Queen of the Toilet Bowl

by Frieda Wishinsky

  “I didn’t take her watch,” I blurted out.

  “I understand this is distressing to you,” said Mr. Bowman. “It distresses me too. You have no record of misbehavior, but I must tell you Karin was quite convinced of your guilt.”

  Mr. Bowman was distressed! Ha! It wasn’t his neck on the line. He didn’t care about me. I remembered how abrupt he was when I first registered at the school with Mom.

  “Will you be able to arrive at school on time?” he had asked me then. “The school is some distance from your ... apartment.” He knew we weren’t part of the upscale neighborhood the school was located in.

  “I’ll be on time,” I had barked at him. Mom said she could hear the anger in my voice.

  “You have to be careful,” she cautioned me when we left his office. “When you’re poor and an immigrant you have to be especially careful of your behavior. People make judgments.”

  “I don’t care,” I told her defiantly. “He can think whatever he wants. I have every right to go to this school. Just as much right as the rich kids.”

  Despite my words I knew Mom was right. It just wasn’t fair. Why did people judge Karin and me differently? If I had accused Karin with no evidence would Karin be hauled into the office? Or would Mr. Bowman assume that because her family has money that she wouldn’t possibly steal?

  Just because you have money doesn’t mean you won’t steal. What about those heads of companies who take huge salaries and bonuses when their companies are losing money and lower level employees are being fired? Isn’t that stealing? The newspapers were full of stories about people like that. What about famous actresses who shoplift? They don’t need the stuff they take, but they take things anyway.

  “I accept your words,” said Mr. Bowman, “but I can’t close the matter yet. Stealing is a serious offense. If you have anything more to tell me on the subject, I hope you will.”

  “I don’t,” I said. I knew I sounded angry, but I couldn’t help it. Mr. Bowman thought I was guilty and that I needed to confess. How dare he?

  “Good day to you then,” he said, dismissing me.

  I walked out shaking, less because of Karin than because of Mr. Bowman. To him, I was half-guilty just because Karin had accused me.

  Perhaps I should have told him why Karin wanted to get me in trouble. But I had no evidence, just a feeling that Karen wanted me out of the play so she could have my part. How could anyone be that awful? A wave of anger hit me so hard I felt nauseous. Suddenly I wanted to run away from school. I wanted to hide from the people, accusing me with the look in their eyes. I knew that Karin was not going to give up.

  It sounded like a plot in a movie. Maybe it was a movie. Only I wished I wasn’t starring in it.

  chapter nine

  I sat at the kitchen table and put down the book about Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution I’d just read. It threw everything I believed out the window.

  Marie Antoinette was hated not just because she was a rich aristocrat but because she was a foreigner — an Austrian princess married to the French King.

  Marie Antoinette even dressed more simply so she wouldn’t be considered frivolous and flighty, but the French people still hated her. What really sealed her fate, though, were vicious rumors, especially the diamond necklace affair Mr. Brewster had mentioned.

  A Cardinal de Rohan got mixed up with a con artist, Madame La Motte, who pretended to be Marie Antionette. Madame La Motte told the Cardinal that she (the queen) wanted a very expensive necklace. The Cardinal wanted to gain the queen’s favor, so he bought the necklace and gave it to Madame La Motte, assuming Marie Antionette would pay for it.

  Of course, Marie Antoinette knew nothing about the necklace, and Madame La Motte had no intention of paying for it. Instead Madame La Motte gave the necklace to her con artist husband who sold it in London.

  When the truth finally came out, Madame La Motte was arrested, imprisoned, and even flogged and branded. Eventually she escaped to London where she spread nasty rumors about Marie Antoinette. Although it was proven in court that Marie Antoinette had nothing to do with the whole business, the people in France still believed she was guilty. The mob dragged her to the guillotine. She faced her fate bravely, but they still hated her and then they beheaded her.

  The more I read, the more I worried. Marie Antoinette was a queen, and even she was powerless to stop false rumors. If she couldn’t, how could I? I knew that once the rumor genie is out of the bottle, it’s hard to stuff it back in.

