Marshmallow Masquerade

by Cynthia Blair

  “Sure,” said Chris. “I’d really enjoy it. You know, I really like animals.”

  And, she noted with surprise as she bit into her tuna fish sandwich, I’m discovering that I kind of like Peter Blake, as well!

  Chapter Ten

  Even as Chris headed over to Peter Blake’s house that same afternoon, she found herself wondering what on earth she was doing. A week earlier, the mere thought of the popular, outgoing Christine Pratt going to visit the school nerd would have thrown her and her friends into fits of hysterical laughter. Yet here she was, not only on her way, but actually looking forward to it.

  Not only because she loved animals, either.

  It was a good thing she did, however. The moment she stepped inside the Blakes’ house, she saw signs of Peter’s hobby.

  Immediately two dogs came bounding up to the front door, racing over from different parts of the house as soon as they heard Peter come in. And he was ready for them.

  “Hey, Ginger! Hello, Waffles!” he cried as they both skidded toward him, then jumped up to lick his face, their tails wagging furiously. Peter gave them an equally enthusiastic greeting. He knelt down to hug them and scratch them behind the ears. “How’s my girl? How’s my fella?”

  Chris’s presence was also acknowledged by the friendly dogs. She bent over to pat them both as Peter introduced them proudly. Ginger, the dog that Dennis had been talking about, was a large reddish-blond dog, a mixed breed that was part Irish setter. She was still a bit thin, and there were marks where the bruises that Dennis mentioned had been. But she was otherwise a healthy animal. Waffles was much smaller, a light brown dog with long thick fur that made her look like a teddy bear. Even though both dogs were very different, it was obvious that they had one thing in common: they both adored their master.

  A few seconds later, a sleek black cat leaped gracefully off the rocking chair in the living room, where she had been taking an afternoon nap. Chris knew immediately that she was Cleopatra, since she limped ever so slightly as she strolled over to Peter. As she rubbed herself against Peter’s leg, purring a hello, he leaned over to stroke her fur.

  “Hi there, Cleo,” he said in a soft, friendly voice. “How’s that leg of yours today?”

  “Wow, this really is like a zoo!” Chris joked.

  Secretly, however, she was more impressed with Peter Blake than ever. She could tell that these animals had been through some hard times. And that they were fully aware that it was Peter who had helped them through them.

  “Wait until you see the menagerie I’ve got out back,” Peter said with a wide grin. “This, I’m afraid, is just the beginning.”

  From the back of the house came sounds of a kettle boiling.

  “Oh, good. My mother’s home. I’d like you to meet her.”

  He gave each of the animals one final pat, then headed through the hallway, toward the kitchen. Not surprisingly, both dogs followed, not wanting to leave their master’s side now that he was home.

  “Hi, Mom! I’d like you to meet a new friend of mine, Charlie Pratt, from Chicago. He’s visiting his cousins here in Whittington this week.”

  Peter’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table, stirring sugar into the hot cup of tea she had just made for herself. “Hello, Charlie. I’m glad to meet you.”

  Chris half expected Peter to retreat from the kitchen, into his bedroom, immediately. Instead, he sat down next to his mother.

  “How did your day go, Mom?”

  “Oh, fine. I spent most of it at the library, researching that big paper I’ve been working on for the past few weeks. As a matter of fact, I just got home myself.”

  “My mom’s working on her master’s degree in social work,” Peter said proudly. “And she’s the smartest student at the whole university!”

  “Oh, Peter,” Ms. Blake laughed. “I wish that really were the case!”

  “Aw, come on, Mom. You know you deserve a lot of credit for even going back to school in the first place!”

  The three of them chatted for a while about Ms. Blake’s courses and Peter’s day at school. Then Peter said, “Well, I’ll leave you alone so you can get some more work done on that paper. I’ll start dinner in a couple of hours, Mom. I know you probably have a lot of notes to organize, if you were in the library all day. Oh, and don’t forget that it’s Dad’s turn to set the table tonight. I’ll remind him when he gets home, just in case he forgot.”

