The Secret Life of a Funny Girl

by Susan Chalker Browne

  Sister pushes a box of tissues across her desk toward me. “My child, I knew you were carrying a burden, but I had no idea it was so heavy.”

  I look up, sniffling, eyes glassy with tears.

  Sister Marion pauses, drumming her pen on the desk surface, still observing me closely. “What you have just told me helps me better understand your situation. However, it still does not excuse your behaviour with Miss Godwin, which is the reason for our meeting today. This sort of behaviour is unacceptable at Fatima Academy. As a result, there are repercussions.”

  “Yes, Sister.” I dab my nose with a tissue.

  “First, you must apologize to Miss Godwin immediately. Before the end of this school day. Second, you must promise me that you will never behave like this again, with Miss Godwin or anyone else.”

  “Yes, Sister, I promise.” I absolutely mean it. I know what I did was wrong —making a fool out of Miss Godwin just for a few laughs from the girls. “I swear that I will never act that way again. I’ll find Miss Godwin after school and apologize for my behaviour in her class.”

  “Good,” says Sister Marion, and her voice is back to crisp and precise. “I will check with Miss Godwin later to make sure the apology is a proper one. Normally, I would also impose a detention, but considering your current family obligations, I will forgo that penalty for the time being. However, if there are any further problems, I will be contacting your father.”

  “I understand, Sister.”

  Sister Marion looks like there’s something more she’d like to say; her eyes rest on me thoughtfully.

  “Maureen. About your mother. You and your family may feel you are the only ones in the world struggling with this situation. Let me assure you this is not the case. People don’t like to talk about these problems, but they are common in many families.”

  Now I’m the one watching Sister closely. Where is she going with this? The nun turns her head, looks out the window.

  “Some people call it bad nerves. I have seen it many times over the years. Women too sick to get out of bed. Men unable to hold down a job. Everyone else trying to do the chores and cover up the trouble. It’s very difficult. But it happens all the time.”

  Now Sister’s eyes are on me again, open and direct like there are no barriers between us. “Your mother may always need a little extra attention, Maureen. You may find you need to help out at home more than other girls your age. And you must be careful never to cause her any upset or confusion.”

  “Yes, Sister.”

  Sister stands up, neatly rearranging the papers on her desk. “I believe I’ve kept you from class long enough. Mrs. Doyle must be wondering what’s become of you.”

  “Thank you, Sister,” I say, rising from my seat. “I really appreciate everything you’ve said to me today. I’ll apologize to Miss Godwin this afternoon, right after class.”

  Sister dips her head slightly in response, already back into prim vice-principal demeanour. “Just one more thing,” she adds, as I have my hand on the doorknob.

  “Yes, Sister?”

  “You’re doing a remarkable job at home, Maureen. To be honest, I find it inspiring. Keep it up.”

  Praise from Sister Marion? Whoa, can you believe this? “Thank you very much, Sister,” I say, smiling. “I will.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lightly, hesitantly, i knock on the music room door.

  “Maybe I should go.” Debbie chews her bottom lip, looks around.

  “Leave me here by myself? Forget it!”

  “But this is your apology, Maureen, not mine!”

  “Shhh! She’s coming!”

  There’s a soft scuffing behind the door, then it creaks open wide. “Hello, girls,” says Miss Godwin. She looks at us, curiously. “What can I do for you?”

  “Hi, Miss.” Suddenly my heart is pounding so hard I wonder if she can hear it. “Miss Godwin, there’s something I’d like to say to you. Is this a good time?”

  “Of course. I’m always happy to talk to you, Maureen.” Then she looks at Debbie and lifts her eyebrows.

  “Miss, I’m just here with Maureen. If that’s okay, I mean.”

  “Yes, of course it is, Debbie. Come right in.”

  I’m trying hard to get a reading on Miss Godwin here, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. She’s being kind and polite, as usual. But there’s a little distance too, like she’s holding herself back. Like she’s trying to figure us out.

  Debbie and I huddle together by the choir risers as Miss Godwin leans against her wooden desk and folds her hands before her. She looks at us, expectantly. Says nothing.

