by Dyan Sheldon
The meeting ended in high spirits. The gleeful gaggles of girls departed, bubbling with energy and eagerness, and Ms Kimodo and Cody left together talking about how best to approach Dr Firestone, leaving Clemens, Waneeda and Joy Marie to put the room back in order.
“What have I been saying?” Joy Marie grins when the door shuts for the last time.
Clemens and Waneeda, who are setting down a desk, both look over at her.
“Never say die?” guesses Clemens.
“Miracles do happen?” ventures Waneeda.
“Well, kind of.” Joy Marie snaps a chair into place. “What I meant was, I said that the club was going to be saved and it is! We’re out of the woods.”
Clemens brushes something invisible to the human eye from the top of the desk. “Maybe.”
Joy Marie puts her hands on her hips. “Maybe?” she repeats. “What do you mean, maybe? We have all these new members… We have this great plan… We’re actually going to have Dr Firestone with us instead of against us, which should make a nice change…”
Clemens’ mouth shrugs. “I just mean … maybe. As in, maybe we’re not out of the woods. Maybe we’re just in a clearing.” What Clemens means is that he’s afraid from the speed with which things have already changed that they could lose their focus. Making the club viable is one thing; making it unrecognizable is something else. “It’s only day one, you know.”
Waneeda pops another chocolate caramel into her mouth and stuffs the wrapper in her pocket. “Things can still go wrong,” she says.
“Oh, thanks, Waneeda. That’s really helpful. I bet Columbus wished he’d had you with him when he set sail for the West Indies.” Joy Marie’s face flushes with annoyance. “You don’t say anything throughout the whole meeting, and now you’ve decided to be all negative as usual.”
“I’m not being negative.” She is. As it happens, this is partly because she agrees with Clemens. Although her own motives are not beyond reproach, Waneeda can see that there’s a difference between one person joining the club because of Cody Lightfoot and twelve joining for the same reason. It’s a little like building your house on sand. Or a lake. The foundations are bound to shift in time, to crumble and collapse. But Waneeda’s negativity also owes something to Sicilee and Maya. The state of bliss with which the meeting began for Waneeda ended as soon as she realized that there was going to be no way of ignoring the two of them. It was hard trying not to notice them sitting on either side of Cody like particularly self-satisfied bookends, but it was possible. When they popped up together like slices from a toaster, carrying on so much that Cody wound up going back to his seat, Waneeda knew that there was no way of pretending they weren’t there. She could see that every meeting was going to be dominated by them out-Greening each other. I’m Greener than you are… No, I’m Greener than you are… No, I am… No, I am… Well, I’m so Green that I’m going to change my name to Chlorophyll… Oh, yeah? Well, I’m going to change my name to Spinach! Which means that every second of happiness given by her proximity to Cody and his smile is going to be soured by their presence. “I’m only saying…”
“Well, don’t.” Joy Marie grabs another chair. “If you don’t have anything good to say, don’t say anything at all.”
“But Waneeda’s right.” Clemens looks up from the task of straightening the desk so it is perfectly aligned with the one in front of it, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “OK, so there were a lot of new people—”
“Which is what we wanted,” Joy Marie reminds him. “Remember what Dr Firestone said? Expand or die?”
“How could I forget?” Although it is a talent that Clemens keeps fairly quiet, he can do an impersonation of Dr Firestone that is so accurate you’d swear he was wearing one of the principal’s lurid ties. “But what I started to say was that I don’t think that most of them are very serious. They didn’t seem to know very much. I’m not sure how committed they really are. Like those two girls…” There is no need to specify which two girls he means. “Didn’t the one with the short hair and the nose ring come to a meeting last year?”
“Uh huh.” Joy Marie slips two more chairs into place. “But she didn’t come back.”
“And who thought she would?” asks Clemens. “She slept through the whole thing.”
“You were lucky,” mutters Waneeda as they lift another desk. “She’s a lot more fun asleep than awake.”
