The Kindness Club: Designed by Lucy
Page 11
“Hey, Lucy,” Chloe said. “Are we going back to the Community House tomorrow to give the kids the quilt?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Absolutely.”
“What kids?” Serena asked. “What quilt?”
“We volunteered at the after-school program last week,” I explained.
“For your kind club?”
“Yup. And we brought supplies for the kids to each decorate a square of fabric.”
“Or a rectangle, or a heart shape,” Chloe said.
“All different shapes,” I said. “I sewed them together to make a patchwork quilt. It wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be, but it came out all right. Not perfect, but all right.”
“That’s so cool,” Serena said.
“You can come with us to give it to them, if you want.”
“Oh, I wish,” Serena said. “I have to go to the orthodontist. I was supposed to go already, but my mom was really sick when I had the appointment, so we had to reschedule.”
Every time Serena mentioned her mom, I felt something tighten inside me. Like the tingles for my mom, and something even more. Almost like I missed Mrs. Kappas, which didn’t even make sense because I’d never met her.
Or maybe I did meet her. It was possible that she once stood next to Grandma at after-school pickup, when we were too young to walk home by ourselves. Or maybe she was one of the parents who volunteered at the annual carnival night, and she handed me a prize or an ice cream cone. I couldn’t remember. I’d had language during those times, but I didn’t know some things were important enough to store as memories.
“I’d like to skip it again,” Serena went on. “But my aunt thinks we’ve put off the orthodontist long enough, and I know she won’t let me out of it.”
“Do you go to Dr. Beach?” Chloe asked her. “He’s my orthodontist, and he’s not so bad.”
“I don’t know,” Serena said. “It’s my first time.”
“Ooh,” Chloe said. “I hope it’s Dr. Beach. He has a big whiteboard in his waiting room that takes up the whole back wall and you can draw whatever you want. Some people even write jokes or poems on it.”
“What did you put on it?” Serena asked.
“Serotonin,” Chloe said.
“Sero-what?”
“It’s the chemical in your brain that makes you happier,” Theo explained.
“It looks like two hexagons put together with some lines coming out of the sides. I drew it on the bottom right corner. It might still be there. Dr. Beach doesn’t erase anything until the board is completely covered, and then it starts over.”
Our class has science the last two periods on Wednesday, and right in the middle of the lesson about the three different types of matter, I had another idea. Chloe, Theo, and I all sit in a row, but I couldn’t risk passing a note. Our science teacher, Dr. Whelan, is super strict. If you so much as smile at the person next to you, she yells at you for not paying attention. I’ve seen her do it to other people and it’s humiliating. So I waited for the bell to ring, and then I told my fellow Kindness Club members my plan: “I’m going to go to Tanaka Lanes right now and make sure everything is all set for Sunday.”
“I thought your piano teacher was back this week,” Chloe said.
“She is,” I said. “But my grandmother said I don’t have to go anymore.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Chloe said. “If you want me to.”
“I definitely want you to,” I said. “But don’t you have to finish your homework before you go to your dad’s?”
“It’s not like that’s a rule,” she said. “He just likes me to try and get everything done. But I think he’d understand if I do this instead. After all, the Kindness Club started out as a school project. And besides that, I haven’t even ever seen Tanaka Lanes.”
“That is a complete and total tragedy that we need to fix IMMEDIATELY,” I said.
Theo said he’d come, too—he didn’t want to miss Chloe’s first time at the alley. The three of us headed down Braywood School Road, made a left on Main, and a right onto Sheridan.
I love turning the corner and seeing the sign for Tanaka Lanes. It’s on a pole that stretches up high, like twenty feet aboveground at least. TANAKA LANES is spelled out in big, bold letters, and next to them there’s a picture of a couple pins and a bowling ball. At night the sign lights up and the letters flash off and on in neon blue. During the day, the lights are off. But still, it’s pretty big and it looks cool.
We crossed the street and ran along the sidewalk to the thick glass double doors. I pulled one open. “After you,” I said to my friends.
