He looked at Augustus.
"He lied," Augustus said nonchalantly. "Randy?"
"I... gotta.... go."
"Don't worry about it." Augustus said. "We all don't have that much worthwhile to say to each other anyway."
"Stop it. Augustus."
"We'll all be communicating through computers soon. The phone will become an antique," Augustus continued.
"I'm... I'm on a com..."
"Computer? Me. too. I'm sending e-mail to God and getting back 'No longer at that address.' Let me know if you find him," Augustus said, and looked at me. "I forgot the movie." He turned and walked off.
"Don't listen to anything he says. He's brilliant but crazy," I told
Randy.
"No... he... he's not." Randy said. "He's right about my... my par... parents. Good night" He turned to leave, his head lowered.
"Randy!" I called, and he stopped. I walked up to him. "Thanks for a nice evening." I said, and kissed him on the cheek.
He smiled and brought his hand to the spot as if my lips were still there. He walked off, his head high again.
Behind me. Augustus walked toward home. too.
Who was more unhappy. I wondered, Augustus. Randy, or me?
Maybe the secret was simply to keep moving, keep busy, don't think about it It was only when we stopped and realized where we were that we felt any loneliness.
8
Counteroffensive
.
I saw Randy twice more before the summer
ended and school began, once for a picnic at the park and once to go to a movie. I did a great deal of reading. catching up on any and all books Randy told me he had been assigned in his previous classes. As it was with most of the school changes. I had read most of the works my new teachers required or used in class, but there were also many differences.
Mommy began to enjoy the work at the restaurant and, because of her looks and warm personality. I think, was soon one of the highesttipped waitresses or waiters there. Ironically Phoebe had made a good prediction. Eventually I did go to work at the restaurant. I assisted Dallas with the hostess responsibilities on weekends. and I was impressed with how quickly Mommy picked up on everything. When I remarked about it, she revealed far the first time that she had been a waitress often before and that was how she first met my father.
"It was always a good way to improve my income," she told me.
I could see that many of the men who came in flirted with her, even when they were with their wives or girlfriends. One night I overheard Dallas say. "Too bad you have a teenage daughter. You could pass for late twenties. and there are plenty of wealthy young bachelors to hunt in Palm Beach."
I hadn't considered that. Was I now a burden for my mother? Mommy never did anything to make me feel I was any sort of burden to her. and I couldn't imagine her hunting for a wealthy bachelor anyway. Sometimes I wished I had been in the helicopter with Daddy. I'd rather be wherever he was. At least working at the restaurant kept my mind occupied.
Phoebe, on the other hand, was unwilling to do anything that even appeared to be work at the inn. despite the fact that her father owned it. If anyone had the attitude that everything was coming to her it was Phoebe. I saw her occasionally when she stopped by to get her father to give her some money. She got him to buy her a car before the summer ended. too. She was just as happy avoiding me as I was avoiding her, and when Mommy asked about it I reminded her that Phoebe didn't want to spend time with someone younger. It was mostly true anyway.
I was more nervous about the start of this particular school year than any other I could remember. no matter how young I had been or how abruptly we had been withdrawn from one community and deposited in another. This time I was, after all, attending school as what Mommy described as a civilian. I didn't have that cadre of built-in children of military personnel there to make a transition easier.
Maybe it was my imagination. but when I attended schools where other children of military personnel attended I could easily see who they were, and we were quickly drawn to each other. I liked to think we were better behaved. We dressed a little more formally and peppered our conversations with "please" and "thank you" and always referred to our teachers with a higher deuce of respect, even if we all agreed that a teacher wasn't very good or nice. It wasn't that none of us ever got into trouble. It was simply not as frequent and usually nowhere nearly as serious as with most of the other students we
There was no other student like me in my Florida school in that respect. and I did have this strange sense of loneliness, despite Randy's great effort to help me feel at home. Every time another student or a teacher centered his or her attention on me. I wondered if he or she saw something very different in me as Randy proved to be a great help, however. He came over to visit the day before school began and tried to ease my anxiety by describing everything from the quirks of some of the teachers to the worst table in the school cafeteria, worst because the sun was always beating down on it through the unshaded portion of window. He was that detailed. Mommy was terribly amused by Randy and called him a "little darlin'." She said it only once in his presence. and I saw him wince. He didn't mind being called "darlin'," but the "little" part underscored his slight build. Some of the crueler students teased him and called him Bird Bones.
He was there at the front entrance of the school waiting for me that first day, and he did introduce me to some of his friends who were like him, mild mannered, a little insecure. One of Mommy's favorite expressions, inherited from her own mother, was "Birds of a feather flock together." I thought of that often during the day, observing different personalities and the way they were drawn together to form the cliques in the school population. I didn't want to consider myself insecure. I really didn't think I was, despite my nervousness. Before the day ended I was talking with other students, more confident and upbeat than most of Randy's friends.
I saw Phoebe often in the hallways and cafeteria, but each time she acted as if she had never seen me before, barely looking at me for more than a second. I decided to consider that good luck.