“OK, but why did she come today if she’s not really interested?” Clemens is looking at Joy Marie. “That’s what I mean. What was she doing here?”
Joy Marie looks at Waneeda.
Waneeda is looking at the ceiling. If he figures it out for himself, fine. But if he doesn’t, she’s definitely not going to be the one to tell him why. He’s in advanced maths, for Pete’s sake. He can add one and one and get two.
“Well, you know…” Apparently, it also isn’t going to be Joy Marie who explains to Clemens why this particular dawn has broken and this miracle has occurred. This is not to protect Waneeda, of course, but the club. Clemens has so many principles that he might kick out all the new members if he discovers the truth. “People change.”
“Mountains change faster,” says Clemens. “And anyway, what about the other girl? The pink one?” Clemens, shuffling backwards, looks over his shoulder. “Isn’t that the girl who threatened me that time?”
Waneeda swallows the last morsel of caramel. “She’s a witch. You’re lucky she didn’t turn you into a toad.”
Joy Marie slams a chair down very close to Waneeda’s feet. “Well, I guess she’s changed, too,” she says brightly. “That was last year. She must’ve matured.”
Clemens looks doubtful. “Besides threatening me, she told me to stuff my campaign up my finite resources.”
“I’d like to stuff her up a finite resource,” mumbles Waneeda.
“You know, you two don’t have to be so down on them,” says Joy Marie. “They’ve joined, that’s what’s important. And they and all the other new ones seem pretty excited. Why can’t you just leave it at that? We have a chance to start all over with these new members and really do some good.”
Clemens smirks. “You mean if all these new members come back.”
Joy Marie and Waneeda exchange a corner-of-the-eye look.
“Oh, they’ll be back,” says Waneeda.
You couldn’t keep any of them away with dogs.
And that, of course, includes Waneeda.
Chapter Nineteen
Seen to be Green
Some girls might be daunted by the idea of changing from a fur-loving carnivore into a recycling vegetarian more or less overnight, but Sicilee saw no problem.
Kristin, Loretta and Ash all thought she’d lost her mind.
“You mean you’re going Green?” Kristin hadn’t looked so horrified since her last bad haircut. “I know he’s gorgeous and everything, Siss, but you can’t be serious.”
Loretta and Ash agreed. “Maybe if he was a big movie star or something,” said Loretta.
“Or a prince,” said Ash.
“Sweet Mary!” Sicilee moaned. “Do you guys read the words or do you just look at the pictures? Watch my lips! I am not really going Green. I’m just going to act like I am.” What could be easier? “You know, like wearing tinted lenses or a wig. It’s only for show.” She may look like an angel, but she thinks like a politician.
“So you’re not really scarfing tofu and hugging trees?” checked Ash.
“Of course not. The only thing I want to hug is Cody and I’m only meat-free when I’m at school. I’d rather give up water than give up meat.”
Giving up water would probably be easier.
Sicilee decided that, since Cody always brings his lunch from home, she should bring hers, too – forging yet another link in the chain of love that will eventually join them. How could he not go out with a girl who carries her lunch from home in a Green, insulated bag? Unfortunately, the Kewe’s refrigerator contains a lot more to drink that isn’t wate
r than things to eat that didn’t once walk, swim or fly. Today, for example, the only vegetables Sicilee could find (unless you count the bean sprouts in the leftovers from last night’s takeout) were some limp leaves of lettuce, a small tomato and a carrot that had been in the chill drawer so long it could almost bend.
Having to put something together for lunch is one of the reasons that (unknowingly following the treacherous path forged by Maya Baraberra) Sicilee has been running late all week. The other is that, now she’s in competition with Maya, Sicilee has to look not only more perfect than she usually does (a fairly impossible task without major surgery), but more environmentally friendly as well. She spends at least an extra half hour on her make-up every morning, so that she looks completely natural and smells like something made by God rather than a lab. She spends even more time scouring her wardrobe for clothes with some kind of plant or animal motif to show that she cares about more than designer labels. Today, however, she’s left the floral tops and cat socks at home and is wearing brown, the colour of soil.