  I was sure that I, not Karin, was going to be dragged to the guillotine.

  I was sure that Karin, not I, was going to lead the crowd in chanting, “Off with her head.”

  Stop! I thought. Don’t make yourself crazy. You are not Marie Antoinette. This is not eighteenth century France. No one is going to cut your head off. Maybe not, but they were going to try to make my life miserable. And they had no right.

  By the time Mom and Lucas arrived home I had calmed down, but the worry still nagged at me. I didn’t say anything to them. I couldn’t worry Mom, and Lucas was too immature to talk to about anything important. I needed someone I could trust.

  Liz! I dialed her number, but the answering machine was on. I didn’t leave a message.

  It was a long, long night of tossing and turning again. The clock kept ticking the hours away as I tried not to think. I must have finally fallen asleep, but when I woke up my head felt like it was full of cotton. The thought of going to school made me feel nauseous again. I drank some water, but the nausea lingered like bad breath.

  You did nothing, I told myself on the bus. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re innocent. Act innocent. Don’t feel embarrassed.

  By the time I walked the two blocks to school, I felt more in control. But the minute I walked into the school building, I knew everyone was staring at me. All the way to my locker I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

  I was sure Karin had told everyone about her watch.

  I walked to my locker, trying not to look at anyone. My hands shook as I opened my locker door.

  “Hi Renata.”

  I spun around. It was Liz.

  “I guess you know what Karin’s saying,” said Liz gently.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Is it all over the school?”

  “Every corner,” said Liz, “but not everyone believes her. I don’t.”

  A lump stuck in my throat. Oh Liz, I thought. I couldn’t say anything for a minute.

  “I didn’t take the watch,” I finally mumbled.

  “I know that. You couldn’t, but you need to figure out what to do. Karin’s on a rampage.”

  The bell rang. I almost jumped. “Sorry,” I said. “This whole thing makes me ...”

  “Crazy?” said Liz.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “We can talk more at lunch,” said Liz, squeezing my hand. Then she ran off to her class.

  I walked down the hall to my class. The walls in the hall felt narrow and tight like I was walking in a box with razor-sharp edges. I tried not to pay attention, but I could see the looks on people’s faces. I could hear their whispers.

  I wanted to run out of the building, but my legs wouldn’t let me. And suddenly my anger wouldn’t either.

  How dare Karin do this, I thought. I can’t let her get away with this, but what can I do?

  I drifted through the morning as if I was walking through a fog. I took notes. I listened. I kept my eyes firmly on my books, but I was shaking inside.

  Finally it was lunch. I passed Karin’s table, but I didn’t look down. She ignored me.

  “Thanks again, Liz,” I said as I slid into the seat beside her at lunch.

  “For what?” asked Liz, biting into her tuna sandwich.

  “For believing me. For not running to the other side of the caf, for ... ”

  “Come on. We’re friends. Of course I believe you. And I know Karin. Last year she borrowed my notes for a history essay and our essays were almost identical. Of
course she denied it when the teacher called us on it. She even hinted that it might be my fault.”

  “Wow,” I said relieved that Liz knew how sneaky and mean Karin could be. “But you seem to get along with her. She doesn’t bother you the way she bothers me.”

  “I’m not sure why. She likes to vary her victims, and I guess I wasn’t juicy enough for her.”

  “But I am.”

  “Not because of your personality but because, well, you know, you’re from Brazil and you’re talented. Karin smells an opportunity to be Maria in the show and you’re the only one standing in her way.”

  chapter ten

  They were whispering, but I heard every word. I was in a study carrel at the back of the library reading about Marie Antoinette. I knew they couldn’t see me.

  “She took it?” said one of them.

  “Yes. Karin saw something shiny sticking out of her bag. She’s sure it’s her watch. She says Renata’s been eyeing it all week.”

  “Does the principal know?”

  “He called her down to the office. Karin says she’ll probably be suspended. Karin said her mother thinks they should call the police and search her apartment. My mother would kill me if she found out I stole anything.”