  Yikes!

  I cough, clear my throat. “Miss, I’m really sorry about all the fuss I caused in class.” Might as well get right to the point.

  “Well, Maureen, I’m glad to hear that.”

  Silence.

  I squirm, shift my books to the other arm. “Yes, Miss. It was wrong of me to cause all that fuss. I don’t know what came over me. I guess maybe I was bored.”

  “You were bored? That’s your excuse?”

  Debbie’s foot comes down hard on mine. I take a deep gulp. “Well, not so much bored, Miss, that’s probably the wrong word. I’m not sure why I acted that way. But I feel really badly about it now.”

  Miss Godwin looks like she’s not totally buying this. And for some reason I can’t keep my eyes off that bulging pocket on her brown cardigan. Stuffed full of tissues, I bet. Such a weird habit.

  “Maureen, to be honest, your behaviour was completely unacceptable.”

  “Miss, what Maureen is trying to say is that she feels terrible about the whole thing and will never act that way again.” Thank you, Debbie!

  “Yes, Miss, it’s true.” I nod my head vigorously. “Never again. I promise.”

  “Maureen’s mother has been quite sick, Miss. Did you know that? She’s still in hospital, isn’t she, Maureen?” Debbie locks her two eyes fast upon mine.

  Oh, please. Is it necessary to drag Mom into this?

  But it’s too late. Miss Godwin’s face has turned all concerned and worried. “I did hear that.” She steps toward me. Okay, that’s close enough. “Has she been in hospital long?”

  I sigh. You know, I would really prefer not to do this. “She’s been in hospital over a month, Miss. We’re hoping she’ll be home soon, though.”

  I don’t say what’s wrong with Mom. And Miss Godwin is too much the English lady to ever ask. She just nods her head slowly, sympathetically.

  “See, Miss, it’s been a hard time for Maureen, her mom in hospital and all that,” adds Debbie. “And she’s taking care of Beth-Ann, her little sister. You know Beth-Ann, don’t you, Miss?”

  “Beth-Ann? Of course I know her. She’s a little angel.” She advances a couple more steps. Please, no farther.

  “So it’s just been a really difficult time for Maureen, Miss. She’s under a lot of pressure. You understand, don’t you, Miss Godwin?”

  Hey, that’s enough. Does she have to lay it on so thick?

  “Maureen, I’m sorry about your mother. Clearly, this has been an extremely challenging situation for you and your family.” Miss Godwin pulls a large white tissue from her pocket, dabs at her nose, and makes her final move.

  Oh no!

  Two thin arms wrap around my back, pulling me into her long, flat chest. The wool sweater scratches against my face and I’m smothered by the smell of peppermint. Cripes! Can you believe this?

  “Don’t you give that behaviour another thought,” says Miss Godwin, patting my back. “I fully accept your apology.”

  “I’m sorry too, Miss, about your Mozart record,” I say, in a muffled voice. Might as well get this part in now. “I really didn’t mean for it to be ruined. That was awful.”

  “Don’t y
ou worry about that.” Miss Godwin finally releases me. “That was an accident. The record can easily be replaced.”

  I glance over at Debbie, who’s staring hard out the window, afraid to look at me for fear of laughing.

  “So anyway, Miss, we better get going now.” I step back a bit, straighten up my hair. “But I really wanted to stop by today and let you know that you’ll never have to worry about me in class again. I’ll be the absolute best student you ever had!”

  Debbie’s head whips around from the window at this last remark. Okay, that was probably a bit rich, but hey, if you have to apologize you might as well make it a good one.

  “I’m sure that you will be.” Miss Godwin’s eyes are tender and full of warmth. “And Maureen, I truly hope your mother recovers quickly.”

  Debbie and I can’t get out of there fast enough.

  The door clicks behind us, the two of us scurry down the corridor, then collapse into each other, sputtering and talking at the same time.

  “That had to be the most horrible hug of my life!”

  “Maureen, I thought I was going to explode!”

  “My God, Debbie, all that stuff about Mom? That’s the whole reason she hugged me! Did you have to get into all that?”

