Serendipity's Footsteps

by Suzanne Nelson

  “Come on,” she whispered, avoiding her eyes. “That was months ago. Anyways, what was I supposed to do? She probably doesn’t even remember inviting me. And you know she was never going to make the team.” She shrugged. “Look, I already put up with her following me around school with that camera. That’s more than anyone else would do. I’m sorry if she thinks we’re best friends. But I can’t help it if she’s got the wrong idea.”

  Just then, Mrs. Baddour called out, “Careena, I need your help!”

  Careena glanced toward the front of the store. “I have to go.” She started to turn away, then paused. “Were you the one who drew those pictures of me on the stalls in the girls’ bathroom?”

  Ray gave her a look of doe-eyed innocence. “Oh, right, I saw those. Who knows who did it? You have so many admirers.”

  Careena’s smile cratered, and underneath was anger. “You think you’re so much better than me, but I don’t think you want her hanging around you either. Not really. Nobody does.”

  Ray watched her walk to the register, hating Careena for her complacency, and hating herself for not being able to deny what she’d said. Now more than ever, she was on a mission. She scanned the shelves, looking for something that she could slip easily into the pocket of her pants, or under her shirt. She was flipping through the racks when a flash of cherry-red caught her eye. She shoved a pair of puke-brown trousers aside, revealing a satin sheath dress just her size. She stared at the dress with one thought and one thought only: Carter. The dress would make her look older. Prom wasn’t until June, but she could wait until then…and hope. Maybe if he saw her in the dress, he wouldn’t see her as his student. Maybe if he saw her wearing this dress, instead of her ripped tees and worn jeans, he’d see her as someone he could love.

  As she pulled the dress off the rack, she jostled some fraying ancient boxes with her elbow, and a shoe fell out from the shadowy depths of one of them, toppling to the floor.

  The shoe was old-fashioned, but elegant, with pearl beading at the throat and faded flowers embroidered along the toe. The pale pink fabric was yellowing slightly, and there was a scuff mark along the back of the heel, but that only made its grace more surprising, and appealing. Ray traced the flowers with her fingers, wondering why the shoe had ever been left, forgotten, in this store. It had a displaced, wounded look to it. Like it had been deeply cared for once and was never supposed to have ended up here. It was exactly the way Ray felt about her own life, and a sudden sadness overwhelmed her. She had the strangest sensation that it was coming from the shoe itself, as if it were trying desperately to tell her what had happened, what twists of fate had brought it to this place.

  Out of some inexplicable urge to comfort the shoe, Ray pulled off her ratty sneaker and slipped on the pale pink heel. She closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to start. It never did.

  The shoe was a pillow cradling her foot, embracing it. Never had a shoe felt so good. Staring down in disbelief, she smiled.

  Just then, the front door chimed, and in breezed a troop of Girl Scouts holding bags of donations. Ray sucked in her breath. This was her chance. She shoved the dress down the leg of her baggy cargo pants, then dug through the boxes until she found the pink shoe’s mate. She slipped that one onto her other foot, sighing with relief as her pain vanished entirely. With her Reeboks under her shirt, she glided out of the store unnoticed.

  Now, in the booth at the diner, Ray squirmed. They were only stupid shoes, for cripes’ sake! But she could swear they looked accusing, like they were scolding her for abandoning them back at Smokebush. God, this was completely deranged! No way was she letting shoes make her feel guilty! She slapped one of them roughly, and it fell onto its side. As it did, she noticed that the heel was broken and bent back at an odd angle, exposing a small chamber inside.

  Ray tipped the heel upside down and tapped it against the tabletop, and a slip of paper and two shiny objects tumbled out. Ray leaned closer, staring. They were rings. One was a diamond ring. Her heart galloped through her chest. Diamonds.

  Diamonds she could pawn once she got to Manhattan. Diamonds that could pay for rent and food, at least for a while. Diamonds that could buy her a comfortable first few months in the city.

  She swept the rings swiftly into her pocket. Then, once they were hidden, she picked up the slip of paper. A handwritten message was scrawled across it:

  It was a language Ray had never seen before. She nearly crumpled the note and tossed it under the table, but hesitated. Someone had put it in the shoe with the rings for a reason. She was taking the rings, no matter what, even if the shoes haunted her for the rest of her life. It was tit for tat, after all the trouble they’d caused. But the note? The shoes could have it. She could care less. She tucked it back into the heel, then set the shoes upright on the table.