  “Do you think she’s a thief?”

  “I don’t know. She looks normal, but who knows. Karin says she’s poor and will do anything to get what she wants. Karin said Ms. Watson felt sorry for her and that’s why she gave her the part of Maria in the play.”

  “I bet she’ll lose the part now.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad I’m not her.”

  I wanted to shout at them. I wanted to tell them they didn’t know anything about me or the watch. I wanted to scream Karin is a liar. She’s making things up just to get me in trouble. I wanted to shout at them so much it hurt, but I just sat silently as if I was frozen.

  Finally I heard chairs scrape against the floor. Then quiet. I peeked out. The librarian was alone, stamping returned books. I grabbed my coat and raced out the library, out the school and all the way home. Halfway home it started to drizzle, but I didn’t care.

  I didn’t care about anything that night, but when I woke up the next morning I felt different. I was determined to say something about Karin. Someone had to believe me.

  “Hi Renata,” said Cheryl, as I stuffed my jacket into my locker. “Did you hear about Karin’s watch?”

  “Yes,” I said, ready for Cheryl to tell me more nasty accusations Karin had made about me.

  “Then you know I found it,” said Cheryl.

  “What?”

  I spun around.

  “It was in her locker the whole time. I saw it in a corner when she asked me to hold her books so she could get her gym clothes.”

  Relief flooded over me. “Oh,” was all I could dribble out.

  “Karin wasn’t thrilled that I found her watch even though she made such a fuss about it being lost,” said Cheryl. “And it wasn’t even a real designer watch. My mom bought a watch just like it at the airport for fifteen dollars. Anyway, Karin just picked it up, stuffed it into her pocket, grabbed her books out of my hand and slammed her locker shut. It was weird.” Cheryl laughed. “I guess she can’t say you took it now.”

  “No,” I said, laughing with relief. “Thanks.”

  “See you,” said Cheryl.

  Just then Liz ran over. “Did you hear?” she said, hugging me. “Thank goodness for Cheryl.”

  I nodded. “But what next? Karin still wants my part.”

  “She’s still just the understudy,” said Liz. “All you have to do is be sure you don’t get sick and you’re fine.”

  “I won’t get sick,” I told her. “And even if I do, I’m going to be in that play, no matter what. Even if I break both my arms and legs, I’m going to be Maria. Even if they have to carry me out in my bed. I’m going to be on that stage, singing my guts out.”

  Liz laughed. “I can see it now. Two strong men will lift you across the stage. The audience will applaud as you are brought in, weak but determined to go on. It will be dramatic. It will be heart-wrenching. It will be ...”

  “A showstopper!” I said, laughing.

  In a minute Liz and I were laughing so much we couldn’t stop. Tears rolled down our cheeks. Our stomachs shook.

  It felt so good to laugh.

  “We have our first rehearsal after school today,” I said after dabbing my eyes with a crumpled tissue I found wedged in a pocket of my jeans.

  “I’ve volunteered to help with the props and painting,” said Liz.

  “Will you be at rehearsals today?”

  “Yep. Me and that cute guy Doug, and Rob and Bea, and maybe Lucy.”

  The lunch bell rang.

  “We’d better go. See ya!” called Liz.

  “See ya.”

  Maybe finally things will calm down, I thought as I walked to my next class. Maybe Karin will leave me alone.

  Then I felt a sharp jab on my shoulder. “Hey!” I said, turning around.

  It was Karin.

  “You think you’re so smart but you’re a stupid loser,” she snarled.

  “And you’re just my understudy,” I said, walking away. I knew my words would only make her more furious and probably meaner, but I didn’t care. I felt like I’d won a gold medal at the Olympics.

  chapter eleven

  Rehearsals began on time. Ms. Watson was a stickler for punctuality. “Think of yourselves as professionals,” she told us. “And professionals show up on time.”

