Three minutes ‘till the second bell clanged, everyone appeared to be in a particular flurry today. Most of the action orbited around James’ desk. Suzette, of course, stood front and center, her followers flocking toward her.
At the center of the commotion, James provided pull, his hands flailing above the clustered girls’ heads. Given the clucking of the girls, no doubt James was regaling them with amusing anecdotes.
My own center—my perilously perched heart—sunk. James’ actions didn’t align with his words from yesterday.
I felt duped in the worst way, a silly girl lured in by a nice smile and deep eyes and broad shoulders. Then I rightly put things into perspective. James’ smile was a lurid, smoker’s green, his eyes captured the intelligence of a cow’s, and his shoulders didn’t hold a candle to Suzette’s man-back.
I hurried to Mrs. Hopkins’ desk and handed her Dad’s note.
“I see,” she sniffed. “We were quite worried about you, Dibby. Quite worried. Next time this happens, please see the school nurse.”
Eager to sit down in relative invisibility, I nodded, and hurried toward my desk.
Suzette and her gang separated from James. Once Suzette caught my eye, she gave me one of those haughty up and down looks that came second nature to her. “Well, looks like you’re back to wearing stylish farm-wear, Dibby,” she said.
Burning like a hay-stuffed barn, I sank low in my seat and felt even lower. I couldn’t even look in James’ direction. Let Suzette listen to all of his stupid gibberish if that’s the way he wanted it. I resolved myself to a life alone.
But Suzette just wouldn’t let up. “Are those hand-me-downs from your grandpa, Dibby?”
Clear as a motion picture, I envisioned myself launching across the room, and popping Suzette in her expensively put together mouth. Sure, the braces would hurt—quite a bit, I reckoned—but they also might serve as brass knuckles and really gum her up good. Briefly, I weighed the merits of suspension versus common sense.
The other girls tittered at their ringleader’s harsh and cruel taunts. I scrunched farther down into my seat. An elbow on the desk, my face resting in my hand, I tried to hide my shame. And tether my growing fury.
“Well, I’m darn glad you came to your senses, Dibby,” continued Suzette, “and settled back into your regular hired hand clothing. I mean, honestly…what in the world possessed you to dress like you did yesterday? You looked like an icky old man had dressed you. You looked like—”
Sometimes common sense ain’t all it’s cut out to be.
Like a rocket, I launched out of my seat. I might’ve yelled or maybe that’d been someone else. Jet fuel propelled me across the classroom. Suzette’s awful face, painted and twisted into a scowl, drew closer and closer and bigger and moon-sized ugly. My rocket-fist landed on her mouth.
One punch put things right. As Suzette went down, screams soared high. As I sorely expected, my knuckles had taken a sound beating. But it was well worth it.
As in the movies, I threw up my arms. Waiting for arrest or a show of victory, I didn’t rightly know, but it just felt like the right thing to do at the time.
Mrs. Hopkins rushed toward me, her voice like a wah-wah trombone. In a heap of chiffon and bows, Suzette boo-hooed a river. She held a petite and painted hand over her mouth. Blood spilled between her fingers, perfectly complementing her barn-red lipstick.
Finally, I glanced at James. He smiled and gave a sort of dumb, slow nod.
I couldn’t quite pinpoint how I regarded his reaction. Either he approved of my handiwork or he was a big jerk. The truth probably lay somewhere in between.
* * *
The four of us sat in a row, Principal Brining’s firing squad line-up. Other than a few huffed, irate words, Dad hadn’t really said much to me since his arrival. Later, in the privacy of our home, I fully expected to hear more words, the kind he used whenever he stubbed a toe.
On the other hand, Mrs. Keating—Suzette’s mother—had quite a bit to say.
“Mr. Brining, just look at my daughter. Look at her,” Mrs. Keating ordered with the force of a drill sergeant.
As instructed, everyone gandered at Suzette. Next to her mother, the little blonde terror snuffled like someone’d torn the arms off her prized dolly.
The Devil’s voice inside of me said, “Yeah. Just look at her. Atta’ girl, champ!” But I buried that voice when Dad gave me the evil eye.
