Rush

by Lisa Patton

  What could be good news? I’ve been cut from Rush. What news can Sarah possibly tell me that will make me feel better? I don’t want to call her back. I really wish she would leave me alone, I think, as I press redial.

  She answers on the first ring. “Cali! Where are you? I’ve been looking everywhere.”

  I sigh. Loudly. Right into the phone.

  “No one on your floor knows where you are.”

  “I’m going home,” I say softly. “Why would I want to stay here? It’s Bid Day. I’m not getting a bid.” I’ll take a cab, if I have to, back home to Blue Mountain. I’ve certainly saved enough money to afford one.

  “Yes, you are!”

  I sit straight up.

  “I can’t tell you who it is, but you’ve been given a bid! I know it sounds weird, and it is, but sometimes sororities are given another chance to hand out more bids.”

  My head is splitting from pain and she’s talking so fast I have to squeeze my face to keep up with her. “Wait. I don’t get it.”

  “It’s totally weird. And I never told any of you in my group about this because it doesn’t happen that often. It’s called a snap bid.”

  “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “I know. Like I said, it doesn’t happen that often. And you’re going to want to think you were second choice, but I promise you this sorority is over the moon about you. I can assure you they would never offer a bid to a girl if they didn’t love her. I mean really love her.”

  “Sounds sort of weird.”

  “This whole Rush season has been weird,” she says. “With the variable quota and all. So many things got turned around. Tons of legacies were cut. And, like I told you yesterday, several girls decided to suicide and they ended up not pledging anything at all.”

  I finally let go of the breath I’ve been holding the whole time she’s been talking. “Okay, so—”

  “So get up, girl. Put your Bid Day clothes on and meet me in the Grove in an hour. You are a new member!”

  Hearing those last five words finally convince me this is truly happening. But I still can’t speak. I’m … I’m starting to cry, again, and I don’t know why. If what she’s saying is true I should be dancing. But I’m not. I’m crying. When I whimper into the phone I feel the pangs of embarrassment all over again.

  “Cali, do not worry about this. Everything that has happened will become a faded memory. When you walk inside your new sorority House today and meet your pledge class and all the actives, you’ll be so happy. Please get excited and enjoy this. It will be one of the best, most fun days of your entire life.”

  “Thank you,” I manage to say, in a soft voice.

  “Are you okay, Cali?”

  “Yes. I’m just a little shocked. And … embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be. Please don’t be. It’s all gonna be great. You’ll be there today, promise?”

  I suck in a deep breath. And swallow my pride. “Yes, yes. I promise.” My pain is subsiding and I feel a little energy moving through my body. “Sarah?”

  “Yes?”

  “Is this really happening?”

  “It’s happening, baby. I’ll see you in an hour. Don’t be late.”

  “Okay.” The tone in my voice is finally starting to lift. “See you soon.” Once we hang up I climb down off my bed, steady myself against the mattress, and let the last two minutes sink in.

  My hands are trembling. I can hardly punch in the numbers to Ellie’s phone. “Answer, please answer,” I say out loud.

  Background music is blasting when she picks up. “Hey. Are you okay? Your Gamma Chi’s been here looking for you.”

  “I know. Can you come to my room?”

  “I didn’t know you were in there. I’ll be right over.”

  By the time I make it to my door, Ellie’s already here. When I open it, I see her studying my face. “Oh, Cali. I’m so sorry.” But then I smile and she smiles with me. Her eyes light up along with mine. “What’s going on?”

  I pull her inside, shut the door. “Sarah came here to tell me … I’m getting a bid!”

  “What? I’m so happy!” She hugs me and we spin around, holding each other’s arms.

  “Can you believe it?”

  “Yes, I believe it. What happened?”

  I tell her everything that Sarah told me five minutes ago. Almost word for word.

  “This is freaking awesome! Get dressed, Cal. Right now. We need to leave here in thirty minutes.”

  I glance at myself in the mirror, and my shoulders fall. “What about my eyes? I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Oh forget it. There have been so many girls around here with swollen eyes this week. Who cares?”