“Finally, FINALLY, I’m at the famous Tanaka Lanes,” Chloe said.
“It is kind of famous,” I agreed. “Everyone in town knows about it. Come on, I’ll show you everything.”
But we barely made it more than five feet inside before someone stopped us. “Excuse me,” a woman said. I’d never seen her before. She was sitting behind the desk where you sign up for your lane and get your shoes. “Children under sixteen are not allowed to be in here without a parent. Is your mother with you?”
Different adult, same assumption.
“My father is with me,” I said. “I’m Lucy.” I looked at her eyes for a sign of recognition on hearing my name. But: nothing. “Lucy Tanaka. My dad is Kenji Tanaka, and he owns this place. We’re going to go to his office.” I turned to Chloe. “Which is right up there,” I said, pointing to a staircase that at first glance she probably hadn’t seen. The lights are dimmed at Tanaka Lanes, like it’s always nighttime inside the bowling alley, and the stairs leading up to Dad’s office are carpeted in black, so people don’t usually notice them. Upstairs, there are one-way windows. Dad can see out, onto the lanes. But if you’re on the first floor looking up, you’d only see the lanes reflected back to you in mirrors.
“Why don’t you wait right here and I’ll call for him,” the woman told me.
“I’m allowed to go up without calling,” I assured her.
She shook her head. “Wait here.”
She picked up the phone, and I listened to her half of the conversation: “Hi, this is Lydia from downstairs. I have some visitors for Ken?” She said it like it was a question. “His daughter and a couple other kids?” Another question. There was a brief pause, someone else talking. Then Lydia said, “All right. I will.”
“He said to come up?” I asked as she hung up the phone.
“Someone will be right with you,” she said.
“Okay,” I said.
“May I use the phone?” Chloe asked.
“We don’t usually allow customers to use the phone,” Lydia said.
“She’s not a customer,” I told her. “She’s my guest.”
“It’ll only be a minute,” Chloe said. “I just need to call my mom and let her know where I am.”
Lydia slid the phone toward Chloe. I listened to her tell her mom where she was. When she hung up, Theo called his parents. Then we sat in the waiting area, just, well, waiting. To be honest, it was a little boring, and I felt bad. This was Chloe’s first time at Tanaka Lanes! It should be the opposite of boring!
“Hey!” I said. “You guys, let’s bowl!”
We needed to go to Lydia for shoes, which she didn’t want to give us. But I knew where everything was, so I grabbed three pair for Chloe, Theo, and myself—I hadn’t brought my bowling shoes with me, so I had to use a communal pair. Kind of gross. Lydia picked up the phone again, I bet to call up to Dad’s office and check that I was really allowed to do what I said. Meanwhile, I led my friends toward the bowling lanes. First we each had to pick a bowling ball.
“You want a ball where your fingers fit firmly, but they don’t stick when you’re trying to get them out,” I advised.
Chloe picked up a pink ball. “This one’s good, and it’s really light.”
“It’s too light,” I told her. “You need it to be light enough to swing around, but also heavy enough to knock the pins with for
ce. It’s a little like having the perfect handshake: there’s a balance.”
“It’s physics,” Theo said. “The mass of the ball affects how fast it travels down the lane.”
Chloe nodded, though I could tell she didn’t really understand. Neither did I. But I did know about picking bowling balls. I handed Chloe a yellow one and took green for myself. Theo picked an orange one.
“Oh, by the way, they glow in the dark,” I said. “Wait till you see how cool it looks rolling down the lane.”
It was a Wednesday afternoon, not exactly prime bowling time, so there were lots of lanes to choose from. I picked Lane 3. There’s a little computer in front of each lane, where you can type in your names to go up on the screen, so you know whose turn it is. Ollie always made up cool bowling names, so I did that, too:
Chloe the Kindest
Theo Barnestormer
Lucky Lucy
“I put you first because you’ve never been here before, so you’re the guest of honor,” I told Chloe. “Do you want any pointers?”
