“Uh-huh, Carla. She’s going to college next week.”
“And the boy?”
“That’s Denny,” Lisa said. Georgie liked the way Lisa’s eyes came to life when she said his name.
“Denny, huh? Is he your favorite?”
“Gosh, no! Carla’s my favorite! And Alan. He’s my older brother. Denny’s the world’s biggest brat.”
Georgie laughed. “Okay, so there’s Carla, Denny, and Alan. Where’s Alan?”
Lisa pulled at a long strand of hair. “He’s … not here.”
From the other side of the willow branches Georgie heard, “Georgie, wanna go now!”
Then Georgie got yanked backward.
Lisa looked at the leash pulling Georgie’s arm and said, “Are you walking your dog?”
Georgie raised her eyebrows. “You think dogs can talk?” She parted the willow branches to show John to Lisa.
“John, knock it off or I’ll tie you to one of the fireworks,” Georgie said. “You’ll explode all over town.”
John’s face scrunched up to cry. “Georgie, you can’t!”
“I won’t, as long as you’re good,” Georgie said. She turned back to Lisa. “So, where do you go to school?”
“I live on the North Ridge side, but I’m in middle school and this year they’re consolidating with—”
“Glendale! That’s where we live. Are you in seventh grade?”
Lisa nodded.
“Me, too! Far out.”
John began crying in earnest now.
Georgie said, “I’ve got to get this crybaby back to Mom. Maybe I’ll see you at school, Lisa Loutzenhiser, whose family doesn’t care who they are.”
Lisa called out, “I didn’t say that.”
But Georgie didn’t answer. She had already backed out of the branches and was heading toward Mom with John in tow.
Later, after everyone had been fed and the parents had finally come to collect their kids, Georgie and Mom were able to relax. Georgie lay back on one elbow and gazed at the moon, thinking of her father. When Dad left for Vietnam, he had taken her outside and said in his soft Southern drawl, “You see that moon up there? When it’s night in Vietnam, it’s daytime here.”
“I know,” Georgie had said.
“Do you realize that means I’ll see the moon before you do?” He’d taken her hands and said, “So if you start missin’ me, just look up because every night I’ll send my love to you on the moon.”
And every night she had looked up. A full moon was Georgie’s favorite, filling her with hope and love for her dad. But tonight’s was a first-quarter moon, only halfway to plumping its way back to full.
One by one, the bright explosions of fireworks took over the sky. Georgie rolled onto her stomach and stared at the stand of willow trees.
“A penny for your thoughts, sugar,” Mom said. She always said dumb stuff like that, trying to get into Georgie’s mind.
“I don’t have a thought in my head, Mom,” Georgie said. But that wasn’t true. She was thinking that the only thing weirder about that girl Lisa hiding from her family all that time was how they just went about their business, as if they never once noticed she was gone.
3
Georgie checked the room number against her schedule. They both read “J-3.” She put her hand on her stomach, trying to quiet the heaving sensation before going inside. It was the same feeling she got on a roller coaster. Riding roller coasters and going to new schools—they never got any easier, but Georgie had learned not to let it show. She took a deep breath and sauntered into her homeroom as if she’d been going there for years. She chose a seat where she could get a good look at the door, because a good surveillance post is always an advantage.
Slowly the room began filling with kids, dazed from fighting new lockers and searching for classrooms. Georgie knew that’s how she usually looked, but this time everyone was a new student. It was almost fun to sit back and watch the kids coming in, with their eyes darting around and arms close to their bodies, as if they were afraid they had B.O.
One of the last to walk in was the girl from the park yesterday. What was her name? Lisa. Lisa something-weird.
Lisa walked to a desk and swung her long blond hair behind her without taking her hands off her books. Girls like that always fascinated Georgie. The kind who could grab a rubberband off a rolled newspaper and use it to whip her hair into a perfect ponytail without ever looking in a mirror. Georgie had to keep her own wayward, wiry strands under a bandana or hat of some sort.