  “I feel like I’m dreaming, El.” Purely for fun, I pinch myself on the arm. “Am I?”

  She laughs. “No, you’re not dreaming. And don’t worry about washing your hair. Just wash your face and I’ll come by here in thirty minutes to get you. Okay?”

  I can feel my cheek muscles lifting as I shoot her my best smile. Then I shut the door behind her.

  “Yes! Yes!” I say out loud, wanting to scream at the top of my lungs, but instead I fall to my knees, tip my head back, and lift my arms high in the air. “Thank You, Thank You, thank You, God,” I say, before crawling back up. Then I jump around the room. As fast as I can get my hands on it, I open the iTunes app on my phone and turn it up as loud as it will go. It’s J. Cole, my favorite rapper.

  As soon as I hear his voice I jerk and slide around the room. Instead of his lyrics, I make up my own and sing out over his. “I’m getting a biiid,” I sing. “It’s official, I ain’t lyin’, and I sure ain’t dreamin’. Yeah. A bid’s coming my way. Did you hear that, Martin, I told you, I ain’t being left out in no cold. Yeah. That Cali Watkins … she the bomb. Yeah. ‘This slang that I speak, don’t change that I’m deep.’ Yeah.”

  J. Cole fades and I scroll though my phone till I find Alicia Keys. When I hear the first chords, I dance over to the door and study my reflection in the mirror. Jerking the rubber band out of my hair, I watch it cascade onto my shoulders. Then I sing with her.

  “She’s just a girl, and she’s on fire.” I bend down and flip my hair over. “Hotter than a fantasy, longer like a highway.” Then jerking back up, I watch myself juke my hips from side to side, like I am the coolest dancer on earth. I’m not—I’m terrible—but I imagine that I am, until Alicia finishes her last note.

  Thirty minutes later, dressed in my official Ole Miss uniform, I’m headed to the Grove with Ellie.

  FORTY

  MISS PEARL

  “It’s the calm before the storm,” Mama Carla says when we meet each other in the foyer. I’m just getting into work and exactly two hours from now this House will be exploding with 140 new Alpha Delta Betas. “You’ve got to see this.” She takes me by the hand and leads me toward the downstairs study lounge.

  Trudy is jogging right behind us wearing her ADB doggie jersey. One of the girls gave it to Mama Carla last year.

  “See what?” I ask.

  “This year’s present crop.” She swings open the door and before God every inch of the floor, the tabletops—even the cushions on the sofas—are loaded down with gift baskets full of every Alpha Delt novelty one can imagine—cups, headbands, pencils, beach towels, clipboards, and picture frames, just to name a few. Clusters of blue and white balloons are covering the ceiling and the scent from what must be three hundred bouquets of roses makes me imagine I’m stepping inside a perfumery. All the parents and grandparents—even the boyfriends and other girlfriends—send congratulatory gifts to the new pledges.

  There’s a stuffed orca, the Alpha Delt mascot—taller than I am—on a stand with his fins up, like he’s dancing at Sea World. Sometime early this morning, all of the florists and gift boutiques in town got their own secret copy of the final bid list from Panhellenic. They’re all sworn to secrecy, not even the parents or gift givers know who is pledging which sorority. By the looks of this place I’m
quite sure they worked their arms and legs off putting these baskets together.

  “Lord, Mama Carla, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this much loot. In all the years I’ve been here.”

  “And the crazy thing is, because of that variable quota deal, we have fewer pledges than last year. Take a gander, Pearl.” Mama Carla sweeps her hand from one end of the room to the other. “Try to guess which pledge got the most.”

  I scan the presents one more time, but I don’t need to. “Are her initials ALW?” I say with a chuckle.

  “You got it. When I saw that six-foot orca come in with her name on it, I said, ‘Well now’”—she crosses her arms under her chest—“‘isn’t that a productive way to spend money.’ Wonder how many starving children that thing could have fed?”

  That Mama Carla. She’s always got a wisecrack up her sleeve.

  “Uh-oh, look at Trudy.” I point toward the door. One of the baskets on the floor has been tipped over and that tiny thing is running off with a chocolate orca in its mouth.

