Rebel McKenzie

by Candice Ransom

  Why did grown-ups always pull that “when you’re older” bit? It was clear to me that Miss Odenia was mixed up in her own mind but she didn’t want to admit it.

  Lacey Jane looked at her own hands. Her fingers were long like Miss Odenia’s, but she chewed her nails.

  “Maybe,” she said, “you’ll figure out that dream you had. And then you’ll know what to do.”

  Miss Odenia nodded. “You might be right, Lacey Jane. Maybe the answer to my problem is in that dream.”

  I didn’t put much stock in dreams. Nosiree, cold hard cash was the answer to my problem.

  “Mama brung me a live white mouse!” Rudy exclaimed, practically foaming at the mouth.

  Lynette came in from work, juggling her tote bag, purse, and a fake woman’s head with a fringe of white hair pinned to it. She set the head down on the kitchen table. “This is not a mouse, Rudy. It’s a wiglet.”

  “What’s that?” I asked. “A wig for a bald-headed baby?” I broke myself up.

  “It’s a hairpiece you stick on the back of your head,” she explained. “To fill in where you don’t have much hair. Maxie, one of the girls at Hair Magic, gave it to me to work on. Her best customer is going to a wedding and wants it styled.”

  I unpinned the wiglet and held it on the back of my hand. “‘Hi, everybody! I’m Mr. Peepers!” I balled my hand into a fist and moved my thumb like a mouth.

  Doublewide jumped up on the chair next to me and cocked his head. I was pretty good at this. Even the cat was entertained. Maybe I should do a puppet act for my talent.

  Rudy giggled. “Hi, Mr. Peepers.”

  “Good-bye, Mr. Peepers.” Lynette grabbed the wiglet away from me. “I have to fix this tonight and give it to Maxie. I’m being paid and everything. My first real hair assignment!”

  “Not counting the chain saw haircut.”

  “Ha-ha. When I get done, and if everybody is good, we’ll go for a Slurpee run.”

  All of us, even Doublewide, watched Lynette shampoo the wiglet in the sink. Then she blow-dried it partway and used her hot rollers. After pinning it back on the fake head, she teased big fat curls into swirls, tucking the ends in with the rat tail of her comb.

  “It looks like a fancy cake,” Rudy remarked, as Lynette blasted her creation with hair spray.

  “It does look like icing on a wedding cake. My Rudy-peepers is so smart!”

  “Can we go get Slurpees now?” I asked.

  Lynette placed the mannequin head on the top of the fridge and gathered up her purse and car keys. We piled into The Clunker and zipped down the dusty road to the 7-Eleven. Besides the Slurpees, Lynette bought me a roll of Necco Wafers and Rudy a cherry Tootsie Pop.

  “What did the doctor say?” she asked me on the way back home. “Today was your appointment, wasn’t it?”

  “My heels are almost better. And get this! Mama and Daddy are going to Ocean City for two weeks!” No wonder they were so eager to get rid of me. They stuffed me in a hot trailer park so they could go to the beach.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Lynette, pulling into our driveway. “Mama and Daddy haven’t been away in years. But that means they won’t be at the pageant.”

  I was glad. The fewer witnesses seeing me sprint to cash the check and hop a bus to Saltville, the better.

  Savoring my Slurpee, I was last to get out of the car. When I heard my sister scream like a herd of quaggas trapped in a tar pit, I hurried inside.

  In the kitchen, my sister stood in shock. The mannequin head lay tumbled on the floor, a few pearl-topped pins still stabbed in it.

  The wiglet was missing.

  “Where is it?” she screeched. “It was right there when we left! Who stole my wiglet?”

  Doublewide crouched under the kitchen table, washing one of his front paws. He quit licking when he realized we were all staring at him. Guilt flickered in his crossed eyes.

  Lynette dove under the kitchen table, but the cat fled into the living room.

  “That CAT!” She hollered so loud, the dishes in the drainer rattled. “I’m going to KILL him!”

  Just as she lunged for him, Doublewide streaked behind the sofa. “Block the other end!” she yelled, shoving an end table aside to crouch by the opening.