“Yes, Mrs. Keating,” Principal Brining said, “I’m aware of Suzette’s injury. She’s been thoroughly examined by our nurse and—”
“I would hardly call Mrs. Hemsworth a qualified nurse, Mr. Brining!” Mrs. Keating leaned in, narrowed her eyes. “She’s your front desk woman!”
Principal Brining spread his hands. “I’m afraid small towns have small ways. But there’s no damage to Suzette’s teeth and her braces appear to be intact as well. I’m sure—”
“I barely hit her,” I muttered.
“Quiet, Dibby,” hissed Dad. Tonight no amount of hugs or professions of love would bandage these open wounds. “I think you’ve caused enough trouble for one day!”
I folded my arms, snorted.
“You see what I mean, Mr. Brining!” Mrs. Keating stuck a bejeweled finger toward me, one I was sorely tempted to bite. “This…this little monster shows no remorse or—”
“My daughter’s hardly a monster, Mrs. Keating.” Dad found a new target for his ire and it pleased me to no end. “Now, granted, I admit what Dibby did was wrong, but it wasn’t entirely unwarranted. It’s my understanding your daughter is quite the playground bully—”
“Dad, we don’t have playgrounds anymore.”
“…and Suzette’s been acting mean and provoking my daughter for some time. Before we start calling names, Mrs. Keating, I believe it might behoove you to look into your own daughter’s appalling behavior.” Very much an anti-violent man, Dad nevertheless came to my rescue, even though my punching Suzette surely put his moral fiber to the test.
The funny thing is, I’d never told Dad word one about how Suzette had tortured me over the years. Maybe adults paid a little more attention than I gave ‘em credit for.
“Why, that’s preposterous,” said Mrs. Keating. “My daughter’s an absolute angel, a—”
“More like devil-spawn,” I whispered.
“That’s enough, Dibby! Don’t make me tell you again.” Dad glared at me, then switched to Mrs. Keating. “Now, by all means, have a dentist give Suzette a full examination and—”
“I certainly intend on doing that,” snipped Mrs. Keating.
“…we’ll pay for any damages. If there are any damages. And I’ll see to it that Dibby is fully reprimanded for her behavior—”
“Her beastly behavior.”
Dad glowered at Mrs. Keating. I hoped he’d expend all his glowering before we got home.
“And I fully expect you to do the same for your daughter, Mrs. Keating. If I hear Suzette’s returned to her same, bullying ways after this…well, we just might finding ourselves having a long chat.”
And I knew how Dad liked to chat, his version of a sock to the mouth.
Suzette bubbled over anew. Her claws jagged out for her mother. Mrs. Keating kept her daughter at arm’s length, probably not wanting to soil her Jackie Kennedy dress with Suzette’s blood and tears. Instead, she consoled her daughter with a dainty fingertip pat on the back. The apples don’t fall far from the tree, so I’ve heard, especially the sour ones.
Poor Mr. Brining just sorta’ looked befuddled, at a loss as Dad and Mrs. Keating commandeered his meeting.
Mrs. Keating said, “Mr. Brining, I certainly hope you’ll suspend, if not expel, this…this…girl.” She refused to look at me, let alone address me by name.
Mr. Brining hemmed and hawed like a donkey refusing to go down in a mine. Finally, he said, “Mrs. Keating, I’m afraid I’ve heard several eyewitness accounts regarding Suzette’s occasionally less than…civil behavior.”
“You’r
e telling me you knew about this bullying?” Dad jumped up on that ol’ soap-box and stood tall. “And refused to do anything about it?”
“Well, you see…it’s not all that simple.” While Principal Brining blathered on, Suzette just kept a’crying, lending me a mighty headache. I was sorely tempted to hush her up the hard way.
“Both Suzette and Dibby are two of our finest students,” continued Mr. Brining. “They both achieve high grades. I’m afraid if I suspend one, I’ll have to suspend the other. Frankly, I’d rather not do that. It’d be a mark on their permanent records.”
Of course I’d heard about the mysterious permanent record, a document carrying so much secret heft and weight it may as well be locked up in the Pentagon. One of these days, I’d like a gander at mine, just to see what the adults were all on about.
