“Brian,” Alison said, “I think you just became the coolest kid in the sixth grade.”
“Oh, way to go, Alison,” Brad joked. “Now he’s gonna have the biggest head in the sixth grade.”
“Not as big as Molly’s,” Alison countered.
“So true,” Brad said.
Sally continued to gawk. She replayed the scene in her head several times, and in every instance, it ended with Brian choosing to stay with her instead of going with Molly. She couldn’t figure it out.
She sighed to herself. The universe was not making sense to her anymore. She used to understand the rules. Now, good things were happening to her, and she couldn’t explain it. It frightened and pleased her at the same time.
***
Brian and Brad became regulars at their table. On Wednesday and Thursday, they showed up midway through lunch like they had on Tuesday. On Friday, Brian met Sally at the cafeteria door.
“Hey, Sal,” he said. “Usual table today?”
“Uh, I guess,” she said.
“Cool. Save me a seat.”
“Okay,” she said.
She felt off-kilter by this new change to the routine. She’d hadn’t even gotten used to Brian and Brad hanging with Alison and her – which they did pretty regularly now, showing up at her locker before and after school. Now she was saving him a seat while he went through the lunch line? This just couldn’t be her life.
“So what’s everyone got going this weekend,” Brian asked when all four of them were at the table.
“My parents are dragging us up to visit my grandparents,” Brad complained. “It’s gonna be the dullest.”
“That sounds nice,” Sally said.
“Trust me, it isn’t,” Brad said. “My grandmother still thinks I’m, like, six years old. She bakes cookies for me and wants to know if I want to play a game like Sorry! or Clue.”
“Now, make certain you measure carefully, Sally,” Grandma said as Sally dug into the sugar jar with a one-cup measuring cup. “When we’re baking, we have to be precise.”
Sally took great care to get exactly one cup of sugar into the scoop. When she was sure she had it right, she brought it over to the table.
“Is this good?” she said.
“Yes, Sally, that’s excellent.”
Grandma nodded approvingly as Sally poured the contents into the mixing bowl. Sally beamed at her when she was done.
“Now, how many eggs does it say we need,” Grandma asked. Sally consulted the recipe.
“Two.”
“Okay, why don’t you get them out of the refrigerator?”
Sally dashed over to the fridge, opened it, and selected two eggs from the carton. She brought them back and handed them to her grandmother, who cracked them gently into the bowl.
“Baking is chemistry, Sally,” Grandma said. “Always remember that. Cooking is art, but baking is science. All our measurements have to be precise or we change the chemistry of the dessert, and it doesn’t turn out right.”
Sally nodded solemnly. Was there anything Grandma didn’t know?
Back in the present, Sally suddenly thought she was going to cry. She missed her grandmother. She had always had treats for Tommy and her. She liked to give presents.
Brian was talking about his mom dragging him to Oktoberfest, although Sally wasn’t paying close attention. He didn’t sound enthused about the prospect.
“I mean, look at me,” he was saying. “Do I look German?”
Alison and Brad laughed. Sally was confused for a moment. Then she realized he’d made a joke about being African-American.
“Seriously,” he continued. “I do not get why my mom wants to go to this thing.”
“Cuz you need a new pair of lederhosen,” Brad said.
“OMG!” Alison guffawed. “I would pay green money to see you in lederhosen!”
“I’ll be sure to take a selfie and post it to Instagram,” Brian said.
“Make sure you’re yodeling,” Alison said, still laughing.
That image made Sally smile. She could feel her regret slipping away from her by degrees.
“I don’t know what y’all think is so funny about it,” Brian said. “Y’all are gonna see me in tights in a couple months when the play goes up.”
“Wait,” Brad said. “Tights?”
“You too, homey,” Brian said. “You’re Mercutio.”
“Yeah, but nobody said anything about tights,” Brad said.
“Seriously?” Alison said. “You didn’t know you’d have to wear tights? It’s Shakespeare!”
Brad opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked horror-stricken. Brian clapped him on the shoulder.
“Relax, dude,” he said. “You’re gonna rock ’em. They don’t like to say it, but all the honeys like a man in tights. Let’s ’em check ’em out, know what I mean?”
Alison rolled her eyes. Sally frowned. This conversation had just gotten really strange. She rapidly became uncomfortable.
“Is that true,” Brad asked.
“Not really,” Alison said. “The parts we’d want to check out are covered. All we’ll see in tights is your legs.”
Brian laughed, but Brad looked relieved. Sally suddenly realized there was a whole new aspect of the play she needed to worry about.
“What about you, Sal?” Brian said.
“Huh?” Sally said. Was he asking her if she planned to check out the boys backstage?
“Sal?” Alison said.
“He’s been calling her that since the play started,” Brad said.
“What are your plans for the weekend?” Brian said.
“Oh!” A tremendous sense of relief washed through her when she realized she would not have to venture an opinion on boys in tights. “I don’t know. I guess not much.”
“OMG, I totally forgot!” Alison said. “There’s a carnival in town. My dad said he would take me. You’re totally coming with me!”
“When?”
“Saturday night.”
