The Cat Ate My Gymsuit

by Paula Danziger

  “What’s that have to do with it?”

  “It’s easier if you look O.K.”

  “Marcy, looks don’t matter.”

  Sure, that’s what he always says. Maybe he’s right, but it’s sure hard to believe that when the rest of the world is skinny.

  The salesperson came over to ask if we needed any help. He probably thought that since we had been standing there for a while talking we were casing the place for a giant robbery, or at least planning to shoplift an ugly toilet seat.

  I smiled at him and said, “My friend here has just decided to purchase one of the lovely items. We were just wondering if it is a one-of-a-kind piece. It’s for his mother, and he wants it to be something that’s unusual, that everyone else won’t be wearing.”

  The salesperson looked down at the pin in Joel’s hand, tried not to smile, and said, “I’m quite positive that you’re not going to see that on too many people. That’s an unusual pin.”

  Joel nodded. “Yeah. It’s a special pin for a special person. I try to pick presents that are like the people they’re for. This pin is just right for my mother.”

  “She must be an unusual person.”

  Joel nodded his head again, and we headed for the cash register. Neither of us said anything else until we got out of the store. Once we did, Joel turned to me and said, “Very unusual,” and we both started laughing so hard that we couldn’t stop.

  Finally I wiped the tears out of my eyes and said, “Joel, let’s go back to my house and get some lunch. My mother will have the police out for us if we don’t get back, and if we stay here the cops’ll get us for disorderly conduct.”

  Wiping his eyes, Joel said, “You’re right. There probably is a law against laughing. And if there isn’t, they’ll make one. Don’t worry, if we get arrested for being happy, my father will defend us. I can see it all now.” And he jumped up on an empty chair. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. You were young once. Surely the crime of these poor misguided children, laughing in a public place and having fun, is something that you once did. They will learn as they grow up. Young Mr. Anderson has already begun reforming. He now dreams of becoming a school principal, and is currently taking mean pills in preparation thereof. Ms. Lewis, on the other hand, will not easily reform. She has pledged to follow the example of that awful Ms. Finney and become a fantastic English teacher, who teaches kids no prepositional phrases. But, dear ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Ms. Lewis will atone in time. Just yesterday, in her jail cell, she asked for a grammar book to read while eating her bread and water.”

  I jumped on the chair next to Joel’s. “We throw the fate of these two misguided innocents on you. Remember, justice must be tempered with mercy.”

  At that point, one of the shopping center rent-a-cops came over and said, “Listen, you two. Very funny. Now get down and move on.”

  So Joel and I hopped down and headed off.

  When we got to my house, my mother was sitting on the steps playing with Stuart. When he saw us coming, he ran over yelling, “Marcy. Joel. What did you buy me?” My mother looked over at us. She looked very lonely all of a sudden.

  I walked over, hugged her, and said, “What’s for lunch? We’re starving.”

  She smiled. “Is Joel staying?”

  I nodded.

  Stuart kept saying, “What did you get me?”

  I looked down at him. “Nothing.”

  He started to cry.

  Another family scene.

  Joel kneeled down, put his hand on Stuart’s shoulder, and said, “Stuart, come on, be good. You don’t get a present every time you want one. It’s not like that.”

  Stuart held Wolf up. “Kiss Wolf.”

  Joel laughed. “Don’t be silly, Stuart. I hardly know Wolf.”

  Mother, Joel, and I started to laugh, too. Stuart didn’t understand, but he began to smile. We all went inside and had lunch. Stuart and Joel had peanut butter and banana sandwiches and Mother and I had tuna fish, Weight Watchers style.

  After lunch, Joel, Stuart, and I went out to the park and played with a Frisbee. Afterwards both of us sat on a bench and watched Stuart swing.

  “He’s a good kid. Sometimes I wish I had brothers and sisters.”

  “I think it would be nice to be an only child.”

  “Don’t you like Stuart?”

  “Yeah. But I always get blamed when he does something wrong. And lots of times they’re nicer to him than me.”