  “Lynette,” I said. “Do you think the cat is going to tell you what he did with that wiglet? He’s so scared he’ll probably tee-tee on the floor.”

  “You’re right.” She struggled to her feet. “Fan out and look in all Doublewide’s favorite hiding places. The wiglet has to be here somewhere.”

  I checked Rudy’s room, peering under the beds, underneath Tusky, in the closet. No wiglet. I helped Lynette go through her bedroom. She ripped the covers off her water bed, tossed the pillows on the floor, and picked up the clothes she always left on her floor. I pitched every shoe out of her closet.

  No wiglet.

  Rudy stood on the kitchen counter, taking boxes of cereal and macaroni and spaghetti from the cabinets.

  “Doublewide can’t open cupboards,” I told him.

  “Yes, he can. He opens the bottom one all the time. I seen him. He sits up and pulls with his paw until he gets it open.”

  “That’s because we keep the cat food down there. He can’t reach the upper cabinets.”

  Lynette tore back into the living room. Frantically, she lobbed chair cushions into the corners and even scattered her fashion magazines off the coffee table.

  “Lynette, get a grip,” I said. “We’ll find it. It’ll probably be a little messed up—”

  “It had better not be or that cat’s gonna have more than a kink in his tail!”

  “Okay, we have to think like Doublewide,” I said. “What’s his favorite, favorite place in all the world?”

  We looked at each other, then said at once, “The bathroom!”

  We raced to the bathroom, but it wasn’t big enough for three of us to be in there at the same time. Lynette hauled out the wicker clothes basket and began flinging clothes every which way.

  Rudy looked behind the shower curtain and under the bath mat and in the sink. There was only one place left.

  I got down on my hands and knees and reached behind the toilet. My fingers met something wet and furry. I pulled it out.

  Water dripped from a mass of slimy tangled white hair.

  Lynette’s eyes bulged. “Oh, my God! It’s ruined !”

  “No, it’s not,” I said. “Just wash it like you did before and dry it and fix curls and it’ll be good as new—”

  “Half the hair is gone!”

  She was right about that. Doublewide had clearly had a field day with the hairpiece. But even if he’d gnawed on it for a week, he didn’t have that much spit to make it so sopping wet.

  I lifted the toilet seat. Strands of white hair clung to the sides of the toilet bowl. “I think he tried to wash it himself.”

  “He played with it in the toilet!” Lynette’s face was so red, I thought she was having a stroke. “I’ll have to pay for Maxie’s customer’s hairpiece. They won’t trust me with another job till I’ve had my state license twenty years.”

  Just then, a seal-colored nose poked into the doorway. Doublewide, who had the worst timing in the universe, came to see if he was forgiven. Or maybe to claim his toy.

  Lynette saw him and freaked. “You dare show your face after what you did! I’m gonna uncross your eyes!”

  She chased him down the hall. I was amazed at how fast that big cat could run. His ears were flat as he covered some ground.

  “No more Wagon Train!” Lynette hollered. “No more pudding cups!”

  I had left the front door open. Doublewide dashed through it and sprang into the yard without hitting the steps. With a flash of ruby rhinestones, the cat disappeared down the street.

  “Doublewide!” Rudy called, running after him. He turned to me with stricken eyes. “Doublewide’s run off!”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “He’ll be back. Have you ever known that cat to miss a
meal?”

  But I was wrong.

  (Runaway)

  Answers to the name of Doublewide

  (The Wonder Cat)

  21 Pounds

  Blue Eyes (Crossed)

  Kink Tail

  Dark Brown Fur

  Wearing Fake Ruby Stone Collar

  Likes “Wagon Train”

  and Vanilla Pudding Cups

  If found, call 555-8770

  WARNING:

  Cat may be hard to catch due to hurt feelings.

  The Ten-Pound Three-Ounce Baby

  First thing next morning, Rudy hurried outside in his NASCAR pajamas and bare feet to see if Doublewide had returned. No cat sat on the patio table, paw raised to ring the doorbell.

  “He’s gone forever!” Rudy wailed. “He’s run away from home!”

  “He likes his four square meals a day too much to leave home,” I said. “And you. You’re his best buddy.”