  Peter then turned to Charlie and said, “Let’s give my mom some peace and quiet. I want to show you something outside, anyway. Hey, would you like an apple?”

  Chris was dumbfounded as she followed Peter out of the kitchen after he’d picked out two bright, shining apples from the refrigerator. She was wondering how she could get Scott Stevens to come over to Peter’s house when he said, “Boy, my mother is sure working hard these days. I really admire her for going back to school. Sure, my dad and my younger sister and I have to pitch in and do a lot more around the house, but we all agree that it’s worth it if that’s what makes Mom happy!”

  Peter led Charlie out to a small shed in the Blakes’ backyard. At one time, he explained, it had been used to store tools. Little by little, however, it had been converted into Dr. Blake’s animal hospital.

  “Fortunately, the walls of this place are thicker than you’d expect, so it doesn’t get too cold in here,” he said as he opened the door.

  Inside the single tiny room, there were numerous cages, each one clean and spacious and equipped with bowls of water, food, and toys. And in each one there was at least one animal. In one of the cages was a white rabbit; in another, three guinea pigs. And sure enough, just as Dennis had said, one of the cages housed a chubby raccoon happily nibbling on a cookie. All in all, there were over a dozen small animals living in the shed.

  “Wow, this really is a zoo!” said Chris, her voice filled with admiration. “Were all of these animals sick when you found them?”

  “No, not all of them. But it’s funny: animals who need homes just manage to find me somehow. A friend of mine who was moving away gave me these guinea pigs; the rabbit belonged to someone my parents know.... But the raccoon here, he just showed up on my doorstep one day with his eye in pretty bad shape. It looked as if he’d been in a fight, and he’d been hurt pretty badly So ... well, let’s just say I did what I could for him.”

  Chris looked at the black and gray animal more closely. Sure enough, his left eye was red and swollen. Even so, it definitely looked as if he was on the road to recovery.

  “Gee, Peter, you really do have a way with animals!” said Chris, looking at all of his pets one by one. And then an odd-thought occurred to her.

  “Can I ask you something, Peter?” Suddenly shy, she picked up a carrot she found lying next to one of the cages and began feeding it to the white rabbit.

  “Sure. What?”

  “What does it mean to you to be a boy?”

  Peter looked over at his new friend in astonishment. “Boy, Charlie! You sure come up with some weird questions!”

  “Well, uh, what I mean is, staying at my cousins’ house has been making me think about the differences between them and me. After all, all three of us are about the same age, but ... well, you know, Girls can be so strange sometimes! Know what I mean?”

  Peter still looked puzzled. “I don’t think girls are strange, Charlie. Oh, sure, they’re different in some ways. But then again, think about all the other boys you know, and how different they all are from each other. Some of them love to watch football on TV. Others, like me, can’t stand it.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, sure. I’d much rather play chess. Or read a book. Especially one about animals.”

  Chris thought for a minute. “Don’t you ever feel pressured to do the things that boys are, well, ‘supposed’ to do? Like watching football, for example.”

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “Well ... yes, I guess so.”

  “Fortunately, my folks aren’t all wrap
ped up in having their son ‘prove’ anything. They don’t care if I’m on the football team or not.” Peter shrugged. “They just want me to be myself. To find what makes me happy and just do it, without worrying about what anybody else thinks.”

  Chris gulped. Here she had been thinking of Peter Blake as a nerd for as long as she had known him ... yet it turned out he was one of the few people who had made up his mind about what was important to him and was confident enough to go ahead and just be himself.

  Boy, she thought ruefully, if that’s what being a “nerd” is, then just about everybody I know should try being more of a nerd! Including Christine Pratt!

  The open way in which she and Peter were talking gave her confidence.

  “There’s something else I want to ask you, Peter. I’m just curious. Have you ever shown any of this to any of the girls you know?”