Unfortunately, near the end of the week I discovered Phoebe hadn't been ignoring my existence as much as I had hoped she had. She had done a very good job of spreading "Sailor Girl" around the high school. Some of her male friends were saluting me in the halls. My first reaction was anger and indignation, but then I decided to go with the flow. Another one of Mommy's favorite expressions was "A branch that doesn't bend breaks." To fight them, to show them they were getting to me, would be defeating myself. I thought, Instead I started to salute back. At first they thought that was funny, but soon they became bored with it and then became annoyed if I did it to them first,
Roger was the first to break ranks and came to me in the cafeteria the last day of the first week to tell me I was the most frustrating person Phoebe had ever encountered.
"She as much as confessed it to me." he revealed. "You're confusing her. She doesn't know how to spoil things for you."
"Tell her to become my friend. That will ruin my day." I said, and he burst into laughter so loudly he drew the attention of most of the students around us.
"You're terrific," he said with what I thought was sincere admiration in his eyes.
Phoebe had just come in and was obviously annoyed that he was speaking to me. and I suddenly realized my own power and opportunity to launch a counteroffensive, as Daddy would put it.
"Thanks," I said. "Can I ask you a favor?" I smiled as coyly as I could.
You can ask." he said, flirting back, "but that doesn't mean I'll grant it."
"I've got to get home as quickly as possible today. Could you possibly drive me home?"
He considered my request a moment and then glanced back at Phoebe, who was shooting poison arrows from her eyes in my direction,
"Okay," he said impulsively. "Just meet me in the parking lot. I have my mother's car today, the black Mercedes convertible. It's not hard to find. It's the only Mercedes
there," he said.
"Thank you," I said demurely. "I'll be so grateful."
"Right. Okay." He looked nervous. but I thought his eyes also betrayed an explosion of excitement.
He returned to Phoebe and ignored me the remainder of the afternoon. How he got away from her after school I didn't know, but he was waiting nervously in his car when I approached.
"Get in." he said urgently as if we were making a getaway.
The moment I did, he backed up and shot out of the parking lot, sharply turning us onto the street. I hadn't even gotten my seat belt fastened.
"Do you always drive this fast?" I asked him.
He looked as if he wasn't going to talk to me at all but just deliver me to my home and take off. Finally, a good mile or so from the school, he relaxed and slowed down.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to inconvenience you in any way," I said.
He looked at me. "I'm not inconvenienced. No. I don't drive that fast all the time. I'd better not. One more speeding ticket, and my father will take away my license and not let me use any of the cars." He smiled. "I'm sort of on probation. I guess where you come from you would call it demoted or something. huh?"
"No. You're on report, but you're still a lieutenant junior grade."
He laughed. "Look." he said. "Let me give you a little advice. Don't go head to head with Phoebe. She has a real mean streak in her when she feels
threatened."
"How could I possibly threaten her?"
"Anyone who continually confronts her is a threat to her. She hasn't forgotten how you beat her at that card game in my house. She has a lot of friends at school, friends a lot like her, if you get my meaning. I've seen them go after someone. It's not pleasant."
"Why do you go with her if you dislike her so much?" I asked him.
"I don't dislike her."
"You don't like her," I insisted, "You can't like someone who does things you don't like."
"Where did you get so much wisdom about people?" he asked. smiling.
"I listen, and I don't forget," I said.
"You've traveled about a lot, haven't you?" he asked, looking at me with a new interest,
"Yes. I wasn't happy about it, but we had to move when my father was transferred to a different base."
"I guess that is hard, making new friends all the time," he concluded. He looked sorry for me.
"I survived," I said, and he laughed,
"You more than survived. Despite all that chaos in your life, you're smart and," he added, glancing at me."pretty as well as pretty sophisticated."
I didn't say anything. Once when Mommy and I were having a serious conversation about boys and romance, she told me the hardest thing to do is distinguish between a sincere compliment and one lavished an you for a selfish purpose. The school I was in at the time had a Great Books program as an extracurricular activity, and I had been admitted. One of our books was Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, and one of those tales was "The Nun's Priest's Tale." which told about the fox that trapped the rooster Chanticleer by flattering him and how Chanticleer turned the tables on the fox by flattering him back. I summarized the story for Mommy, and she nodded.
"My mother used to say. 'Flattery brings up one question only: What do you want?'You have to separate the baloney from the sincere compliment."
"But how can you tell the difference, Mommy? Especially when a man gives it?" I asked her.
She thought for a while and then said something I don't think I'll ever forget. "When it makes them happier than it makes you, it's sincere. Some people might call it pride, I guess. They are proud of you, proud you care for them."
Pride was an important word to a Navy man and a Navy wife. It didn't surprise me that Mommy chose it to help her explain what she meant. I saw how proudly Daddy stood in his uniform at ceremonies. but I also saw how proud he was when we went to social affairs and he had Mommy at his side. I saw it in her eyes as well. Their pride in each other made their love that much stronger and more passionate. Whenever he returned home, even if he had been away for only a short period, he would take her in his arms, and they would kiss as if they hadn't seen each other for years.
"You busy tomorrow night?" Roger asked when we stopped at my condo.