A boy walked by and said, “Hi, Loutzenhiser.”
Loutzenhiser! That was it. Georgie repeated it to herself so she would remember.
Lisa pulled her hair behind her ears and softly said, “Hi, Craig.”
Yuck. Why didn’t she just announce her crush on him over the PA system? The way her head ducked and her face turned pink said it anyway.
Georgie looked the boy over. Craig had hair that curled up at his collar and bangs in his eyes, just like that singer everybody thought was so cute, Bobby Sherman. Craig was too well kept, too … soft … to be Georgie’s type. But then, Georgie wasn’t sure she had a type. One thing she knew for sure, though, was that if she ever liked a boy, she wasn’t going to like one who was prettier than she was. Plus he wore a leather string around his neck with a peace sign hanging from it. Definitely not her type.
The bell rang and everyone scrambled to a seat.
“Hello, class. I’m Miss Horton and I’ll be your homeroom teacher. I’ve taught math at Glendale Middle School for twenty-three years.”
The teacher hesitated and craned her long neck around the room. She smiled as if she were waiting for applause.
“Of course, this year is a little different, isn’t it? This is our first year with North Ridge. I’m sure you all know that merging the two schools wasn’t a popular idea among many of the citizens of Glendale—particularly citizens who live on the North Ridge side of town.”
“Try riding a bus all that way and see how you feel!” someone yelled from the back of the classroom.
The entire class began talking at once. Georgie was already sick of people complaining about the two towns merging and she had lived here only a few months.
Miss Horton clapped her hands until the room was quiet again. “We realize it will be a little difficult at first. The staff here at Glendale Middle School understands that you used to be rival schools and now you’re one and the same. At least we have this lovely new building! And Principal Gordon has come up with a fun idea for us to get to know one another.”
When was a principal’s idea ever fun? Georgie opened her notebook with a big flip and began drawing a picture of a giraffe’s body with Miss Horton’s head. The guy beside Georgie saw it and smiled at her. He motioned to the kids behind him to look at it.
“This homeroom has an equal number of students from Glendale and North Ridge and—” Miss Horton stopped when she heard the kids snickering at Georgie’s drawing. “Excuse me, when a teacher is talking we listen.”
Georgie kept her head down. With a touch a magician would admire, she slid the page to a clean sheet and scribbled.
“Young lady, did you hear me?” Miss Horton asked. “What’s your name?”
Georgie looked up and said, “Yes, I heard you. My name is Georgia Collins.”
“Then repeat what I said, Georgia Collins.”
“You said”—Georgie sat tall and raised her voice high, like Miss Horton’s—“when a teacher is talking we listen.”
Miss Horton’s eyes bulged out of her bony face. Georgie loved it when teachers went berserk, and Miss Horton looked about to blow. Still, it was her first day. No sense in making unnecessary enemies.
“But we are allowed to take notes, right?” Georgie gave Mrs. Horton a huge smile that was as fake as pink fur. “I wanted to make sure I got down all the details of this fun way of getting to know one another.”
Georgie held up her notebook to show the words Fun and Gett
ing acquainted.
“Oh!” Miss Horton chirped. “Well, yes, that’s fine.” Her hand stroked her throat and she wore a confused look, as if she knew she’d been tricked but wasn’t sure how.
“As I was saying, there is a chart in front of the principal’s office. Each student from North Ridge will be paired with a student from Glendale. It’s a way to not only get acquainted but also help our newly formed town. We’re calling the program Good Deeds for Glendale. I’m sure you’ll find there are a lot of pleasant projects.”
She picked up a stack of papers. “Principal Gordon is giving everyone until the end of the week to find someone from the other school to work with. If you haven’t signed up by then, you will be paired with another student.”
Groans rose from the back of the room.
“I know this is something new and new things often don’t sound appealing. But it will be a very easy way for you to improve your English and health grades.”
Miss Horton began passing out mimeographed sheets. Georgie picked up her paper and breathed in the sharp, sweet smell of the blue ink.