  “I think you should be nice to him. He’s a good kid, and he’s fun. The thing with Wolf is funny. I bet he gets lonely sometimes. That’s why Wolf is his friend. Doesn’t he know any kids his own age?”

  I thought about all that for a few minutes and said, “He knows some kids at nursery school and some of the neighborhood kids, but he’s alone a lot. They make fun of him because of Wolf. That dumb teddy bear.”

  “I like him. He likes you a lot. You should give him a chance.”

  “It’s hard in my family to just be friends with any of them. They always ask me to do things.”

  Stuart came running. He wanted to play Frisbee again.

  Joel, Stuart, and I played until dinnertime. Then Joel left to go home, and Stuart and I headed back to our house.

  CHAPTER 17

  I woke up the next morning with a stomachache and a horrible headache. At first I thought that I was doomed to some horrible sickness that teenagers always catch on television shows.

  Then I remembered. Today was the date of Ms. Finney’s hearing. By night I would know if she was going to be back or not.

  I got out of bed and dressed. My stomach and head still ached, but I figured I’d survive, and anyway, if I told my mother, she might not let me go to the hearing.

  So I went downstairs. My father had already left for work. My mother was sitting down at the table, reading the paper.

  “Marcy, look, there’s a lot about Ms. Finney in here.”

  She handed me the paper, and I sat down to read it. There was interesting stuff in it, all about how Ms. Finney had gone to a progressive college and how she was currently going for a master’s degree. The paper said that during college she had been active in drama productions, had been on the literary and humor magazines, the yearbook and newspaper staffs, and had helped organize group-dynamics activities. She had also been involved in college demonstrations. And she’d been elected to a national honor society.

  “She’s a bright, interesting woman. I hope that she comes back as your teacher.”

  “Me too.”

  “Turn to the ‘Letters to the Editor’ page. It’s all about Ms. Finney.”

  I turned to the page. There were lots of letters, about fifty-fifty for and against. The people supporting her tended to use “Ms.” in their letters, and the ones against her would call her “Miss Finney.” One of them was from Mrs. Alexander, Robert’s mother. She wrote that Miss Finney was warping young minds and was unpatriotic and should be fired. There was also a letter from Joel and his father, standing behind Ms. Finney, saying that she was a great innovative teacher.

  “Mom, did you see Joel and his father’s letter?”

  “Yes, Marcy. Keep reading.”

  I skimmed the rest of the page; Ms. Finney had shown us how to read quickly for important facts. Glancing at the bottom of the page, I saw a letter signed by my mother. It said that as the president of the PTA and as the mother of two children, she was profoundly interested in the state of education and that she felt that Ms. Finney had helped the students to learn English and to learn to like themselves.

  “Oh, Mom. Why didn’t you tell me? It’s such a nice letter. Oh, what’s Dad going to say when he sees this?”

  “He saw it this morning. I showed it to him.”

  “Did he yell?”

  “No. He said that he didn’t approve but that I had to do what I thought was right. Then he said that my place was in the home, not being political, and that he hoped I would come to my senses.”

  “Then what happe
ned?”

  “I told him that my place was wherever I wanted to be, and he left and slammed the door.”

  “Oh, Mom.”

  “You know, Marcy, I feel very good about this. I feel much stronger. And guess what else?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve decided that I’m going to get out and look for a job or maybe go back to school. What do you think?”

  I smiled. “I’m happy.”

  “Me too.”

  The phone rang. I ran to answer it. Joel was on the other end. He’d seen my mother’s letter and called to ask if he could come over and visit. I said, “Sure,” then hung up and went back to talk.

  “Joel’s coming over.”

  “Good, I’m glad. He’s nice, Marcy. I’m pleased that the two of you are going out.”

  “Listen, we’re just friends. Don’t send out wedding invitations yet.”

  My mother laughed.

  The phone rang again. This time it was Nancy. She wanted to know if I could come over. I told her that Joel was on his way and we might be over later.