“Sure.”
“Okay. These are the four main things Felix taught me. Number one, keep your wrist strong, so the ball is like an extension of your arm. Number two, there are marks on the lane and you should find your mark and that’s what you aim for when you swing the ball. Number three, use a four-step approach to your swing: step, step, step, step, pulling your arm back and forward again. Finally, number four, release the ball on your fourth step, keeping your hand straight and palm up the whole time.”
Chloe nodded and picked up her ball. I watched her eye the marks, then she counted her steps: “One, two, three, four.” When she released it, it rolled down the center for a couple seconds, before veering left. “Oh no! Gutter ball!”
“It’s okay, you’ll get the hang of it,” I assured her.
Each bowler gets two turns, so when Chloe’s ball popped back up, she tried again and knocked a couple pins down. Then it was Theo’s turn. He got four pins down his first shot, and one the next. “You’re up, Lucky Lucy.”
I picked up my green ball and counted my steps, aiming for the second mark on the right. That was my mark. Felix had told me after watching me bowl like a thousand times. One. Two. Three. Four. Swing and release. At first it looked like the ball was going to hit the right-side pins only. But it smashed the pins exactly in the center of the lane. Crash. They all went down. An instant replay flashed on the score screen above our heads.
Chloe ran up and slapped me five. “That was amazing,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Do you always get strikes?” Theo asked.
I shook my head. “I’m pretty good at getting pins down, but usually I don’t get strikes. My brother gets them all the time, though. Did you know when you get three strikes in a row, it’s called a turkey, and when that happens, a cartoon turkey appears up there.” I nodded toward the screen.
“What’s it called if you bowl four strikes in a row?”
“There isn’t a name for it. People just say four-bagger, or five-bagger for five, and on and on. I need a turkey first, though.”
“This could be your Lucky Lucy day,” Chloe told me.
“Or yours,” I told her. “You’re up again.”
“LUCY!” a voice called out—Grandma’s voice.
“Hey! Grandma! I bowled a strike! Right on my first try. Maybe today will be a turkey day!”
“Or even a four-bagger,” Chloe said. “Hello, Mrs. Tanaka.”
“Hello, dear,” Grandma said. She turned to me. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We just came to check things out for Serena’s party, and we decided to bowl while we waited for you and Dad. Is he done with his meeting?”
“He’s finishing a call,” Grandma told me. “He’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“I guess we’ll keep bowling till then. Turkey, here I come!”
Grandma stepped toward the computer. “I don’t think it’s a good time for a game right now.”
She pressed the button marked: End Game. “Okay,” I said. “Well, can I show Chloe the back?”
It’s really cool to see behind the scenes at Tanaka Lanes, where the pinsetters are. Everything runs like clockwork back there; except sometimes, there’s a jam in the bowling ball machine. Then you have to unjam the balls by hand. But Dad never lets me do it, because the balls can smash your fingers.
Grandma shook her head. “Let’s wait for Dad by the concession stand,” she said.
“Can I make them Tanaka dogs?”
“He’ll be down soon,” she said.
But he wasn’t down that soon. Certainly we could’ve eaten a Tanaka dog, and maybe two, before the office door finally opened and Dad padded down the dark stairwell. “Hey, Lucy,” he said. “It’s not a great day to be here. Grandma and I have a lot of work to do.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’re not staying long. You remember Theo, right? And this is Chloe.”
He looked at my friends like he was noticing them for the first time. “Yes, of course. Hi, Theo. Hi, Chloe.”
They both said hi back to him. Then Chloe said, “It’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Tanaka. I love your bowling alley.”
“What?” Dad said. “Oh, thanks.”
“We just came because we wanted to make sure everything was set for Sunday,” I told him.
“Sunday?” Dad asked.
“Lucy says you agreed to host a party for her friend Serena,” Grandma prompted.