Her lunch bag artistically poking out of her backpack, Sicilee hurls herself from the Cadillac, slamming the door behind her. In fact, she’s been running so late that Kristin, tired of hanging around waiting for her every morning, got a ride from her mother today. “You know, school’s not just about classes,” Kristin informed her. “I need to have some interactive time with my friends, too.”
Oh, tell me something I don’t know, thinks Sicilee. As if interactive time isn’t just what she wants herself. Desperately. Interactive time with Cody Lightfoot. Hanging out in the hall before homeroom. Laughing and talking. Comparing notes on Brussels sprouts. But getting Cody by himself is like trying to get an audience with the Pope. If he isn’t mulching along with a gang of boys, he’s being escorted by a guard of grinning girls – Maya often just feet behind him, waiting for her moment to pounce.
Tomorrow, Sicilee suddenly decides, she’ll wear all green. She doesn’t know why she didn’t think of this sooner. Then, when Cody looks her way, he will immediately think of forests and fields of tall grass waving in the wind without even realizing it – and how much she, like he, cares about saving and protecting the environment. Thinking about Cody as she hurries towards the entrance, she is practically on top of him before she sees him. And he’s alone! He’s totally alone! Sicilee glances over her shoulder, but for once Maya isn’t in pursuit. The prize is hers! She trots the last few paces.
“Hi!” Sicilee falls into step beside him, smiling like a dozen suns. His answering “Hi” has a lot in common with a welcome sign, but Sicilee is too excited to notice. “I am, like, so glad to run into you,” she gushes. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the meeting on Monday. I was, like, so impressed by everything you said.”
“Thanks.” His smile sits on his face like a coat on a vacant chair. It’s possible that he recognizes her. But it’s also possible that he doesn’t. Just as the sun shines down indiscriminately on city and village, and on rich and poor, with the same intensity, so Cody smiles on people he doesn’t know with the same warmth he shows his best friends. “What’s important is that everything I said is true.”
“Oh, I know, I know…” Sicilee leans a little closer. “I especially liked what you said about having fun and not alienating people?”
“Yeah … well … I hope I didn’t make it sound too much like a party.” Somehow, she never noticed the dimples before. “Like I said, these are very serious issues we’re dealing with.”
“Oh, I know, I know…” Her arm brushes against his. “It’s just that, you know, before you came, the Environmental Club was about as much fun as—” As what? She doesn’t want to say something like “as watching educational TV”, which her friends would think is funny. She wants an image that will subtly show him that they’re on exactly the same page.
“As an oil slick?” Cody offers.
“Exactly! That’s exactly what I was going to say. As much fun as an oil slick.” She gives him a conspiratorial look. “And as for alienating people – well, to be totally honest, and I know he’s your friend and everything, but—”
“Clem’s the man,” says Cody. “Like I said at the meeting, if you need facts and statistics to back up your arguments, he’s got all the dope.”
Or is the dope…
“Oh, I know, I know…” chitters Sicilee. “And I’m sure that could come in really handy … but don’t you think that, besides always being so depressing, he can be a major bully, too? Do this… Don’t do that… He even wanted to stop us all from drinking soda! Can you believe that?” She touches his arm. “Some people find it very off-putting.”
“I don’t,” says Cody. “I admire his passion. He’s a true man of principles.” He half-turns, smiling impishly. “But, even Clem’d tell you, he’s about as diplomatic as a wounded bear.”
They’re still laughing as they step into the building.
Things are suddenly going so well that Sicilee can be forgiven for thinking that they are going to continue going so well.
But, of course, they aren’t.
They’re barely through the door when Maya Baraberra emerges from the blur of students like a shark from a shoal of minnows. Maya now dresses exclusively in clothes that have been previously worn by someone else and has added a new and fairly extensive range of buttons to her book bag.
“Cody! Sicilee!” Any passing stranger would think they were her two best friends.