  As she did, the bathroom door swung open and Pinny emerged with puffy eyes and swollen cheeks. She’d been crying. Ray felt a stab of guilt. If she hadn’t left Pinny before, none of this would’ve happened. Still, though, she’d gone back to get her before JT could really hurt her. Today, she hadn’t been part of the Careenas, those everybodies who pretended to like Pinny but then pushed her aside. A peace came over her, like she’d done the right thing. And since she didn’t get that feeling much, she went with it.

  PINNY

  Pinny sat back down, relieved to see that the shoes were exactly where she’d left them. She was worried Ray might want them back, but that wouldn’t be fair. Ray’d thrown them away. She didn’t deserve them anymore. No…Ray should definitely let her keep them, as a way of saying sorry. She made squinty eyes at Ray, to match the mad inside.

  “You left me.” She squinted harder.

  Ray nodded. “Yes.” She sighed.

  “Why?” Pinny swallowed, staring at the table. “Is it because it’s hard? Being with me?” She didn’t want to say the next thing, but it was hankering to get out, so she let it. “People…they don’t always know how to be around me.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ray blew out a breath.

  “You know.” Her voice was cranky now. “Remember my dance-team tryouts? I saw you there, cleaning the bleachers. I got my…you-know-what.” Her face turned steamy thinking about it. “There was blood…on my shorts. Careena kept smiling at me, real biglike. I forgot about how she didn’t come to my party. I thought she loved my dance. But I heard what she said after about not being my friend. And about letting special ed deal with me. I didn’t get that other part until Mrs. Haley took me to the bathroom.” She watched Ray’s cheeks go cherry. “You were there, too. You saw.”

  Ray’s face shrank, and she slowly nodded.

  “You didn’t tell me. You let them…laugh.” She slapped her hand down on the table, and her fork crashed to the floor. “Why?”

  “I don’t know why!” Ray cried, tugging at the spiky hair hanging over her forehead. “I’m…I’m a chickenshit, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”

  “No.” She picked up her fork and gave it a pat by way of apology. “I wanted you to say that you didn’t see the blood. Then I’d believe you would’ve told me about it.”

  She folded her arms, staring out the window. She didn’t want to look at Ray. She was afraid she’d look too ugly. Meanness always made people look uglier. Ray leaned across the table and tapped her arm.

  “Look. I…I used to be brave. I used to fight. But then I got hurt too bad, so I stopped.” She sighed. “It wasn’t worth it.” She said it small and tired, looking down at those safety-pin shoes of hers.

  Pinny wondered if Ray was thinking about those scars on her feet. She might’ve given up, too, after scars like that. There was no telling what could wear a person down. “Maybe some people can’t hack it,” she said. “Being brave. Maybe that’s why I never met Daddy. He had a K name. Ken, or Kent, or something. Mama told me it, but it’s hard to remember it right, ’cause I don’t know him. He could’ve been afraid, of how I am.” The words were hot in her throat. “Sometimes
…sometimes I think Mama lost her magic shoes on purpose. That maybe she wanted to disappear. Maybe that’s how hard it was for her…taking care of me.” She bit her lip before it went quivery.

  “You shouldn’t think about things like that,” Ray said quickly, looking away.

  “Why not? Could be true.” Pinny shrugged, fiddling with her napkin. “Everyone wants to disappear sometimes. It’s only wrong if you don’t come back. That day, after the dance tryouts, I wished I could disappear. I saw the mean in Careena. I knew she’d never be nice to me really. I told her so, too.”

  “You did?” Ray’s eyes went big with surprise.

  “Yup.” Pinny’s chin jutted out. “I gave her back her birthday present. The one she got me. It was a good one, too.”

  “I remember,” Ray said. “It was that Wizard of Oz doll, right?”