“That’s preposterous,” spat Mrs. Keating. “This girl assaulted my daughter! You can’t possibly let her actions go unpunished! Why, it’s simply barbaric!”
Brining’s hands went up again, patting the air, and putting out fires. “As I said, Mrs. Keating, if I suspend Dibby, I’ll need to suspend Suzette as well. I don’t think any of us want that.” He waited for someone to object. I highly doubted they’d take my vote into consideration.
“Now, I’ve been reading about several new methods of dealing with disciplinary problems,” said Mr. Brining. “Positive, instead of negative, reinforcement. What I propose is that Suzette and Dibby apologize to one another. Shake hands, smile, and repeat in front of their classroom. Then, for one week, they’ll stay after school and work together—as a team—helping Mrs. Hopkins with various classroom chores.”
I groaned. This sounded a whole lot worse than suspension. Of course, Suzette responded with another blubbering fit. Once again, the strange world of adults had no idea the torture they’d be inflicting on us.
“Is this amenable to everyone?” Mr. Brining eyed us all with lifted eyebrows and higher expectations.
Dad sighed, the first to answer. “It sounds more than fair to me.”
Mrs. Keating chimed in. “As long as…that girl never touches my Suzette again. Why, do you have any idea how much her teeth braces cost? It took—”
“I already offered to pay for any damages,” said Dad. “If there’re any damages. And I’d like to see a printed estimate and bill, should it come to that.”
“Fine.” Mrs. Keating crossed her legs, looked away.
“Girls?”
Dad nudged me.
“Okayyy,” I groaned.
“I guess,” spat Suzette.
Suzette and I stood, faced one another. “Reckon I’m sorry if you are,” I said.
“But I didn’t do anything!”
“Suzette! Apologize now,” demanded Mrs. Keating. “Even though we both know you didn’t provoke this attack.”
Suzette stomped her little Cinderella slippers. Through glassy eyes, she glowered at me, then wiped her nose. And stuck the offensive paw out to me.
Not to be outdone, I hawked into my palm and slapped it into Suzette’s.
“Dibby,” yelled Dad.
Suzette wrenched her hand away, held it close to the bow tying her stupid head to her stupider body.
“What? It’s like a blood oath,” I said, full of innocence and secretly proud of myself.
I suspected the adults in the room were fed up with us by now. They hurried the meeting to a conclusion.
The little demon princess and I glared at one another again before Dad gripped my hand and dragged me away.
And on that fateful day, an unholy alliance was born.
Chapter Six
Dad tossed my bike in the back of the hearse. After he jumped in, he chunked the door shut. Didn’t say a word, just stared straight ahead. Centered on James, straddled on his bike, looking back at us.
James raised a hand, heart-breaking almost in its hesitant nature, almost like saying “goodbye.”
And after what I’d done today, I fully suspected it was a forever goodbye. Dad intended on locking me in my room and swallowing the key ‘till I hit old maid-dom.
“Is he the reason for your behavior, Dibby?” Dad set free his quiet, scary voice, and I much preferred just plain quiet. “Did you get in a fight over that boy?”
“Who, James? No, Dad, he had nothing to do with it.” I stared at Dad, waiting for acknowledgment, any kind whatsoever. He just pulled out onto Main, eyes set ahead as if looking at me’d turn him into stone. “And it wasn’t really a fight,” I added beneath my breath.
That got his attention. “You’d better start showing some remorse, young lady, and I don’t mean maybe! Except for school, you’re grounded for two weeks. I mean it, no lollygagging, no hijinx, no cutting of school and definitely no fighting!” We travelled on in silence until Dad nearly shattered my eardrums with a sudden shout. “I’m absolutely beside myself!”
That’s one of those adult terms I’ve never understood. Not really. Physically, I sat beside him. But beyond the literal interpretation, I took it to mean he didn’t know what to do. And that bothered me. A lot.
If parenting downright spooked Dad, the thought absolutely terrified me. He was supposed to have all the answers. Of course he never told me as much, not a peep about his unspoken fears. But by piecing things together, picking up on little tidbits dropped in our chats, watching Dad’s behavior, I put meaning to the anxiety he couldn’t verbally express: without Mom around, he worried he didn’t know how to raise me, felt like he was doing a poor job of it.