  But when Doublewide hadn’t come back by lunchtime, even I was worried.

  “Mama,” Rudy said, “can we drive around and look for Doublewide?”

  “Honeybunch, I have a great big huge exam to study for.” Lynette sat hunched at the table, surrounded by papers and charts and her cosmetology book. “When I get through studying and if he hasn’t come back, we’ll go. Okay? And your daddy is supposed to call this evening.”

  It seemed too much to hope for, but if Chuck actually called Rudy for once, the kid might not feel so bad.

  “I know,” I said to him. “Let’s make posters. You know, in case somebody finds Doublewide. We’ll put them around the trailer park.”

  Rudy ran to his room and came out with markers and his old school tablet. He ripped out about five hundred sheets. “I’ll tell you what to say and you write it down.”

  After I’d made enough posters to plaster a football stadium, I asked Lynette for some tape.

  “Unh,” she grunted, and mumbled something about electrolysis.

  I fished around in her beauty school first-aid kit for her adhesive tape. Then me and Rudy went outside.

  “Let’s put one on the mailbox row,” I said. “Lots of people will see it there.” We walked all over Grandview Estates, taping posters to street signs and light poles.

  On our way back, Lacey Jane came out of her trailer. “Ready, Rebel?”

  “For what?”

  “Our pageant lesson. And then we’re serving at Miss Odenia’s card party.”

  I smacked my forehead. “I plumb forgot! Rudy, run on home. Tell Lynette I’m at Miz Odenia’s and I’ll be back in a little while. Okay?”

  The card table was set up, and Miss Odenia had laid out the platters for us to use later.

  “You didn’t happen to see a large brown cat?” I asked. “He ran away.”

  “Doublewide? No, but I’ll keep an eye out for him.” She sat down on the sofa. The coffee table was clear except for a single pad of paper and a pen. “I’ve prepared three questions. They should give you an idea of what the interview is like.”

  “Why do we get interviewed anyway?” I asked.

  “The judges base their decision on appearance, personality, and talent. Your personality should shine in the interview part.” She picked up the pad. “Rebel, I’ll interview you first. Stand like I taught you and smile. Always smile.”

  I placed the heel of my right foot in the arch of my left foot, clasped my hands in front, and smiled so hard, the tendons in my neck strained.

  “I said smile, Rebel, not grimace. All right. Miss Rebel McKenzie is our first contestant. Rebel, tell us your life’s ambition.”

  This was easy. “I want to be a paleontologist—the Ice Age kind, not the dinosaur kind. Oh, and I want to save the world.”

  “Rebel, don’t stretch your lips when you talk. And do you really mean you want to save the world?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  She pointed her pen. “Rule Number One, be specific.

  Rule Number Two, be sincere. Judges can spot a phony like an ace-no-face in a hand of nines and tens.”

  “Uh—okay.”

  Miss Odenia sat back again. “Next question. Rebel McKenzie, if I was a stranger in your town and you gave me a tour, where would you take me first?”

  My smile dropped. “Huh?”

  “It sounds strange, but you never know what the judges will ask. Don’t answer right away,” she advised. “Always take at least three seconds to figure out what you want to say. And repeat the question back first. That gives you a little more time.”

  “Okay. Umm—”

  “No ‘um.’” She waggled her pen at me. “You want to sound confident.”

  “Okay, if I was—no, if you were a stranger in town and I gave you a tour, I’d take you to…Kline’s Tastee Freez because they have the best twist cones in Virginia.”

  “Good! Last question. If someone gave you a million dollars, what would you do with it?”

  A million dollars! All those zeros swam before my eyes. I’d buy Frog Level Middle School and close it so I wouldn’t have to go anymore, and then I’d buy a private jet and a pilot so I could fly to any prehistoric dig I wanted, and—

  “Don’t keep the judges waiting too long,” she reminded me.

  What would the judges want to hear? I cleared my throat and said, “If someone gave me a million dollars, I’d—I’d help all the poor people. Is that good, Miss Odenia?”

  “Be more specific. You know, like you’d help a family whose house has burned down or something. That way the judges will think you’re sincere. Not bad, Rebel. Okay, Lacey Jane, let’s see how you do.”