  Pinny nodded, thinking about the Dorothy doll Mrs. Baddour had given her, and how pretty it was. It wasn’t a doll for babies. Mrs. Danvers had called it a “collectible” and said it was made out of something fancy. “Porchlean,” she thought it was called. But whenever Pinny looked at it, it made her stomach hurt, the way it did when she ate too many jelly beans. When the tryouts were over, after school that day, she’d gone to the Pennypinch. Careena was at the counter when she walked in. She was smiling, like always, but Pinny couldn’t find the nice in it anywhere this time. Come to think of it, Careena’s smile was kind of like JT’s that way—all teeth. Not much else.

  “Here.” She’d put the doll on the counter. “I don’t want this.”

  Careena’s smile wobbled. “But…it’s for you. You should keep it. Please…keep it.”

  “Why? So you feel better?” Pinny gave the doll a little push toward Careena. “Give it to your next best girl.”

  Then she walked right out of the shop with her stomach doing some happy growling, telling her it was ready for some jelly beans again.

  “I thought you loved that doll,” Ray said now.

  “I never missed it,” Pinny said. “Not even once.” She leaned toward Ray, making up her mind to push her anger clear out and away. ’Cause she sure didn’t want the meanness infecting her, no sirree. She took a deep breath and smiled. “You were a chickenshit yesterday. But you were brave today. You came back for me.”

  “Don’t say that.” Ray dropped her eyes to the table. “It’s not true.”

  “Suit yourself. But it’s in you.”

  “What?”

  “Goodness,” she said. “You can’t get rid of it, even though you keep trying.”

  Ray snorted. “Goodness won’t get us to New York. It can’t buy food. Or a hotel room.”

  “But it makes you happy,” Pinny said. She could tell by the brightness in Ray’s eyes. It was the sort of sparkle people got from doing right, and it looked pretty on Ray.

  Ray shrugged, then tapped the toe of one of the pale pink shoes. “How did these get here?”

  “I found them in the Dumpster at Smokebush,” Pinny said. “They don’t like being thrown away. You hurt their feelings. They don’t want you to take them back.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t want them back. You didn’t have to drag them along to New York, though.”

  “Did too,” Pinny said firmly, giving the shoes a hug. “They needed to come. They belong there.”

  Ray rolled her eyes. “Yeah…right.” Her laugh sounded like a goose choking. It was a hard sound. Not a real laugh at all.

  Pinny crossed her arms at Ray. “You don’t have to believe me, but they told me so. And I know shoes, remember?” She smiled. “I’m a good listener.”

  “Except when I’m talking, for some reason.” Ray smirked. “So, what, the shoes tell you secrets?”

  “I have an extra chromosome,” Pinny said. “It took points off my IQ, but maybe it added something, too. That’s what Mama used to say.” A waitress came over with menus and water, and Pinny took a big gulp. “I don’t know what a chromosome is. How come the right number makes other people smarter than me. Numbers don’t matter much anyway. Because sometimes smart people sure act stupid.” She raised an eyebrow at Ray and locked eyes with her. “But I don’t know any people like that.”

  Ray’s eyes ballooned, and then she laughed. This time the laugh was full of bubbles and hiccups, and it made Pinny laugh, too.

  “Okay, I deserved that.” Ray shook her head, muttering, “Chopine Miller, the Shoe Whisperer.” She waved her hand at the shoes. “Well, if they talk to you, then you should keep them.”

  “Thanks.” Pinny grinned. “ ’Cause I left my other ones back in the tent.” She slid the pale pink shoes onto her feet.

  “Do they fit?” Ray asked.

  When she wiggled her toes, her bones rubbed together. “They’re tight,” she admitted. “And one heel wobbles. But I love them.”

  “You’re not going to be able to walk far,” Ray said. “We’ll have to hitch.”

  She nodded. “What about food? I’m starving.”

  Ray slapped the menu shut. “Toast,” she said. “That’s it. We’re down to the five bucks I had in my pocket from yesterday.”

  “Toast and jelly beans.” Pinny grabbed her bag of black jellies from her backpack. “I gave the other food to Old Mabel. But she didn’t want these. Said licorice made her tongue go itchy.” She slid them across the table to Ray. “Delicious.”

  Ray stared at her, and then they both burst out laughing. They ordered and a few minutes later, their toast arrived. Pinny smeared hers with apricot jelly and ate it in three bites. Her stomach was rumbly, though, and jelly beans didn’t shush it.