  “Trudy!” Mama Carla yells, and all I can see is her backside as she’s running down the hall.

  When I catch up with her I decide to tell her what’s been on my mind all weekend. I’ve hardly slept from all the mental scenarios I’ve created. “I’ve been thinking about what you said on Monday and I’ve decided you’re right.”

  She snatches the candy out of Trudy’s mouth. “Bad girl, Trudy. Don’t you know chocolate can kill you?” The orca is full of tiny teeth marks, but it seems Mama Carla has intervened just in time. “So much for this.” She stuffs the candy into her pants pocket. “Now, what were you saying?”

  “I’m ready to put in my application for House Director.”

  The elation on her face lets me know she’s happy to hear it. “Pearl Johnson. That’s fantastic.”

  “Well, I think so, too, Mama Carla. What’s my first step?”

  “I imagine you’ll need to say something to Lilith Whitmore.”

  I shake my head, let out a moan. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  “Oh for heaven’s sakes. What can that woman say? You’re qualified and she knows it. Don’t be afraid of her.”

  “Oh, I’m not afraid of anybody, and I’m sure not afraid of her. My only hesitation is, well, you know what it is. Something tells me she won’t take me serious.”

  Mama Carla looks me dead in the eye. “She’ll have to take you serious. This is 2016. She’ll be here in a little while, so why don’t you go up and tell her you’ll be turning in an application.”

  “You think today is best?”

  “Actually,” she says, flicking a finger in the air, “today is perfect.” She gives me a thumbs-up. “She’ll be over the moon about Annie Laurie. You’ll be catching her at just the right time.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “You and I both know she’s been living for this moment. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell her she needs to get a life and … never mind. I better shut up before I get myself in trouble. Let me go put Trudy up before she kills herself.”

  Mama Carla scoops Trudy in the crook of her arm and heads back to her apartment. I head on into the kitchen. Sleeping until eight this morning has made a big difference. I actually feel refreshed. Maybe Mama Carla is right. Today is the perfect day. Aunt Fee will be in soon, and I can’t wait to tell her about my talk with Mama Carla. She’ll have her own opinions on how I should approach Miss Lilith.

  Once the kitchen door closes behind me, I go on about my business, making sure things are in order. This year the girls have decided to change Bid Day up a bit. Instead of taking the celebration off campus, we’re having a big supper on the back patio to welcome all the new members.

  When I drove in this morning I noticed both of the giant Bid Day banners hanging from the second-floor balcony and boulder-size balloons scattered all over the front yard. Streamers that had been placed on the porch railings, were fluttering with the wind. A blue-and-white balloon arch stretched over the front walkway, and a photo booth was on one side of the yard—oversize Greek letters on the other. No telling how late the girls were up last night getting it all done.

  Around eleven, I look up at the clock and it’s past time for Aunt Ophelia to make it in. Next time I look, a whole hour later, she still hasn’t made it in. At first I figured she was in church, so I didn’t worry. But now I’m ready to peel off a layer of my skin. Late-to-work is not her way. When I dial her number, there’s no answer. Something is dead wrong.

  Not two minutes later, here comes Mama Carla prancing into the kitchen, looking like she’s got news. Mr. Marvelle, Kadeesha, Helen, Latonya—we’re all here today and it seems everyone, besides me, is in a happy mood. Even though the staff is exhausted from Rush Week, right along with the members, Bid Day has everybody feeling good.

  Mama Carla claps her hands together to get our attention. “Listen up, y’all.” Everyone stops what it is they’re doing to look at her. “The bad news is Miss Ophelia is sick today. But the good news is you’ve got me. I’m hoping we can all pitch in and get Bid Day dinner ready. Y’all okay with that?”

  She looks around and everybody nods. Then she looks at Latonya, Aunt Fee’s sous chef. “You might want to put me on chopping duty, Latonya. I’ve been known to burn up an oven before.” She chuckles, turns back to the rest of us. “Don’t start thinking that’s the reason my husband left. That had more to do with a hot young nurse.”