  Peter chuckled. “There you go again, asking those funny questions. As a matter of fact, no, I haven’t.”

  “Not even to your girlfriend?”

  “Well ... I don’t have a girlfriend, Charlie.”

  “How come?”

  Peter’s cheeks were flushed as he shrugged and said, “I’m afraid most of the girls I know think of me as the school nerd or something.”

  Chris bit her lip.

  “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I’m older to find a girl who appreciates me. One who can see a boy for who he really is, not just how good-looking he is or what kind of car he has or how many teams he’s the captain of.”

  Now it was Chris’s turn to turn pink. “Is ... is there any girl at Whittington High that you particularly like?”

  Peter looked over at Charlie and grinned. “Well, sure. And here I thought it was as plain as the nose on my face. I think your cousin Chris is pretty terrific.”

  “Even though she’s just as guilty as all the other girls you know? I mean, in terms of not being able to see boys for who they really are?”

  “I’m not so sure that’s true. I can’t explain it, but I have this funny feeling about Christine Pratt. I think that even though she tries really hard to be popular at school and run around having a million dates and being a cheerleader and a competitive swimmer and everything else, underneath it all she’s really a very caring, sensitive, understanding person. Someone who doesn’t always have to go along with what everyone else is doing but who has the courage to figure out what’s important to her and just do it.”

  If only he knew! Chris thought miserably. Peter

  Blake believes I possess all these wonderful, positive qualities, when I’ve been acting just like all those superficial girls he just described! Especially where making assumptions about “the school nerd” is concerned!

  “But I shouldn’t be telling you all this,” Peter teased. “After all, you are Chris’s cousin. How do I know you won’t run back to her house and tell her everything I’ve just said?”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Chris said, still feeling like a real heel. “Your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell a soul.”

  “I trust you, Charlie. You seem like the kind of guy who’s always honest. Who really means what he says. Who isn’t afraid to show the world what he really is.”

  Inwardly, Chris groaned.

  “I guess you and your cousin Chris are alike in that way,” Peter went on. “You’re both really sincere, trustworthy people.”

  This time, she was pleased by Peter’s description.

  Wait a minute, she thought all of a sudden. Why am I getting so concerned over what Peter thinks about Chris—I mean me?

  The answer to that question was so obvious that she felt foolish for even having asked it of herself.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Why so glum, chum?”

  Chris and Susan were lingering over breakfast on Thursday morning, both of them lost in their own daydreams as they toyed with their French toast long after their parents had gone on their way. Chris was thinking about the Marshmallow Masquerade—especially the things she still wanted to accomplish, now that Charlie Pratt had only two days left.

  Susan, on the other hand, was thinking about something quite different.

  “Hmmm?” she said dreamily, looking up from the smear of maple syrup on her plate that she had been distractedly running her spoon through.

  “I said, why so glum, chum?” Chris repeated. “You look as if you’ve just lost your best friend.”

  Susan laughed half-heartedly. “Oh, I was just thinking about the Homecoming Dance, that’s all.”

  Chris’s eyebrows immediately went up. “Oh, really? I thought that the Homecoming Dance was supposed to be fun.”

  “Oh, I suppose it is ...if you’ve got a date.”

  “Wait a minute,” Chris demanded. “Is this the same girl who, only days ago, was claiming that she had absolutely no qualms about calling up a boy and asking him out?”

  “I’m not going to ask anyone to the dance,” said Susan. “It’s not that I wouldn’t, mind you. It’s just that I have no idea whether the person I’d like to invite is the least bit interested in going with me.” She sighed deeply. “How about you, Chris? Are you having any luck learning about Scott Stevens—and whether or not he might like to go to the dance with Charlie Pratt’s cousin?”

  Now it was Chris’s turn to look serious. “It’s funny, Sooz. A few days ago, I would have given anything to go to that dance with Scott. But ever since I’ve gotten to see the side of him that only his male friends would ordinarily get to see....”