“You did agree,” I said. “Last week. I told you about how Serena’s mom died and we were going to plan a birthday party for her. And now it’s not just any party. It’s a surprise party.”
“Oh, Luce—” he began.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I already spoke to Serena’s aunt Odessa, and she said it’s fine. She said it’s great actually. She’s going to bring her by at noon, and Serena’s best friend Vanessa is telling all of Serena’s friends about it. We’re expecting sixteen people total, so we need four lanes, and we’ll serve pizza because Serena’s a vegetarian.”
“Pescatarian,” Theo broke in.
“Right, and—”
“Lucy, I need to stop you there,” Dad said. His eyes flicked to my friends for an instant, then back to me. “I’m very sorry, but you can’t have a party here this weekend.”
“But, Dad,” I said. “You promised.”
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t say that I promised anything.”
“Okay, fine,” I said. “You didn’t specifically say the words ‘I promise,’ but you did say that the party was a good idea. I thought that meant we were allowed to go ahead with it.”
“It’s a misunderstanding,” Dad said. “We can’t.”
“We have to!” I cried. “Serena’s mom just died, and we’re the Kindness Club! It’s up to us to make her birthday special!”
“I’m sure Serena’s family can handle that,” he said.
“They can’t! Dad, please!”
He shook his head.
I knew Chloe and Theo were right there, watching my dad, and watching me. I was so humiliated. This was even worse than if Dr. Whelan had yelled at me in front of the whole class. Even if Dad hadn’t made a promise, I’d made one. And now he was making me break it. My stomach clenched, and I could feel pressure behind my eyes. The kind of pressure that means tears are coming.
“Please,” I said again. My voice had that about-to-cry sound to it, too.
“I would if I could,” Dad said.
“Now, come on, Lucy,” Grandma said. “Calm down and don’t give your father a hard time about this. I told you last night I wasn’t sure it would work, and now he’s said no.”
“But he just said he would if he could and he can,” I insisted. I turned to Dad. “Come on, you’re the boss. You own this place. How can you be so unkind?”
“All right, that’s enough,” Dad said sharply. “We’ll discuss this at home.”
“Yeah, right,”
I muttered. “You’re never home.”
“What’s that?”
The phone on Lydia’s desk rang, and she picked it up. “Hello?” And a few seconds later, she looked over at us. “Ken, there’s a call for you,” she said.
“I’ll take it upstairs,” he told her, and he turned to head back up the black staircase.
“Why don’t you go home now,” Grandma said. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Can you try to talk him into it?”
“No, Lucy,” she said. “Your dad gave you an answer, and just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean I can change it.” She glanced at Chloe and Theo, then back to me. “I think you three should try to think of a new plan.”
CHAPTER 20
On the walk home, Theo and Chloe did their best to cheer me up and make me not feel bad about what happened. But of course I felt bad. I’d let them down. Worse still, I’d let Serena down.
Maybe that was Dad’s fault, but it felt like it was my fault. Grandma said she didn’t remember the discussion of the party, and Dad didn’t seem to, either. So maybe it wasn’t that the two of them were forgetting things; it was that I was making things up.
Except I was sure that I wasn’t making it up. We had talked about it, and he had said it was okay. I played snippets of the conversation with Dad over in my head, like a memory movie:
“We have had some nice memories at the bowling alley, haven’t we?”
“I think Serena would like a party there. Don’t you think?”
“Yes, sure.”
Meanwhile, Chloe and Theo debated whose house we should move the party to. The problem with Theo’s house, he explained, was that his sister Anabelle was already hosting a party for the track team. It was the coach’s birthday, too. The same day as Serena’s. “Quite a coincidence, huh?” Chloe asked, elbowing me. She was smiling in a way that was supposed to make me smile, too. “What were the chances? Two out of twenty-three, according to Theo’s birthday problem, right?”
“Fifty percent, if there are twenty-three people in the room,” Theo corrected.
“Well, anyway,” Chloe went on. “It’s nothing to worry about. We’ll just have Serena’s party at my house.”