  Everyone in the kitchen laughs, besides me. I can’t laugh. Not today. I’m too worried about my auntie.

  Mama Carla rubs her palms together. “Okay, y’all, put me to work. What can I do first?” She’s not acting like she’s worried about Aunt Fee. Could I be overreacting?

  Mr. Marvelle doesn’t seem worried either. He gives her a hearty chuckle. “You can march yourself right out that door, that’s what you can do.”

  “What? I thought y’all might like to boss me around for a change.”

  “If you’re still planning on hot chicken and waffles with maple syrup and a nice big salad, then we all know what to do,” Mr. Marvelle says. “Latonya’s chicken is almost as good as Miss O’s.”

  “Hey now,” Latonya says. “I know how to fry. Learned it from the best.”

  “So you’re saying you can handle this without me?” Mama Carla asks, feigning disappointment with a hand on her brow.

  Latonya flashes her a confident smile. “Go on, Mama Carla. We got this.”

  “It’s not that hard,” Kadeesha says. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

  I whoosh around and get up in that fool’s face. I’ve had about as much of her as I can stand for one lifetime. “Nobody’s putting up a fuss, Kadeesha. Nobody but you.”

  She backs away, holding her palms up. “Whoa. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m worried about my auntie. Can’t you understand that?”

  She narrows her eyes, shuts her mouth. But I can tell the venom is spewing backward, coating her tongue—all the way back to her throat—with spite.

  As soon as Mama Carla leaves, I buy myself a Co-Cola from the machine in the buffet line. It’s about the only thing I know of can calm my nerves—besides an extra-long menthol cigarette—and I put those nasty things down ten years ago last month. Then I walk straight out the back door. All the chairs are folded against the wall, so I pull one out and sit myself down.

  I’ve had only one sip of my cold drink when I hear the door creak. Mr. Marvelle walks outside, pulls out his own chair. Then he sits down slowly, right next to me. “I’m telling you, Pearl. Miss O is not well.” Hearing those words—especially from him—puts a twenty-five-below-zero chill through my body.

  I take another sip, swallow slowly, then clear my throat. I look that man straight in the eye. “Tell me what makes you say that. Besides holding her stomach, what else have you noticed?”

  “For one thing, she looks like she’s dead on her feet. A few days ago, she toted one of these cha
irs back to the stove.” He grips the seat. “Had to sit down back there. You know Miss O ain’t like that. She runs circles around everybody in this kitchen.”

  “I know that’s right.” Why haven’t I been paying more attention? My head feels heavy. I can hardly move. “Notice anything else?”

  “Let’s see, now.” He’s rocking nervously in the chair, dragging his teeth back and forth across his lip. “She told me one day that her legs was bigger than normal and that she felt full all the time.”

  “Wonder what that could mean?”

  “I don’t know.” He’s rubbing the insides of his palms, something I’ve seen him do when he’s agitated. “I have noticed she uses the bathroom quite a bit.”

  That’s all I need to hear. I reach into my pocket and yank out my phone. Once I punch in the numbers, it rings five times. “Come on Fee, pick up the phone.”

  After two more rings I think it’s going to voice mail, but then I hear her answer. “Hello, dahlin’.” Her voice is low and weak. “I was expecting your call.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

  “Just a cramp; that’s all,” she says calmly. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “This has been going on too long for me not to worry.” She can always tell when I’m upset and today my voice has distress signals blinking at top speed.

  Somehow she musters more strength. “I’m fine, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow. Tell everybody I appreciate them fillin’ in for me.”

  “What do you need, Aunt Fee? Tylenol? Food? Co-Cola? I’m coming straight there when I leave here, and don’t you tell me I’m not. May as well let me bring you something you want.” I dart my eyes toward Mr. Marvelle. He’s sitting on the edge of his chair. Listening to my every word.

  “How about a dinner plate?” she asks. “That would be right nice.”

  “What else?”

  “I’ve got everything else I need right here.”

  “I’ll see you after I leave,” I say. “Around seven thirty.”

  “Don’t rush. I’m not going nowhere.”