  Susan grinned. “So he’s not your Prince Charming after all, huh?”

  “I’m not sure yet. But there’s one thing you can count on.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That Charlie Pratt’s goal for day four of the Marshmallow Masquerade is to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. To find out whether or not Scott really is the boy for me. The Marshmallow Masquerade marches on!”

  Even though Chris tried to sound light-hearted, she had to admit that she was feeling more confused than ever. Today, she intended to give Scott one more chance. To figure out how she really felt about him.

  And to figure out how she really felt about Peter Blake.

  There was something else she intended to do, as well. But that was something that had nothing to do with her, that was her way of saying “thank you” to her twin for thinking up the Marshmallow Masquerade.

  “Yes,” Chris said aloud, “I—I mean, Charlie has a lot to do today, so we’d better get rolling. Besides, that last piece of French toast of yours looks like it’s had about all the handling it can stand!”

  By now, playing the role of Charlie Pratt had become so predictable that it was almost routine. The students in Chris’s class had gotten used to the “new boy,” and many of them went out of their way to make him feel at home. She still couldn’t get over how easily they had accepted the fact that he was a boy.... Although, she thought merrily, I have to give my acting skills some credit!

  Even gym class was much easier the second time around.

  “Hey, Charlie! It’s good to see you again!” Peter Blake greeted Charlie as soon as Chris showed up in the gym, dressed in the same baggy shorts and oversized sweatshirt she’d worn on Tuesday,

  “Same here,” said Chris. “Listen, Peter, I really enjoyed coming over to your house yesterday. All those animals of yours are really something!”

  “Gee, I’m glad you think so. And you’re welcome to come back again, any time you want!” Suddenly, Peter’s smile faded. “I almost forgot. You’ll only be in Whittington until Saturday, right? That’s too bad. . . .”

  Chris wanted so much to be able to tell Peter that his new friend wasn’t really leaving, that the two of them could still get together.... But of course, she couldn’t.

  So instead, she said, “You know, Peter, my cousin Chris really likes animals, too. You should show her the ‘Peter Blake Zoo’ one of these days.”

  Peter began to blush. “Aw, I don’t think she’d want to...
.”

  But before Charlie could insist that his cousin would indeed be pleased to come over to Peter’s house, Mr. Nagle blew his whistle to signify that gym class was ready to begin.

  Fortunately, the class spent the period trying out the gymnastic equipment once again. The tasks were a bit more difficult this time, but Chris had no trouble keeping up.

  She couldn’t help feeling somewhat self-conscious, though. After all, she had overheard Scott and his friends saying that Charlie Pratt was “puny.” She was aware of Scott in particular as she tried a handstand on the parallel bars and performed all the other gymnastic feats along with the boys in the gym class.

  Is it my imagination? she wondered over and over again. Or is Scott looking at me in a strange way?

  Oh, no! Maybe he’s figured it out! Maybe he knows I’m really Chris after all and not some make-believe cousin named Charlie.

  She found out what was on his mind right after gym class was over. As she strolled over to the locker room, walking extra slowly so she’d be the last one in and could therefore slip into the boys’ locker room to change without being noticed, Scott came over to her.

  “You know, Charlie,” he said, looking at her in that same quizzical way, “there’s something kind of ... odd about you.”

  Uh-oh, thought Chris. Here goes. I’m about to be found out.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to sound calm.

  “I don’t understand you. I mean, how could you be friends with a guy like me ... and also hang around with someone like Peter Blake?”

  Chris was so relieved that Scott hadn’t just declared that he knew that Charlie and Chris were one and the same person that it took her a few seconds to realize what he really had said. When she did, she suddenly became furious.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Oh, come on, Charlie,” Scott said matter-of-factly. “Peter Blake is a nerd. Everybody knows that. He’s no good at sports; he’s a real zero with girls—”