“Maaan, that sounds way better than going to my grandma’s,” Brad said.
“Or Oktoberfest,” Brian added.
“I don’t know, Alison,” Sally said. “I’d have to ask my dad, and he might say no.”
She didn’t want to admit they didn’t have any money. Carnivals were usually expensive, and there was no way her dad would give her any cash. She might have told Alison privately, but she wasn’t saying a word about it in front of the boys.
“Ne sois pas bête!” Alison said. “All you have to do is ask him. He always lets you go places with me, and my dad’ll drive, so he doesn’t have to make any effort besides giving you a curfew. C’est tellement simple, cherie!”
“Wow,” Brian said. “I’m becoming German this weekend; Alison is already French; this is, like, the international table.”
“Vous n’étes pas intelligent,” Alison replied with a sour look on her face.
“No parlez-vous Français, baby,” Brian said.
“That’s not how you say it!” Alison said with a laugh.
“I think that makes my point,” Brian countered.
“She said you’re not smart, dude,” Brad said, snickering.
“Moi?” Brian said, turning to Brad in mock surprise.
“Vous,” Brad replied.
“Anyway,” Alison said. “Sally, you have to ask your dad. It won’t be the same without you.”
“Yeah, listen to Frenchie here,” Brian said.
“Frenchie!” Alison protested.
“You can’t sit at home all weekend,” Brian said, ignoring Alison. “We’re all getting out, even if Brad and I are stuck going to Dullsville. Gotta get yourself in the game, girl!”
“Okay,” Sally said. “I’ll ask.”
She didn’t think her father was going to say yes, but there was no telling Brian or Alison that. It was better to just go along with them.
Besides this conversation was the most fun she’d had at school in a long time. She enjoy
ed the play, but they were just getting started, and as cool as it was, it was still work. This was just hanging out, talking, and enjoying other people’s company. It was nice.
***
Sally had barely started making dinner, when Alison texted to see if she had asked her dad about the carnival. She hadn’t. She’d been putting off that disappointment to savor the memories of Romeo and Juliet rehearsal.
Sally had gotten onstage as Juliet for the first time today. Mr. Pipich had started blocking the show yesterday, and he’d spent a lot of time with the initial confrontation between Romeo and Tybalt.
Today, he’d made it into the next scenes with the Capulets, and Sally finally got to do something besides the Prologue. Of course, Juliet’s first scene wasn’t much. She only had five lines or so. Most of it was the Nurse going on and on about how beautiful Juliet was, and Shelly Green definitely got into the part. Sally thought she had been overacting, but Mr. Pipich didn’t say anything about it.
Still, it was nice to get up onstage and actually get to be Juliet. Reading through the show earlier in the week hadn’t been the same. It was fun to get to read all Juliet’s lines and know they were hers, but today she had actually been up there, learning to be Juliet. It made her happy to think about.
So she didn’t want her father’s inevitable rejection of her request to go to the carnival to dash her good spirits.
But Alison was insistent, so after she got the chicken nuggets and the fries into the oven, she took a deep breath and faced him.
“Daddy?” she said, putting as much sweetness in her tone as she could manage.
“Yeah?” he said, not turning away from the television.
“So there’s this carnival in town, and Alison’s going, and she invited me to go with her tomorrow, so can I go?”
“Carnival?” he said.
He sipped his drink. Sally nodded even though he wasn’t looking at her. She was afraid whatever she said would be wrong.
“Sounds expensive,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she said. “It won’t be.”
“Well, how much money would you need?”
“Um, twenty dollars?”
He turned and looked at her at last, studying her for a few moments. She plastered a bright and hopeful look on her face.
“I don’t know, Sally,” he said. “That’s a lot of money. I’m not sure we have that right now.”
Her expression fell. Despite the fact that she knew he would say no, bitterness filled her heart.
“We always have money for booze,” she grumbled.
“Hey!” he said, swinging his arm and spilling his drink. “Don’t you sass me like that!”
“Whatever,” she said and turned away from him.
She had fifteen minutes before dinner would be done, so she stalked down the hall to her room and slammed the door. She didn’t understand why she was so angry about it. She’d known this would happen. She knew from the start her father would prevent her from going. She’d told Alison so this afternoon at lunch.
But it still hurt. It was still disappointing. She had nothing to look forward to this weekend, and it stung to know Alison would be going to the carnival and Brad was visiting his grandmother. She wanted to visit her grandmother. It wasn’t fair.
She texted the sad, expected news to Alison. She got back an angry-faced emoji almost right away. She rolled her eyes in irritation. Why did Alison think it would happen? Sally had told her it wouldn’t.
On a whim, she checked her text history with her mother to see if she’d received a response about her mom coming to Romeo and Juliet. As she’d expected, there was nothing. She decided to pester her.
Any word on if u can come?
To her great surprise, Sally got a response almost immediately.
Come to what?
Sally wanted to scream. She resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room.
Romeo and Juliet.
The seconds passed as though they were years. She was beginning to think she wouldn’t get a reply, when her phone chimed.
Sally, I told you I am supposed to travel that weekend. I am trying to see what I can arrange, but these things take time. I’ll see what I can do.