  To prove her point, when Randall Jones sauntered in twenty minutes late in the middle of my reading, she barked, “If you’re late again, Randall, you’re out. Go on, Renata. Keep reading.”

  So I did, and so did everyone else. As we read, Ms. Watson said things like, “More expression. Slow down! Pump it up. Terrific. Keep that tone. Louder. ”

  To Randall she said, “Remember you’re a Nazi. Not a saint. Give us your meanest look and voice.”

  “Yes ma’am,” said Randall and his tone immediately turned nastier.

  As for me, Ms. Watson said, “Louder, Renata. Don’t be afraid to let your voice out. Fill this auditorium.” So I tried, and when I did, Karin giggled and poked her neighbor as if I’d just burped in public. I wanted to tape her mouth shut.

  But then something happened. Suddenly I didn’t care. Suddenly I felt that Karin couldn’t hurt me. The whole watch incident was over. And I loved being on stage. I felt like I owned the auditorium. I felt like a Broadway star.

  “That’s the way,” Ms. Watson said when I finished singing “Climb Every Mountain.” Ms. Watson was smiling and nodding. I smiled back.

  “Ms. Watson,” Karin called out.

  “Yes,” said Ms. Watson.

  “Who’ll take my part if, by some unfortunate circumstance, Renata can’t be here on opening night and I have to take her part?”

  “Good question,” said Ms. Watson. “How about you, Liz?”

  “Me?” said Liz. “I can’t sing.”

  “You can mouth the words. The other nuns will carry you. Just memorize Karin’s lines.”

  “I can memorize,” said Liz, “as long as I don’t have to sing.”

  So there it was. Karin was my under-study, and Liz was Karin’s understudy.

  “Rehearsal tomorrow. Same time. Same place. Be on time,” Ms. Watson shot Randall a sharp look.

  “Yes ma’am,” he saluted, clicking his heels together Nazi style.

  “As for all of you, start memorizing your lines,” said Ms. Watson. “You can still read from the script but begin to learn the words. Make them your own. We only have a month until show time. Let’s make every rehearsal count.”

  “Wanna get together on the weekend?” Liz asked me on our way out. “We can rehearse our lines together.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I could come over to your place on Saturday morning. My mom’s dropping my brother off at karate near you,” said Liz.

  “I ... well
... sure,” I said, regretting my words as soon as they popped out. Liz had never been to our apartment. What would she think of it? It was small and cramped. Mom slept on a pull-out couch in the living room. Lucas and I had two minuscule rooms and all of our furniture was Salvation Army meets dollar store. Mom dressed things up the best she could and it was clean and neat, except for Lucas’s room, but you couldn’t miss the chipped stove, the ancient fridge and the burn marks on the kitchen counter. Mom had complained to the landlord, but he didn’t care.

  “Lady,” he said, “you got cheap rent. What do you expect, the Waldorf?”

  But how could I tell Liz not to come to my apartment. How could I say I wished we lived better?

  chapter twelve

  “I’ll be at your place at two o’clock on Saturday. Is that okay?” asked Liz.

  “Two is fine,” I agreed. “See ya.”

  I tried not to worry about our apartment that night, although I did tell Lucas that he’d better clean the junk off his bed or I’d never forgive him.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Lucas. He made a half-hearted attempt at shoving his baseball, books and action figures into a corner.

  Saturday afternoon Mom baked my favorite cookies, biscoito de nata. The smell of butter and sugar filled the apartment like perfume.

  Liz arrived fifteen minutes late.

  “Hi,” she said breathlessly. “We got lost. I thought you lived three blocks down. But anyway, here we are.”

  I introduced Liz’s mom to my mom and they smiled at each other. Liz’s mom didn’t blink an eye at how our apartment looked. She just said, “I’ll come and pick you up in three hours, Liz. Have fun girls.”

  “Hey, this is neat,” said Liz, running over to a wall hanging Mom had brought back from Brazil. “I love the colors.”

  “Thank you,” said Mom.

  Liz and I plopped down on my bed. “Cool blanket,” said Liz. “Is it from Brazil too?”