“You can’t keep doing this to me. I’m your personal assistant.” Donna unexpectedly flipped into Myra mode. “I’m supposed to know when you take a fucking shit and now you’re not paying attention to the fucking detailed schedule I’ve fucking set up for you. You ungrateful SOB. I warned you two weeks ago and again this morning on your e-mail which, of course, you never fucking check, and now I’m calling to fucking remind you!”
Chase glanced over at Bud who apparently hadn’t paid any attention to the swearing as she had dug Chase’s BlackBerry from her backpack and was diligently scrolling through the schedule page. She pointed to the screen and fervently nodded.
“You have to stay away from Myra and the rest of the New York crowd. They’ve severely damaged your capacity for normal English.”
Donna burst into tears or that’s what Chase assumed from the horrible gulping noises she heard on the other end. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things. I’m positively evil.”
“No, you’re not. You are absolutely correct. We will have no problem making that appointment, and although I’d like to be more prepared for this meeting I’m sure with Bud’s help we will have no troubles. She does speak well.”
“Yes, thank goodness or we’d really be fucked. Oh, shit, I’ve got to stop using that word.”
“Don’t worry. A couple more days at home in the comforting arms of beloved friends and you’ll be good as new. You’re probably suffering from jet lag. If not, we’ll hire that freaky medicine man guy we met at the Tijeras Art Market and he can cleanse your soul or was it your colon? I can’t remember.” Chase glanced at the clock. They had to get going.
Donna, being the mind reader she was, said, “I know you have to get going. Gitana told me that you were going to a jumble sale to look for books and I hope you do find the OED, although it is highly unlikely. Just don’t forget the appointment. Oh, and by the way, Myra knows about the lesbian panel thing but she hasn’t told Eliza.”
“Oh, fuck. Sorry about that, Bud. How’d she find out about that?”
“I think she has a Chase Banter’s favorites link and is keeping really close tabs on you. She thinks it is, as she puts it, ‘a fucking top-drawer idea.’ She is elated that you are doing something public.”
“What about not making my lesbianism apparent to my straight readers? Remember, it’s supposed to be a big secret.”
“Myra thinks that whole thing is stupid. Lesbians read other mystery fiction and this is good for both your books. Besides, she says that most of the world ignores lezzies, as she calls them, so your straight readers won’t have a clue.”
“She’s probably right. Okay, off we go.”
“Don’t forget.”
“I won’t, I promise. I have Bud with me. She’s a junior you.”
“Tell her I love her.”
“Donna loves you.”
Bud blew her a kiss.
“Ditto on her end. Ta-ta.” Chase spun off the dirt shoulders and headed for the freeway.
“We have approximately two hours to assist at the jumble sale and acquire as many books as possible,” Chase said.
Bud nodded, her fingers flying on MapQuest as she researched the fastest route to the academy from the church.
“What are we going to say in your interview with the principal?” Chase said as she merged onto the freeway.
Bud shrugged.
“That’s not helpful.” Chase popped another Mento into her mouth.
“We’ll think of something and if we can’t we’ll call Gitana,” Bud said cheerfully.
“Maybe we’ll find a used book on interview techniques.”
“We can always hope. We will be in a church and God does work in mysterious ways. And please do not use the holy water stand as a drinking fountain like you did last time.”
When they finally found a parking space forty minutes later in the large but very full Church of the Blessed Virgin, Chase had worked herself into a panic attack. The drive had left her too much time to think about the interview with the principal.
“Just breathe,” Bud said as she dug around in her backpack for the phone. “I’m going to call Gitana.”
“Why don’t you ever call her Mom or Mama or one of those other parental names?” Chase asked as she took deep breaths and tried to quiet her palpitating heart.
Bud was dialing the phone. “Because then I’d have to call you ‘Dad’ and that would be too weird. Besides I find those paternal monikers rather pathetic and belittling. By referring to you and Gitana by those names I’m essentially saying that your complete identity is solely in reference to me which denies you an identity outside of that particular sphere of existence.”
“Why do I ask these questions?”
“Beats me.”
Gitana picked up. “What is it? Are you all right?”
“You have to stop treating these calls like it’s the bat phone. Can’t I just call to talk to you?” Bud said.
“Well, yes, of course. But what’s wrong?”
“Chase is having a panic attack and although I am aware of the basics of CPR I do not think I have the physical strength to save her life.”
“Hand her over.”
Bud gave the phone to Chase, who actually was breathing better by then.
“What’s wrong?”
“Bud’s appointment with the school principal is this afternoon and I don’t want to screw it up. Her entire future is in my hands.”
“Oh, no, I completely forgot. I would come, but I have that big shipment going out and I can’t risk snafus.”
“See, I told you it was serious.”
“Let me call you right back. Just stay put.”
“Okay.” Chase meant this until a van pulled up with its entire cargo area loaded with books. Like sale-struck shoppers they gravitated toward the vehicle and offered to help unload it. The elderly lady was happy for their assistance.
“I don’t know about the wee one here, but your help would be much appreciated.”