  I took her seat as she got up. “No fair. She heard the questions already and had time to think about her answers.”

  “The judges may ask her the same questions,” Miss Odenia said. “Or they might change them. Now, Miss Lacey Jane Whistle, tell us your life’s ambition.”

  “I want to get married and have six children,” she replied, smiling. “And I also want to be either a detective, veterinarian, or ballerina.”

  You can cross the last one off your list, I thought. A mastodon at a tea party was more graceful than Lacey Jane.

  “Very good,” Miss Odenia said. “If I was a stranger in town and you gave me a tour, where would you take me first?”

  Lacey Jane took exactly three seconds, then she said quietly, “If you were a stranger in town and I gave you a tour, I’d take you to the cemetery because it’s the prettiest, most peaceful spot.”

  Miss Odenia nodded. “And last, Lacey Jane, if someone gave you a million dollars, what would you do with it?”

  The smile left Lacey’s Jane’s face, but her expression was pleasant, almost peaceful. “If someone gave me a million dollars,” she said, “I’d give it to my daddy so he could quit his drywall job and we could be a family all day long, all the time.”

  I crossed my arms in defeat. Lacey Jane might edge me out on the interview part. But I still had her beat on talent and appearance.

  We heard voices outside.

  “Oh, law.” Miss Odenia sighed. “Here comes Viola Sandbanks and Palmer, and I’m not near ready. You know Viola is always the first to arrive anywhere so she can get the most comfortable chair. I really think I’m tired of playing cards.”

  It was after five when me and Lacey Jane finished drying the dishes.

  “You girls run along now,” Miss Odenia said. “Thanks for serving. Don’t forget, tomorrow is dress rehearsal. Be here at ten.”

  “I’ll bring those sandals over for you,” Lacey Jane said as we stopped in the yard between our trailers. The sun was a red ball hovering over the sewer pipe. Even when it set, it wasn’t any cooler.

  “Okay. If you see Doublewide, grab him and call us!”

  I had barely put one toenail across the threshold when Lynette yelled, “Where have you been?”

  “I had a pageant lesson at Miz Odenia’s. And then me and Lacey Jane served at her card party. Didn’t Rudy tell you?”

  Rudy sat at
the kitchen table, drawing and swinging his feet.

  “He told me you went off with Lacey Jane—”

  “Rudy!” I said. “Why didn’t you tell your mother everything I told you?”

  “I forget.” He held up a comic of a cat wearing a cape. “Look what I made for Doublewide for when he comes home.”

  I turned back to Lynette. “You didn’t take Rudy out to look for his cat?”

  “No, I did not!” Her hair stood on end and her eyes were red-rimmed. “Do you remember me saying I had a great big huge exam I had to study for? You should have been keeping Rudy busy.”

  “Excuse me, but you didn’t tell me to.”

  “It’s your job, Rebel! I shouldn’t have to tell you!”

  I’d had enough of Lynette fobbing her work off on me. “What isn’t my job around here? I make the beds and clean your grungy hair out of the sink and pick up Rudy’s dirty clothes and fix lunch and supper plus watch him while you’re gone all day—”

  “That’s what you’re supposed to do!”

  “You didn’t tell me I’d have to be the maid. I was supposed to babysit Rudy—”

  “Which you neglected to do.”

  “One lousy afternoon!”

  Lynette slammed her fist on her stack of papers. “This is so like you, Rebel! You do whatever you want, whenever you want. You always have.”

  “Are you gonna drag out that Mama’s-little-baby stuff again?” I said. “I can’t help it I’m the youngest.”

  “You can help being the biggest brat in the United States! But I guess I can’t blame you entirely. Mama and Daddy spoil you because you’re the only one left at home.”

  “Well, there you go.” I threw my hands out, palm up. “If Mama and Daddy spoil me, it’s not my fault, is it?”

  “I thought you’d grow up this summer. Accept some responsibility. Do you know what I was doing at your age? Mama had me cooking and helping her with the cleaning—”

  I rubbed my forefinger and thumb together. “Eeeee,” I sang shrilly. “This is the world’s tiniest violin playing ‘My Heart Bleeds for You.’”