Of course. Some other thing was more important than Sally. Again.
Stop it, she told herself. Mom has a really hard job, but she’s trying her best. She won’t miss something like this. It’s too big. She’ll find a way.
Try as she might, Sally found her affirmation hard to believe. If Mom cared, why hadn’t they seen her since school started?
When the timer went off on the stove, she flung herself off her bed, opened the door, and stomped down the hall. She was about to rip the oven door open, when her father spoke.
“Sally?” he said.
“What?”
She put a glare on her face and turned to him. He sat at the kitchen table, his arms wrapped around his drink, looking sorrowful. Her anger dissipated instantly.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Sometimes . . . sometimes I forget you’re still a little girl.”
“I’m not little, Dad,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “It’s just . . . after your mom left, I . . . Well, I was no good at anything. And you took care of everything. You learned to cook. You learned to do laundry. You make sure your brother gets on the bus in the morning. And it’s not fair. You’re a little girl. You shouldn’t have to do all that stuff.”
“I don’t mind,” she said, although she did.
“Anyway, you’re a kid, and you should get to have some fun. Twenty dollars isn’t that much money. I guess you can go this carnival.”
Her heart stopped. Did he really just say that?
“You mean it?” she said, joy bubbling over in her tone.
“Yeah, I mean it.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” she said, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him. “You’re the best daddy in the whole world.”
“No, sweetie,” he said, weeping. “No, I’m not. I’m a pretty terrible dad. But you’re the best daughter anyone could imagine. I’m proud of you, Sally.”
Tears leaked from her eyes too. He was proud of her? Really? She couldn’t remember anyone saying they were proud of her for a very long time.
“I love you, Daddy,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
“I love you too,” he whispered.
She held him tightly, savoring this perfect moment. Then the smell of chicken nuggets reached her nose.
“Oh, shit! The chicken!” she said, breaking off the embrace and rushing to the oven.
“Watch your language, young lady,” her father said, but there was no anger in his tone.
She pulled the oven door open and was hit with a blast of heat, forcing her to lean back for a moment. Then she ducked back in, grabbed the cookie sheet out, and flung it on the stovetop as she slammed the oven door shut.
The smoke alarm went off. She turned on the fan on the range. The alarm quit screeching.
She examined the chicken nuggets. They were well done, but they didn’t appear to be burned.
“Ha!” she crowed. “Just in time!”
“Is dinner ready?” Tommy said as he entered the kitchen.
“Ha-ha,” she replied, her voice covered in sarcasm. “Very funny.
“Come on, people. Let’s eat.”
***
Sally stood in a room with red, velvet curtains. There were no doors, just curtains all the way around. She was confused, uncertain how she had gotten here. Tentatively, she walked towards one of the “walls.” The curtains had a part in them, and she pushed through it.
She came into another room like the first. This one, though, had a table in its center and several chairs around it. A mirror was suspended in midair on the back wall. Sally could detect nothing holding it up. Curious, she stepped forward and gazed into it.
In the glass, she saw a hall of mirrors. Hundreds of mirrors hung suspended in the air like
the one in which she was gazing. The strange place had no walls. The floor, the roof, everything was white – like the mirrors had been drawn on a blank, three-dimensional page.
Suddenly, she was among the mirrors, no longer in the room with red, velvet curtains. She wandered among them, but like the one in the red-curtained room, they did not cast a reflection. Instead, they all showed different scenes – as though they were elaborate televisions or computer screens.
Sally watched some of them. In one, snow fell softly in the mountains while a girl wandered lost, calling out for her parents. In another, a child’s parents told him there was no Santa Claus. In a third, a boy let a teenager examine his Pokémon cards only to have the older kid steal them. Every scene was sad. Every one somehow reflected a disappointment.
But one in particular drew her attention. A boy wearing pajamas ran through the woods, terrified. He kept looking back.
Sally drew back in alarm when she saw he was being chased by the giant dogs from her dreams. They roared their lust for his blood and pursued swiftly, easily eluding the fallen tree branches and the roots on the ground.
She was about to turn away when she noticed something else – the boy in the scene was Tommy.
“No,” she said.
She rushed to the mirror, put her hands on it. But she could not penetrate the glass.
“No!” she said again, beating her fist on the frame.
Steam came from Tommy’s mouth in great puffs as he tried his best to get away. The dogs gained ground, drool dripping from their deadly jaws.
At last, his foot caught on a root, and he tumbled forward. The dogs were on him in an instant.
“Tommy!” she cried, but it was no use. She could not penetrate the mirror, and he could not fend off the savage beasts.
She turned away, unwilling to watch them tear him to pieces, when, suddenly, she was in her room. The hall of mirrors was gone. It took a moment for the shock to subside. What had happened to Tommy? Why was she here? Something was wrong, and it scared her.
She heard a noise down the hall. She turned her head to listen but couldn’t make out what it was. Wordlessly, she left her room to investigate.
The hallway in the house was much longer than usual, and she was lit by moonlight. As she walked, she seemed to get no closer to the end.
Little Red Riding Hoodie: A Modern Fairy Tale Page 8