“As you can see, you will be expected to turn in a joint report on the good deed you performed as a team in six weeks—the end of the first grading period.”
Georgie was listening closely to Miss Horton.
“This report will count toward half of your English grade. A log of the time you spent working on your assignment and its outcome—as well as how your relationship with your partner evolves—will be considered a health experiment and will count toward half of your health grade.”
“Wait a minute,” the boy next to Lisa said. “You mean that if we don’t do this, we’ll get an F for half of our English and health grades?”
“That’s exactly right.” Miss Horton raised her head and squeezed the rest of the mimeographs against her scrawny chest.
A chorus of “That stinks!” and “You’ve got to be kidding me!” rang out.
Miss Horton clapped her hands. “Remember, people, attitude is everything! Think fun and it will be!”
Beneath Fun Georgie wrote in her notebook, “Think stupid and it will be!”
* * *
Lisa gathered her books to leave and Georgie fell into step with her.
“Hey, you’re Lisa Loutzenhiser, right?”
“Right!” She was obviously pleased that Georgie had remembered her name. “How’s your little brother?” she asked.
“I don’t have a brother,” Georgie said.
“But—” Lisa stammered. “At the park. What was his name? John!”
“Oh, my mother babysits. I was helping her out. You’d be surprised how many people want to dump their kids on someone else.”
A girl walking from the other direction pushed her shoulder into Lisa, nearly knocking her down.
“Oh, sorry,” Lisa said, even though it hadn’t been her fault.
The girl asked in a voice that was practically arctic, “So, Lisa, how does Alan like his new home?”
“Um, I don’t know,” Lisa answered as she hurried away.
“Who was that?” Georgie asked, keeping up with her.
“That was Kathy Newman. We used to be best friends.”
“Used to be?”
“Well, yeah, you know. Things change.” Lisa stopped at her locker.
“She ran into you and you apologized,” Georgie said.
“I know,” Lisa said. “I—I don’t want to talk about it.” She tried to work the combination, but her fingers looked clumsy.
“Need help?” Georgie asked.
“No. It’s just that these new locks are kind of stiff, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t have a problem with mine,” Georgie said. Deep down, she suspected that Lisa was concentrating on her locker combination to give herself time to recover from seeing this Kathy person. It was a good stalling maneuver and Georgie admired her for it, so she decided to let the subject drop.
“Ready?” Georgie said when Lisa had gathered her books.
“Yes,” Lisa said. “So you’re from Glendale and I’m from North Ridge.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So we could be partners. I mean, if you want to.”
“I could be partners with anyone in this building. I just moved here, remember? I don’t know anyone. The last school I went to was in Illinois,” Georgie said. She stopped at the principal’s office. “Hey, want to have a laugh?”
“Sure,” Lisa said.
Georgie walked over to the sign-up poster listing the options for Good Deeds for Glendale. She ran her finger down the selections: “Former First Lady Lady Bird Johnson’s call to Keep America Beautiful. Probably picking up trash. Then there’s Animal Care, Health Care, Tutoring—don’t you love how vague they are?”
“Animal Care might be pet sitting. That could be fun.”
“It might be mucking horse crap out of a stall, too,” Georgie said, making a face.
“We have to sign up. I mean, she said they would pair us with someone if we didn’t.”
“Right. So we sign up.” Georgie grabbed the pencil that was swinging from a string and wrote under Health Care, “Georgia Collins and Ringo Starr.”
“Ringo Starr!” Lisa laughed.
“Too well known?” Georgie asked. She erased the name and said, “Wait, I read that his real name is Richard Starkey.” She penciled it in.
Then she asked, “How do you spell your last name?”
“Umm, L-o-u-t-z-e-n-h-i-s-e-r.”
A boy stood next to Georgie, looking at the poster. He said, “What kind of name is that?”
Georgie answered, “Spanish. Geez, I can’t believe you didn’t know that.”
The boy shrugged and left.