  Standing near the phone, my mother said, “I’m so glad that you’ve made some new friends.”

  I nodded. “And they don’t tell me all the time that I have to look like everybody else.”

  “They don’t care about you the way I do. I’m your mother. I don’t mean to hurt you. It would be so nice to see you thin.”

  “Please don’t start. Come on.”

  We looked at each other carefully. Then I started to walk away.

  “Marcy, I love you. Let me help you be all that you can. Please. I want you to help me, too.”

  I ran back to her, and we hugged each other.

  When the doorbell rang, I ran to the door, opened it, and smiled. It was so good to see Joel.

  He came in and talked to my mother and me, and then the two of us went over to Nancy’s house and spent the day watching quiz shows and talking.

  Joel walked me back to the house and told me that he’d see me at the hearing. I was getting nervous again just thinking about it.

  Dinner at my house was another scene. My father refused to say anything through most of the meal. As he drank his coffee, he just stared at my mother and me. Finally, he started to talk.

  “You know, it’ll be great when that Miss Finney gets fired. It’ll teach both of you not to get involved in bleeding-heart causes. Watch out for yourself, that’s my motto. Don’t always be on the side of radicals. It’ll get you nowhere.”

  I bit my lower lip to keep from saying anything. He wasn’t going to bother me. I didn’t want to let him.

  He continued, “Lily, you’ve managed to get involved. I don’t understand you anymore. You’ve always been such a good wife.”

  My mother frowned and started to clear the table. “Martin, I’m still a good wife, probably better now that I say what I think. Please, let’s not fight. I’ve made up my mind.”

  Grumbling, he picked up his coffee.

  Beginning to help clear the table, I said, “What time are we leaving for the hearing?”

  He said, “I’ve decided. We’re not going.”

  Turning around, my mother said, “Don’t worry, Marcy, I still have a set of keys to the car. We’re leaving in half an hour.”

  My stomach started to hurt, and I started to shake.

  “So now you’re upset. Well, it serves you right, young lady. You’ve managed to disrupt the whole household.”

  Dropping the dishes on the floor, I ran upstairs. I couldn’t stop shaking. My mother followed.

  “Come on, honey, please stop. Please. It’s going to be all right.”

  She held me and rocked me back and forth. “Marcy, please. Honey. Do you want to talk about it? What can I do? Please. I promise I’ll get you help. We’ll both go to someone for counseling. Even if your father doesn’t like it, I’ll go to work to pay for it. Please. I’m sorry.”

  The phone rang. My mother picked it up. It was Nancy. She handed me the phone, but I shook my head. She took it back.

  “Nancy, Marcy can’t talk to you right now. Could I please speak to your mother?”

  She smiled at me and waited for Mrs. Sheridan to get on the phone.

  “Hello, Sara? Listen, we’re having a little problem here. Are you going to the hearing? Good. Could you possibly pick Marcy and me up? . . .No, there’s nothing wrong with the car . . .Yes . . .Martin’s being impossible . . .O.K. We’ll see you in about ten minutes.” She hung up.

  I had calmed down a little. Seeing how calm my mother was helped me. I couldn’t believe it. Smiling at me, she said, “Go wash your face. Let’s get going.”

  Once I got my face washed, we headed downstairs.

  My father was standing in the living room, holding on to a small piece of the car engine. He held it out to us. “If you’re planning to use the car, you’ll have to figure out where this goes.”

  My mother glared at him. “Martin, you know what you can do with that.” Turning to me, she said, “Come on, Marcy, let’s wait outside.”

  We waited on the steps. In a few minutes Nancy and her parents drove up. We got into the car. No one said much. It was obvious that things were tense.

  Finally, Mr. Sheridan said, “I want you girls to remember that Ms. Finney may not win. If that happens, she’ll probably have to take it to court. This is just a school hearing, you know. Be prepared for anything that happens.”

  Mrs. Sheridan said, “I’ve heard that she’s gotten the backing of the American Civil Liberties Union.”

  My mother nodded. “I just hope she wins. It’s very important.”