  “I’m still hungry,” she started to say, but Ray motioned for her to be quiet.

  “See that woman over there at the counter?” Ray whispered. “She’s a trucker.”

  Pinny looked toward the counter. The woman who sat there had rivers of wrinkles running over her face, but her body was as thin and curvy as the dance-team girls’. She had a mess of blond curls piled high on her head and shimmery purple eye shadow. Then Pinny saw the woman’s boots over her tight jeans—turquoise cowboy boots studded with rhinestones. “Ooh,” Pinny exclaimed, “she looks like Dolly Parton, only prettier!”

  “Who cares what she looks like?” Ray said. “I heard her tell the waitress that her next delivery’s in New York.” Ray pointed out the diner window to a red truck being unloaded across the street.

  “I’ve never been in a truck before,” Pinny whispered. She clapped her hands. “And it matches my red shoes!” She held up the Mary Janes around her neck as proof.

  “I don’t know,” Ray said. “What if she’s some kind of crazy and we get stuck in the cab with her?” She narrowed her eyes at the woman. “She looks whacked.”

  “So do you,” Pinny said. “Your hair is a raccoon nest, and you make it look that way on purpose!”

  “A raccoon?” Ray touched her spiky hair. “Really?”

  Pinny nodded. “She’s not whacked. We can trust her.”

  “How do you know?” Ray asked.

  Pinny grinned. “Her shoes. I love her shoes.”

  “Are there any shoes you don’t love, Pinny?” Ray said. “You liked JT’s, remember?”

  “I can’t always be right,” she said, glaring at Ray. “You’re not perfect, either, you know.”

  Ray laughed, then looked at Dolly Parton again. “I like her shoes, too.” She shrugged. “That has to count for something.”

  Just then, Dolly Parton finished her coffee and asked for her bill.

  “Okay,” Ray whispered. “Let’s do it.” She threw their last five dollars down on the table, and then they left the diner and crossed the street.

  They hurried to the front of the truck, and when no one was around to see, Ray shimmied through the open window of the cab. Then she unlocked the door to let Pinny in.

  “Back here!” Ray moved past a curtain behind the seats into the back of the cab.

  “Wow!” Pinny said. “A whole bedroom!” There was a bed sticking out of
the wall, a TV hanging from the ceiling, even a tiny coffeemaker.

  Ray pulled the curtains closed, then crawled under the bed. Pinny scooted under, too, but once she was in, she could barely move, and neither could Ray.

  “How long do we have to stay down here?” Pinny whispered.

  “For as long as it takes to get to New York,” Ray said. “Shhh! She’s unlocking the door.”

  Pinny sucked in her breath and pressed her hands against the metal floor. The door opened and Dolly Parton got in. The truck rumbled and growled, and soon it began rocking. Pinny guessed they were driving on the road. She dropped her head onto her backpack and sighed. They were squashed together so tight that she could feel Ray’s body rising and falling as she breathed. It wasn’t too bad, though. The floor was warm from the truck driving, and she felt sleepy. Still, she had to shake her head every once in a while to keep that awful JT from getting stuck in it. Something else stuck in her head, too….What if Ray disappeared again? The thought made Pinny’s stomach sweat. She’d been sure she didn’t need the Life Plan, or anyone looking out for her. She’d liked JT so much, and she’d been wrong. She’d been wrong about the money, too. If she was alone, far away from Smokebush, what else would she mess up? If she couldn’t find Mama, if Ray left…Pinny slammed the door on that thought quick. Nope. Uh-uh. None of that was going to happen. No matter what, Ray would make sure she stayed safe. Ray was a good protector. She just didn’t know it yet.

  DALYA

  It was one week before the wedding, and she didn’t have shoes. She’d pushed them out of her mind, focusing instead on the dress she was sewing with the help of Ruth and Mrs. Blumberg. But when Ruth questioned her about her wedding shoes, an ache began in Dalya’s heart. There was only one pair of shoes she could imagine wearing to exchange vows with Aaron, one pair of shoes that would carry her across the threshold from girl to woman. Those shoes, and the secret tucked into one heel, were gone forever.

  When Aaron heard that she didn’t have shoes to wear, he insisted on taking her shopping.