“I’ll get a cart,” Bud said, running for the church basement.
“She’s a wee one but a smart one,” the woman said.
“So where’d you get all the books?” Chase asked as she scanned the book titles while she unloaded the boxes.
“They were my brother’s. He’s late now and I wanted his library to go to a good cause. He would want it that way.”
“What did he do for a living or did he just like to read a lot?” Chase was already picking books out of the boxes and setting them aside on a piece of newspaper that she’d found in one of the boxes. The woman looked at her queerly. “I’m going to buy these ones…you know, for the wee one.”
“Can she read already?”
“Oh, yes. She’s a gifted child,” Chase said. This was the first time she’d actually said that out loud but like an addict—one who goes to any lengths to get the goods.
“Well, maybe she’ll grow up to be an English professor like my brother.”
“I hope so.”
Bud returned with one cart and Jacinda pushing another. Chase could tell from the color of Bud’s cheeks that Jacinda had kissed and pinched them raw, but Bud was good-natured and only rubbed them a little. It was only a matter of seconds before Chase received the same treatment.
“Oh, you two are so sweet, my blessed children, to come help an old woman. You make me so proud,” Jacinda cooed.
Chase and Bud looked down at their feet. They were horrid. They’d come to get books. Their charity was a farce. “We’re giving the books a good home, surely that counts for something,” Chase whispered to Bud.
Bud furrowed her brow for a moment and then nodded. She pulled out her rosary beads and did a few Hail Mary’s. “See, it’s all better now. Get scanning.”
“And she’s religious too,” said the elderly woman, who Jacinda introduced as Nelda Simons.
Jacinda patted Bud’s head.
“You two pick out whatever you want before we put the
m out and we’ll set a good price,” Nelda said.
“Yes, we always sell the paperbacks for fifty-cents and the hard covers for a dollar,” Jacinda said.
“Oh, I hope they all find homes,” Nelda said, putting her hand on her heart.
Jacinda patted her arm. “Of course they will.”
Meanwhile Chase was unloading the boxes and Bud was scanning titles. Bud leaned over and whispered, “Can I get an advance on my allowance?”
“The library fund is nonprofit and has its own generous allotment.”
“What are we not going to buy so Gitana won’t know how much we spent?” Bud said, pawing her way through another box.
“She understands our bibliomania. I’m thinking we’ll be creative with the grocery list and I won’t go into town as much so that will save on gas.”
“Good call.”
“Let’s get these inside so we can do another load,” Chase said, pulling on the cart. Bud followed behind carrying the stack they had so far. She could barely see.
Jacinda came up behind them and relieved Bud of some of her burden. “You don’t want a bad back like mine, mija.”
“Thank you,” Bud said, smiling angelically. That smile could send Jacinda into religious ecstasy.
Once inside, Bud and Jacinda unloaded the books and piled them on long fold-up tables while Chase made loads back and forth, plucking books out as she went along.
On the last load, Chase’s cell phone rang.
“What’s up?” Chase said.
“It’s all set. Donna will go with you. She doesn’t know why she didn’t think of it in the first place aside from the fact that you should be expected to handle it on your own, but of course you can’t and she hasn’t slept in two days. Tell Bud not to swear and don’t do anything abnormally precocious.”
“What are you talking about?” Chase said as she plucked Rembrandt’s Hat by Bernard Malamud from a stack Jacinda had just set down. She handed it to Bud, who put it in a box they had reserved for their stuff.
“Your appointment at the school. You haven’t forgotten already. What are you two doing?”
“We’re helping at the jumble sale. What do you think we’re doing?”
“Are there books there?”
“There’s a few. Grab that one, Bud. Henry James will go quick and we don’t have Washington Square.”
“Oh, great heaven and Mary, it’s bibliomania. You’re stoned on books.”
“I am not. Bud, get that one, we need more biographies, the Albert Schweitzer.”
“Chase, stop. Focus. You have to go to the school and you have to have it together. Is Jacinda there?”
“Yes, do you want to talk to her?” She needed to get off the phone if they were going to make it through the rest of the boxes before the sale started.
Chase got Jacinda, who’d moved on to help with the maternity clothes table. “Gitana wants to talk to you.” She handed her the phone.
“My daughter, she’s very religious too,” Jacinda told the women who were helping her fold and display the clothes, referring to Gitana’s newly acquired swearing of oaths when the situation warranted it. “She’s always giving up great prayers to our beloved savior and saints, especially the Virgin.” She lifted the phone to her ear. “Si?”
Jacinda nodded, promised, nodded again, promised again and said, “I love you, mija” and handed Chase the phone. “You must leave in forty-five minutes, go to the school, act as normal as is possible and if you mess this up you will both be grounded for the rest of your lives. I think she means it,” Jacinda said, doing a Hail Mary as a precaution.
Bud looked up alarmed. Jacinda came over and gave her a hug. “We can do this. Look for your books and we’ll get you out of here or, Great Mother of God, we will all find ourselves in a purgatory not of our own making.” She crossed herself and Chase and Bud followed suit, then she set the alarm on the enormous multifunction watch that Bud had given her for Christmas.