  “Well, I didn’t have much choice. You were about to self-destruct. You were bored? What sort of an apology is that?”

  “I guess I didn’t think it through. Good thing you were there or I might be headed back to Sister Marion. I finished up better than I started, didn’t I?”

  “That’s quite a promise you made. ‘The absolute best student’ she ever had? Now you’re going to have to live up to it. ”

  “Just watch me! At least the apology is over with. Debbie, you don’t want to know how terrible it was in Sister’s office this afternoon. I’ve never seen her so angry. I would have promised anything to Miss Godwin today just to keep Sister Marion happy.”

  We step out into a damp day in May, the drizzle forming droplets in our hair. The parking lot is mostly empty now. All the mothers picking up their kids have already left.

  “What about Beth-Ann? Don’t you have to get her?”

  “Not today. She’s invited over to Lisa’s house to play and they’ll drop her off later. Listen, why don’t you come back to Aunt Kay’s with me? I know she wouldn’t mind.”

  “Okay, sure. Why not?”

  We giggle and chat as we head across Churchill Park and up the sidewalk by Monty’s Delicatessen. A mob of teenagers is milling around the outside. There’s rough laughter, some pushing, and thin streams of cigarette smoke curling above the crowd. Debbie and I exchange a nervous look and quietly cross the road. But we’re not quick enough.

  “Hey, Maureen!” It’s Evelyn Coady, standing in the centre of it all, waving her arm at me.

  Cripes!

  “Hi, Evelyn,” I say, with a limp flick of my hand.

  “Come on over!”

  Desperately, I turn to Debbie, for support, advice, anything. She looks panic-stricken. “No way!” she whispers. “Are you nuts?”

  “I’m not interested, believe me!” I whisper back, my heart beating so hard in my ears I can hardly hear. “Thanks, Evelyn,” I call out, a tremor in my voice. “But we’ve got to get going.”

  “Going where? Don’t be so foolish. Come over and have a smoke.”

  “Yeah, Maureen. Why don’t you and Debbie come on over. Bet you never had a smoke before, did you?” This from Patsy Gallagher, who’s pushed herself to the edge of the crowd. By now all the talking and laughing has died away and the entire gang has turned to size us up.

  “No, really, thanks, we can’t,” I say, feeling the blood rush into my cheeks. “We’ve got, uh, stuff to do.”

  “Stuff to do?” repeats Patsy, sneering. “Really. Like what? Study?” Then she breaks into a burst of laughter. Instantly the whole crowd joins in.

  “This is ridiculous,” hisses Debbie. “Let’s just go.”

  “Maureen, come on now,” calls out Evelyn in a wheedling voice. “You’re hurting my feelings here.”

  “You know what I think?” shouts out Patsy, her voice as hard and mean as the searing white sun of a July heat wave. “I think Maureen’s on her way out to the Mental! Yeah, that’s it. She can’t have a smoke with us ’cause she’s on her way out to the Mental to visit her crazy mother.”

  Oh my God.

  The mob behind us hoots and jeers.

  “Is that true? Is her mother really crazy?”

  “Out at the Mental? Are you serious?”

  “Too bad, ’cause she’s kind of cute. Wonder if it runs in the family?”

  And now Debbie and I are race-walking. Past Giant Mart, around the corner to Rowan Street. “Don’t look back,” says Debbie, her voice low and steady. “Don’t say a word. Just keep moving.”

  My breath is coming so fast, I wonder if I’m going to faint. Beside me, Debbie is steaming mad, eyes blazing straight ahead, one hand on my arm to steady me.

  “I have never in my life heard anything so ignorant. Who does that Patsy Gallagher think she is? No one has any right to say those things. I am never speaking to that girl again.”

  It’s all I can do to keep one foot in front of the other, to keep breathing, to keep my two eyes focused as we head down Poplar Avenue toward the safety of Aunt Kay’s little bungalow.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I KNOW SOMETHING’S WRONG. It’s written all over your faces. You might as well tell me now and get it over with.”