"My mother doesn't like me going out on school nights," I said. "She works every night at the restaurant, doesn't she?"
"Every night but Monday," I said.
"Well, how about I come around tomorrow night? That way you don't go out," he said.
"I like to get my homework done." "So? I'll help you."
I thought a moment. His request excited a part of me but made another part of me nervous. Phoebe would go ballistic if she found out. Maybe I was playing with fire and I would lose the little control I had.
"Relax," he urged. "You've got to learn to have more fun. We're not going to be teenagers forever, you know. This is supposed to be the best time of our lives."
"All right." I said, and wished I could pull the words back into my mouth the moment I had uttered them, but another saving of Mommy's came roaring back to me: "You can't unring a bell."
"Thanks for the ride." I cried, getting out quickly. This was my own fault. Why had I asked him to take me home?
I heard him laugh, and he drove off as I rushed into the house. Mommy was getting ready to leave far work. Twice this week, because of the time it took me to get home on the bus. I had missed her, and we didn't see each other until the following morning.
"Grace," she called from her bedroom.
"Hi," I said, stepping in. She was at her bathroom mirror, doing her makeup.
"How was school today?"
"Better," I said. "I found out I've already read half the new required assignments in English."
"I bet. Remember how Daddy used to tease you about leaving your nose in a book?"
"Yes."
Time had made it possible for me to smile at most of my good memories and not feel as if I was about to cry out my heart.
I watched her a moment, wondering:, if I should tell her about Roger. I didn't think she would be angry about it, and yet I couldn't help feeling guilty. I decided I wouldn't tell her, because I would find a way to cancel his coming, and why mention it if I not was going to have him come over?
Roger caught me completely by surprise the next day, however. He was with Wally and a group of boys when I spotted him in the hallway between classes. Phoebe wasn't too far off. with Ashley at her side listening to her hold court with some of her devoted followers. I approached Roger. There was only three minutes between classes, and we didn't have more than a minute or so left.
"Hi." I said.
He looked at me and then at the other boys as if he was surprised I would greet him so openly. They all smiled. Wally had no hesitation whatsoever when it came to recognizing and speaking to me. He gave me a big hello.
"Looking for a card game?" he asked.
"No. I wanted to speak to Roger."
"Me?" He looked to his right to see if Phoebe was watching. She was. "What for?"
"I wanted to tell you tonight was no good."
"For what?" he said, looking confused.
"For what? I mean about your coming over to my house."
"Who said I would do that? What, are you having delusions or something?" He looked at his friends, who looked at me and smiled.
Phoebe was starting toward us. I shook my head in disbelief and walked away quickly. If he wanted to be an idiot and a coward, let him. I thought. He got my message. I would have nothing to do with him.
Later, when I sat with Randy in the cafeteria. Phoebe. Ashley, and some of her other friends descended upon us, moving through the cafeteria like a flock of buzzards.
"I heard what you tried to pull," Phoebe accused even before she reached us. Everyone sitting at the tables nearby stopped his or her conversation and turned.
"I didn't try to pull anything," I said.
"What did you think, that by pretending Roger liked you, yo
u would get him to like you? Is this some sort of sneaky technique you used when you lived on Navy bases. Sailor Girl?" she wailed, wagging her head and flitting her gaze from one side to the other to be sure her audience appreciated everything she was doing and saying.
"I didn't use any sneaky technique on anyone."
"No, of course not. He told me what you did. First you beg him to take you home, crying about some sort of an emergency, and then you try this. Did you have to get home that quickly? Well? What was the emergency? Care to explain?" she dared me, standing back with her arms folded under her breasts.
Despite myself, tears came into my eyes. "It's none of your business." I said.
"Oh, it's none of my business." she repeated, raising her voice to be sure the students at the farthest tables could hear our exchange. "You go after my boyfriend and it's none of my business?"
"I didn't go after your boyfriend. He came to speak to me," I cried.
I shouldn't be doing this, I kept telling myself. I shouldn't let her bait me like this. She's getting me to fight her fight on her turf. It was bad tactics for me. but I couldn't help it.
"Oh. Roger shows a little bit of compassion for a pathetic, whiny, spoiled Sailor Girl, and you make it out to be a love affair. Well, everyone here be warned, especially boys," she said, raising her voice. "You talk to Sailor Girl, and you're in her boat whether you like it or not. Right, Randy?" She turned to him.
"Sh... sh.., shut up, Pheee... Phoebe."
"Ri... right. Ra... Randy. That's why she likes you. She can do all the talking, and you just li... li... listen."
The small crowd convulsed with laughter.
"That's cruel!" I screamed at her, and stood up. "You're a mean, egotistical person. If anyone is spoiled, it's you."
"Right, Sailor Girl," she retorted, and saluted with her shoulders back. "Aye. aye. Now back to swabbing the deck, and when you're done with that, clean the urinals." She pivoted and marched away, the frail of clones giggling and following like obedient rats.
When I gazed around. I saw dozens of students watching me in anticipation. My own face felt as if it was on fire. I had this great urge to leap over the table and tackle her. Randy, as if he could feel or hear my thoughts, reached up and touched my arm.