It was then that Bud spotted the book in Nelda’s hand. She let out a little screech and flew to the box Nelda was unloading. The box was enormous and it had taken Chase, Nelda and Jacinda to ease it onto the cart. Chase and Bud had been so busy unloading the other boxes they’d forgotten about the mother lode of the big box. Chase came over and the three of them peered into the bottom of the box—there, neatly stacked, were nineteen more leather-bound books with Oxford English Dictionary embossed on the cover. They were like golden eggs nestled in a cardboard box.
“We’ll take those, all of them,” Chase blurted. Then, she calmed herself. “What do you want for them? I mean they are certainly worth more than the other hardback books.” She didn’t want to seem too eager, but she wanted them in her possession before anyone else got ahold of them.
Nelda picked one of them up and gave it a cursory glance. “You want the whole set?”
“Oh, yeah, we might as well. Don’t you think, Bud? She collects dictionaries. She likes to learn new words.” Chase picked up one of the books and found her hands shaking. She handed it to Bud, who stared at it reverentially, running her fingers along the gold embossing. She had tears in her eyes.
Nelda noticed and stroked Bud’s hair. “Oh, mija, you must have these.” She looked at Chase. “Can you afford twenty-five dollars?”
“Oh, that’s too little for those,” Chase said, her conscience getting the better of her.
“I think we need to talk,” Bud said, grabbing Chase’s hand and pulling her to one side. “We’ll be right back,” she told Nelda.
“What are you doing? We have to buy those before someone else gets them,” Chase said, watching with panic as Nelda unloaded the box.
“Offering too much is going to tip her off as to their worth and maybe she won’t want to sell them,” Bud whispered fiercely.
Chase looked at her in alarm. She had inadvertently created a maniacal bibliophile. Obsession was a bad thing—even if it was books. “This is for the church and cheating God in a church—his own house, for Christ’s sake—is turning your back on God.”
“You’re not even sure of your faith,” Bud muttered.
“I like to hedge my bets,” Chase retorted. Nelda was looking at them.
“We, or rather you, will give the church a generous donation to make up for it,” Bud suggested.
Chase struggled for a moment and then assented. “All right. Here take the money and pull it out of your purse and make it look like you’re spending your last sou,” Chase said, giving her the money.
“What’s a sou?” Bud said, tucking the money away in her plastic-coated Curious George coin purse.
“Foreign money. It’s always in novels—it’s a device to indicate the dire straits of the protagonist. We’ll look it up in the OED when we get home. Quick!”
As they paid Nelda for the OED and thirty-two paperbacks, Jacinda’s alarm went off. “Mijas, you must go. Hurry!” Jacinda helped them load the car and Bud hugged Nelda, who told her to be a good girl and grow up smart. “You could be the next Nancy Pelosi,” Nelda said.
When they got in the car, Bud asked, “Who’s Nancy Pelosi?”
“She was the Speaker of the House. I think you might already be smarter, but God forbid if you grow up to be a politician.”
“I’d get more funding for libraries and put a stop forever to the banning of books.”
“I love you,” Chase said.
“Did you like my crocodile tears?”
Chase was pulling out of the church parking lot. “You didn’t.”
“You wanted them, didn’t you?” Bud pulled up the GPS for the academy as they had always gone to the school from the East Mountains not from the South Valley.
“We’re probably both going to go to hell for this,” Chase said, turning on Atrisco and heading for Central.
“We need to go the other way. The school is on the north end of Tramway. Think of the view of the Sandia Mountains I’ll have as I toil in the pursuit of knowledge.”
Chase pulled in
to the parking lot of the latest used car lot and flipped around. “I can’t believe you played Nelda like that.”
“It was necessary. I had to have the OED. It’s for my education,” Bud said, stroking the volume she’d plucked off the top of the stack. “Look at it. It’s so beautiful.”
“How much of this playacting stuff do you do?” Chase inquired, suddenly aware that Nelda might not have been the first person to have been treated to Bud’s Machiavellian behavior.
“Only when I have to.” Bud had the volume opened and was reading the definitions with evident glee.
“Which is?”
“Whenever I want something.”
“Oh, my God!”
“Relax. Gitana has radar for it. You’re the only one I can sucker punch.”
“Great.” Chase made a mental note to ask Gitana about the radar thing.
Chapter Fourteen—Consequences
In everything one must consider the end.—La Fontaine
Chase and Bud sat in front of the academy with dolorous faces. They were waiting for Donna, who had yet to appear. They had three minutes until the interview with Principal Melinda Marshall. Chase stared up at the great stone archway that housed massive wooden doors with a heraldic shield on them that had something to do with the original founders of the school. She’d read an account in the brochure but could not remember it. Normally, she would have memorized the entire brochure cover to cover, however, much to her shame, she had been remiss because of all her other obligations.
Chase Banter [02] Marching to a Different Accordion Page 13