Lisa laughed. “Thanks! I hate the attention my last name gets.”
“No problem,” Georgie said. “Just remember, when someone says something you don’t like, snap right back. It throws them off guard.”
What was it about this girl that made Georgie want to toughen her up?
“What’s your favorite song?” Georgie asked.
“I guess it’s ‘Bridge over Troubled Water,’” Lisa said.
“Oh! Good one. Simon and Garfunkel.” Georgie thought a moment. “Instead of Paul Simon or Art Garfunkel, we’ll combine their names.” Then she wrote: “Lisa Loutzenhiser and Simon Garfunkel.”
“Oh, Georgie! I can’t do that!” Lisa said.
“They probably won’t even catch on,” Georgie said.
“But I don’t understand,” Lisa said. “We’ll still have to do the project, right?”
“I suppose.” Georgie sighed. “But we won’t have to work with a real partner. There’ll be no one to rat on us if we don’t want to work on it every week. And best of all, it’ll be fun to see if they figure it out.”
Lisa squeezed her books tight and tried to act cool about the whole thing. Georgie could tell it was a struggle.
“I don’t think I’ll do that. No offense.” Lisa erased “Simon Garfunkel.”
Well, Georgie definitely didn’t want to be stuck with some dud friend. She decided to throw out a little test to see if Lisa was the type of person she wanted to be around.
“Let me guess,” Georgie said. “You’re one of those rule followers, aren’t you? Teacher’s pet. That kind of person?”
Lisa twisted the string around the pencil. “No, I’m not a rule follower all the time.”
“So, what about this time?”
Lisa hesitated a couple of seconds, then wrote Richard Starkey over the erased spot next to her name. “Loutzenhiser and Garfunkel are both unusual names. We’ll have to switch imaginary partners to not draw attention.”
Georgie smiled. This time for real.
4
The worst part of Georgie’s day should have been the best—going home. It was 3:45 and the babies would be waking from their naps. It would be another two hours before the last monster went home.
She took a deep breath at the back door and walked int
o the kitchen.
“Hi, sugar!” Mom called. “How was your day?”
Georgie followed her mother’s voice into the living room. A couch was positioned at one end, the television at the other, and on each side Mom had squeezed in two cribs. Georgie looked in at Mom, sitting in the middle of the floor with babies swarming over her like ants on a dropped cookie. “Probably not as exciting and fun-filled as a day of babysitting,” she said dryly.
“Oh, we had a fine day! Jennifer said her first word! Of course, I can’t tell her mommy. She’d be so upset that she missed it. I’ll wait until Jennifer says it at home.” Mom picked up the baby and blew raspberries on her tummy, then said in baby talk, “She’ll have such a surprise, won’t she, Jenny-girl?”
“Yuck,” Georgie said. She walked back into the kitchen and reached above the cabinet, where she kept her snacks hidden from the little kids.
John jumped out from under the kitchen table. He was wearing a metal strainer on his head as a helmet. “Pop! Pop! Pop!” He fired his cap gun at Georgie, who ignored him. “You’re dead!” he yelled.
“You’re wrong,” she said without looking at him.
“I’m not!” he said. “I shot you! Now fall down!”
“One, I knew you were there. Two, your aim was off. If that had been a real gun, you would have missed me. And most important of all is three, which is that you just have a junky toy gun, so I’m not dead and I’m not falling down,” she said. His lower lip stuck out. What a sissy.
“I’ll be in my room,” she called, and slammed the door, drowning out whatever Mom was saying. Why couldn’t her mother be like other women? If she wanted to work, fine, but do it someplace else. It was getting so Georgie couldn’t even eat an apple without checking for teeth marks and spit.
She threw her books on the bed and stretched out. Her room was the only place in the house where she found any peace, because it was the only room that was off-limits to the brat brigade. Georgie loved her room. It was painted a nice, solid blue. She’d had to fight Mom on that one.
“Oh, Georgie, blue is a boy’s color,” she’d said.
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