  Aunt Kay is standing by the stove, a yellow-flowered apron protecting her navy dress. There’s a flour smudge on her nose from baking chocolate chip cookies and the tiny kitchen is full of the warm, sweet smell.

  Debbie and I exchange a worried look, cast our eyes down, like two convicted felons standing before the bench, waiting for the judge to pass down sentence.

  “Something’s up, that’s for sure,” says Aunt Grace, taking a long drag from a cigarette, her beady eyes drilling right through me. “Never saw two guiltier-looking girls in all my life.”

  Cripes! Just my luck for Aunt Grace to be here, sitting at the kitchen table like she owns the place. Like I don’t have enough to deal with already.

  What choice do we have? Between the two of us, we sputter out the story. I know Debbie’s outside the family and we’re supposed to keep all this to ourselves, but it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? All the sorry details emerge. The gang of teenagers up outside of Monty’s. Patsy Gallagher’s vicious remark. The nasty insults of her friends.

  Aunt Kay’s features slacken and she sits down hard on a kitchen chair. “Dear God,” she says, one hand covering her forehead. “Just when this is nearly over.”

  “Who’s this Patsy Gallagher, anyway?” Aunt Grace flicks cigarette ash in the ashtray before her. “Why was she calling out to you?”

  “She’s just a girl in our class, same as Evelyn Coady,” I say, as politely as I can manage. “They’re both pretty tough. Debbie and I don’t have much to do with them.”

  “Well, you must have had something to do with them if they were asking you to have a cigarette.”

  I think back to my big performance with Miss Godwin and the record player and Evelyn and Patsy joining in on the action. Obviously, there’s no way I’m getting into that. I glance sideways at Debbie. “No, Aunt Grace. We don’t have anything to do with Evelyn and Patsy.”

  “Really?” she asks, a suspicious look on her face. “Strange, then, that they’d be asking you to smoke. Sure you never did that before? Had a cigarette or two?”

  “No!” I shout.

  “Grace!” says Aunt Kay, looking appalled.

  “Mrs. Abbott,” says Debbie. “Maureen and I have never ever taken a single puff of a cigarette. You don’t have to worry about that. We think i
t’s a dirty habit and they say now it’s bad for your health.” She looks pointedly at the ashtray before Aunt Grace.

  Score one for Debbie! Grace’s eyes narrow even more. “Just asking.”

  “Grace,” says Aunt Kay. “This is all very much beside the point. How dare those two girls speak to Maureen like that! It’s an absolute outrage. I know exactly what I’m going to do. I’m calling Sister Marion myself, let her deal with it.”

  “No! Aunt Kay, please don’t!” This is all I need. Aunt Kay on the phone to Sister Marion? I don’t think so. The whole sorry story about me and Miss Godwin could definitely tumble out and I’d be in the worst trouble of my life. “That’ll just make everything worse. Evelyn and Patsy will really have it in for me then.” Which is also very true.

  “Maureen, you simply can’t allow people to walk over you like that.”

  “Can we just leave it alone, please? Everyone seems to know about Mom, anyway. Calling Sister will just draw more attention to the situation.”

  Aunt Kay sighs heavily and looks at Grace, who shrugs her shoulders. “Hard to keep anything a secret in this town,” says Grace, butting out her cigarette. Honestly, what a hypocrite.

  There’s a silence. In the distance we can hear Billy and Bobby whooping it up.

  “Hmm, goodness, look at the time. It’s after four. Certainly took you girls a while to get here today. I guess if you didn’t stop by Monty’s then you must have stayed after school. Doing what, I wonder?” It’s Aunt Grace, of course, diving in on the time difference, just like a hawk.

  What a busybody! Why does she even care? Seems all Aunt Grace wants to do is get me in trouble. What is her problem, anyway? Her question floats in the air like a bubble about to burst.

  “Girls?” says Aunt Kay, watching us both.

  “We stopped by Miss Godwin’s music room after school.” I direct my answer to Aunt Kay, studiously avoiding Aunt Grace’s level gaze.

  Aunt Kay frowns slightly. “Why would you do that?”