  No one said anything else.

  As we got close to the school, we saw that the place was jammed. People were picketing. Others were just standing around. There were even television cameras.

  Mr. Sheridan let us out and went to look for a parking space. I’d never seen the high school so crowded. An interviewer came up to my mother. “I understand you are president of the PTA. We’d like you to make a statement.”

  My mother smiled at the man and said, “I feel that Ms. Finney is a fine teacher and should be where she belongs, in front of a classroom.” Someone booed. Another person cheered. I could see that my mother was a little shaky. The interviewer left.

  “Good work, Ms. Lewis. You did that well.” We turned around and saw Joel, who was smiling. Phil was standing with him.

  My mother laughed and said, “Thank you, Joel. I’m happy to have a chance to do my part.”

  Phil said, “We’d better head in if we’re going to find a place to sit.”

  “Why don’t you go in and save seats for the rest of us?” my mother suggested. “We’re still waiting for Mr. Sheridan.”

  So Nancy, Phil, Joel, and I went inside.

  Finding seats, we looked around. Joel asked me how everything was going.

  “Not so good. The scene at my house tonight was horrible. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  Joel looked at me. “I thought it might have been bad when I didn’t see him here tonight.”

  The Sheridans and my mother joined us, so we stopped talking about it.

  All of a sudden everyone in the auditorium started to turn around. Ms. Finney was arriving. With her were three people, two men and another woman. One was the man who had played guitar with her in class. The other two carried briefcases and looked official.

  I was so nervous, I felt that I couldn’t breathe. But it was great to see Ms. Finney. She looked very tired, though.

  They sat down in the front row in a special section. Then the Board of Education members came out and sat down at long tables in the front of the room. The school board president, Mr. Winston, pounded his gavel and said, “There will be no disruptions, nor will there be any cameras used. If these rules are not followed, this hearing will be closed.”

  Then they began. First they had to talk about old business. The budget was discussed. Bus routes were argued about. Teachers’ salary negotiations were mentioned. Finall
y, after what seemed like hours, Mr. Winston said that it was time for the new business.

  Everyone was absolutely quiet. Mr. Winston said that there were several items on his agenda to cover. I couldn’t believe it. They still weren’t going to get to Ms. Finney. My stomach was beginning to kill me.

  They named teachers who were resigning, approved teachers who were replacing them; decided on when we would make up the days missed; and then Mr. Winston said, “We are now ready to begin discussing Miss Barbara Finney. I would like to remind everyone that this room must remain orderly.”

  Mr. Stone got up to speak first. He said that Barbara Finney had been a problem since she got to the school; that she dressed strangely; that her teaching was not traditional, and that he never would have hired her if Mr. Edwards had not left suddenly. Miss Finney’s students, he continued, were rude to him and were getting wild. Moreover, as a veteran he found her not saying the Pledge of Allegiance an unpatriotic and misguided stand. He finished up by saying that he did not want her in his school anymore.

  Several people cheered. Mr. Winston pounded his gavel and warned everyone to remain quiet. Then he called Ms. Finney up. He asked her to reply to Mr. Stone’s charges.

  She stared straight ahead and began. “I don’t think it’s a crime to dress differently. I never dress immodestly at school, nor do I tell the students how to dress.

  “As for teaching differently, that’s very true. I’m not at all ashamed of that. I’m hopefully teaching human beings to communicate with one another and to love and respect the English language. I try to do it in ways that will interest and excite students. Everyone complains that children can’t and don’t read. Well, my students are reading, and their writing has improved. Just check their records. The results are there. Isn’t that what’s important?”

  She paused to catch her breath. Her voice got softer. “As for the Pledge of Allegiance, I choose not to say it. I salute the flag each morning as a symbol of what this country is supposed to be, but I can’t say the Pledge. I am sorry to have to say that I don’t believe this country offers liberty and justice for all. I will continue to work toward that end, but until I see it happening, I will not say the Pledge. I am a good American. I care about the country and the people in it.”