And more often than not, the blame fell back on me.
“Dad…I’m sorry. Honest. It’s just…I dunno, I lost my temper. I know it was wrong—”
“Well, you’re right about that!”
“And I swear I won’t do it again. I’m really, really sorry.”
“You’re gonna be sorry, alright!”
After he stewed a bit, he settled into a calm. His shoulders sloped, his hands relaxed on the hearse’s wheel. “I hear you say you’re sorry, Dibby. I just…I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately.”
“Dad…I’m okay, you need to know that. And it’s not anything you’ve
done. You’re the best dad in the world.” I spread my hands far. “I’m just growing up. That’s all.”
“Fighting’s hardly a sign of maturing, Dibby.”
“I know. But…sometimes you just have to stick up for yourself.”
He nodded. “Like I told you. But there are ways to do it without fists.”
“Okay. Pinky promise.” Quickly—Dad didn’t dare relinquish the steering wheel for long—we linked pinkies. “And you know it’s true…about your being the best dad in the world. Everything I know, everything I do, who I am…is because of you. ‘Cept, of course, for hitting ol’ Suzette.”
He smiled. If he didn’t so firmly believe in the nine and three o’clock method of both hands on the steering wheel, I sorely think he would’ve reached out to take my hand in his.
* * *
Tip-toeing toward midnight, a sound stirred me awake. Lately, I’d taken to sleeping in my clothes in case Thomas Saunders came calling again. I bolted outta bed like it’d been tipped over and ran to the open window.
“Hey….hey, Dibby! Psst… Oh, hey!” Below, James just smiled at me. Torn between excitement and anger—the way James always sparked my battery—I jutted a finger to my lips.
“Quiet!” I spat. “You’re liable to wake the dead.” Just to make sure he hadn’t, I peered into the cornfields behind him. All seemed quiet and down-in-the-earth. “I’ll be down in a jiff.”
Kinda silly and probably moot, I quickly checked my image in the vanity mirror. Doggone cowlick just wouldn’t ever behave. I licked my fingertips, patted the hair down to no avail.
Mercifully, James hadn’t stirred Dad or the dead. I bypassed his bedroom and snuck outside.
When James saw me, he may as well have been calling the cattle home, loud as a rodeo. “There you are! Hope you got your winks—”
I strode straight up to him and clamped my hand over his big trap. “Shut your hole! Dad’s sleeping and I’m in enough trouble already.” An obedient nod. I released him. “What in Sam Hill are you doing here this time of night? No one’s up but ghosts and the bad element.”
James looked around, eyes wide. “Um…are they out? The ghosts?” He shook a thumb behind him at the corn field, not nearly as calm as he pretended.
“I don’t think so. At least not that I can tell. What’re you doing here?”
“Kinda a funny story. See—”
I could tell it was gonna take a while for him to spill his guts, so I took him by the hand, led him down the yard nearer the road. Far enough away to speak freely, we stopped beneath the large oak tree.
“Now we can talk. But keep your yapping down to a dull holler.”
James swept his hair from his eyes, gave my hand a little squeeze. Honestly, I didn’t even know I was still holding onto him, it felt so natural. But now that he called attention to it, I pulled away. “Tell you the truth, Dibs, I was sorta outta my tree about what you did at school today.”
“It’s my cross to bear. I’m a big girl.”
“Well, if I didn’t know that before, I sure do now. Wow, that was really something. You really put Suzette’s lights out.” He grinned. Wan moonlight struck his teeth just so, turning them an even deeper shade of yellow, corn yellow.
“Not proud of what I did, James. It was wrong. Even if the little hellion deserved it.”
“Yeah, right. But, man, what a gasser!”
“Is that why you’re here? To pat me on the back for laying out Suzette? I done told you I’m not proud of it.” Truth be told, I was proud. Just a little bit. But no doubt that was my ol’ childish self rearing her ugly-duckling face. “Besides, from what I saw today, you were getting along just fine with Suzette, flirting up a storm. Why don’t you go call on ol’ metal-mouth and leave me be? Just get up on your bike and hightail it outta here. Now, go on. Git.” I stuck my arm out, pointing the way.
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