“Hey,” says Cody. He doesn’t recognize Maya either.
Sicilee merely maintains her usual smile.
“Whoowhee … get a look at you! Talk about being in touch with the Earth!” Maya, for a change, is not looking at Cody. Her eyes move from Sicilee’s boots to the coat and finally stop as they meet Sicilee’s eyes. “That’s not real leather you’re wearing, is it?” she asks doubtfully.
Trust the Barbarian not to be able to tell the difference between real leather and some cheap imitation. “Of course it is,” purrs Sicilee. “It’s Italian.”
“Oh, wow. Really?” Maya scrunches up her face so tightly that her nose ring seems to be looking at Sicilee, too. “It’s just that … you know … I thought you said you were vegan – or at least a vegetarian.”
As smoothly as she can, and still smiling, Sicilee attempts to climb out of the trap Maya laid for her. “I’m not eating them, you know. I’m just wearing them.”
“But still… You’ve got all that wasted land and water … and the carbon emissions during production … and the environmental degradation … and all the toxins of the dyes. I mean, it’s good that they didn’t come from China with all the pollution and slave labour and everything, but Italy is still pretty far away…”
Whereas Maya’s clothes obviously came from a thrift store.
Sicilee smiles on. “I only just became a vegan. I can’t throw out my entire wardrobe overnight.”
“Oh, of course you can’t…” agrees Maya. “What are you supposed to do if you don’t have any shoes or coats that aren’t leather?”
“And what about you?” Sicilee glares down at the frayed and dirty shoes on Maya’s feet. “Those aren’t bedroom slippers you’re wearing.”
“No, they’re not.” There are few things that make a smile sweeter than triumph. “They’re actually totally vegan. Like me.” Maya swings one foot in the air so Sicilee can get a good look. “That’d be hemp and reclaimed tyres, not dead cow.”
Merciful Mother! Wearing somebody’s old tyres – it’s like admitting you eat from the garbage.
“They look like you made them yourself,” sneers Sicilee. And can only hope that she sounds as disgusted and unkind as she feels.
“Oy! Wait a minute. Pull back on the rope there.”
They are so intent on insulting each other that Sicilee and Maya’s attention misplaced Cody for a few seconds, but now they turn to find him grinning at them. Or at least grinning at Sicilee.
“I have that exact same pair of shoes.”
Sicilee forces herself to laugh, too. “Well, I’m sure they look much better on you.”
The day never improves after that. For once, Sicilee runs into Cody everywhere she goes. Now actively trying to avoid him, she has only to turn a corner or glance down a hallway to make him appear. And every time she sees him, she knows that he sees her leather boots, as conspicuous as a pair of alligators. The other person she sees constantly, of course, is Maya Baraberra. Maya, who normally tries to avoid Sicilee with the same thoroughness with which Sicilee tries to avoid her, gives her a big cheesy grin and calls out, “Hey, Sicilee, I really love your boots!”
No wonder Sicilee couldn’t wait to go home.
And home is where she is now, standing on a stool to reach the top shelves.
Several blocks away, Kristin sits on her bed painting her toenails while she talks to Sicilee on the phone. “Where are you?” asks Kristin. “You sound like you’re in a cave or something.”
“I’m in my closet.”
Kristin dips the brush in the tiny bottle, carefully wiping off the excess on the rim. “Doing what, exactly?”
“I’m trying to find something to wear on my feet that isn’t responsible for the horrible death of some stupid cow, what do you think?”
“Didn’t I tell you it was going to be trickier than you thought?”
“Sweet Mary!” Sicilee wails. “What am I supposed to do? Go barefoot in the middle of winter?” She doesn’t even want to think about handbags.
“You could always wear hightops or something like that,” suggests Kristin.
No, she couldn’t.
“And look like the Barbarian? I’d rather wear paper bags on my feet.”
“Well, what about that fake leather stuff vegetarians and vegans wear then?” tries Kristin.
