“Right, Mom.”

Mrs. Molzen clattered back downstairs.

“Now you know the truth about me,” BeeBee said. “My true name and my embarrassment of a mother.”

“You should see my mother,” I said. Then I felt disloyal. There was nothing wrong with Mom, except that she only let me have one dog and she made me share a room with Maud. “Your mom is fine,” I added. “And so is mine.”

“Do we have to talk about parents?” Nina said.

“What do you want to talk about?” Ardis asked.

“I don't know.” Nina didn't say anything for a minute, and then she started listing other things she didn't want to talk about, like school, boys, and clothes.

Ardis giggled. “And let's not talk about presidential politics either.”

I said, “Or least favorite vegetables.”

They thought that was hysterical, and everybody started laughing, and I felt so great I could have floated up to the ceiling. Then we all started naming stupid topics, like shoe sizes and eyeglass prescriptions and names of insects. After that finally ran out, we were all quiet, in a good way, a wonderful way.

Finally Ardis said, “Turn out the lights, BeeBee. Show Wilma.”

“Wait till you see.” BeeBee walked to the hallway at the end of the loft.

She turned off the lights, and the room went dark. And New York City came inside with us. To the east and south, the buildings zoomed up, darker than the night sky but pricked by thousands of lighted windows.

“The spire of the Empire State Building looks like a needle,” I said, “about to inject something into the sky.”

“How poetic,” Nina said.

“Nina!” Ardis scolded. “Cut it out.”

“Sorry. I need a tongue extraction sometimes.”

The view to the north was quieter. The buildings were lower, so I saw more sky and even a star. The west windows overlooked Central Park. The sky was faintly pink at the horizon from the sunset. Above the pink was a clear and pure royal blue. The park itself was dark, except for streetlights and car headlights, which streamed like platelets through the park's veins and arteries.

“It's incredible,” I said.

“Watch,” BeeBee called. She turned on a single row of lights.

Now the skyline was inside with us. BeeBee's father's sculptures were like buildings, throwing long shadows across the floor.

“I hate this part,” Ardis said. “I always think they'll come to life.”

“And hack our bodies to shreds,” Nina said in a sharp, rough voice. “And toss the pieces to the carrion birds hovering outside the windows—waiting, always waiting for their meal.”

I grinned and leaned back against a sleeping bag. I had missed this so much—being with other kids, joking around, teasing. I hadn't realized how much I missed it till now.