“I can read,” said Sully.
“That’s not what I meant,” said Blossom. “Reading practically is my life. Trust me on this. We’re going to do something fantastic.”
“Great.” Sully rolled his eyes, which made him a little nauseous given their current location.
“You’re right,” Blossom said, “it is great. Let’s meet after school so we can get started.”
“If you two are finished,” said Wippet, nodding in Sully’s direction, “can you tell me what the Lady is weaving in Tennyson’s poem?”
Sully jerked back in his seat, looking hopefully around.
“Yes, you, Sullivan,” Wippet continued. “Tell me what you think.”
Sully stuttered a few incoherent words that raised giggles from his classmates.
“Quiet, class. We’re all here to learn.” Wippet nodded at Sully. “Please, Sullivan, continue.”
“A tapestry?” said Sully.
“True on a literal level,” said Wippet. “Anyone else?”
Relieved to be let off the hook, Sully relaxed back into his seat.
Beside him, Blossom sketched an intricate flower in brilliant shades on the inside of her arm. The lines from her pen flowed seamlessly from the other flowers and vines he’d previously presumed were permanent tattoos.
CHAPTER 14
Sully’s fingers stumbled over Charlie Brown as he dragged his hand along the fence rail between True Street and Perdu Avenue. The little figurines had been repositioned along the weathered wood, or maybe the wind had just turned them. Charlie Brown’s hands remained duct-taped to his face, and Pumbaa still crouched at his feet, but he now had his back to Sleeping Beauty and the Knight who, though still proffering flowers, were closer together and turned away from Darth Vader, Goyle, and The Riddler.
A fracture of sunlight blinked from near the roof the way it had the afternoon before. Sully’s gaze galloped to the source in time to see a hand pull away from the curtains. Even closed, however, the cloth was flimsy enough to reveal the outline of a figure looking down at him.
Sully hauled his gaze back to the sidewalk. He suddenly felt a little like he was walking underwater, as he turned his body to the corner and willed his legs to carry him there. He could feel the eyes from the window watching his every move as closely as if they were glued to his back.
He dared a peek back at the purple house only after he’d reached the end of the street, and then chided himself for overreacting. Whoever lived there apparently had a wicked throwing arm, but with his or her fixation on little plastic toys, probably had the iq of a squirrel.
There was only one other person on Perdu, a block up and on the opposite side. Sully put his head down and contemplated the sidewalk as he sorted through his thoughts. This walk would become tiresome in bad weather, but he’d only have to do it until mid-October. End of October at the latest. Just until Tank selected his victim.
It was only because of the eye sitting at the top of his forehead that Sully became aware that the person up ahead, a middle-aged woman, had crossed over to his side of the street. Now only yards away, she planted herself in the middle of the sidewalk and stared straight at him.
It was the woman with the purse.
Without missing a step, Sully veered off the sidewalk and crossed to the other side.
He’d only taken three steps, however, when she was on the move again. This time she crossed the road on a diagonal that would put them face to face within ten yards.
Sully stepped into the street on a ninety-degree angle to dodge their inevitable collision, but the woman turned then, too. She headed straight toward him until they came to a stop, face-to-face, in the middle of the road.
The Purse Lady stared unblinking and then leaned toward him and squinted. Sully shrunk back and sidled sideways to break their awkward encounter. Unabashed, the woman took another step toward him and then leaned slightly back herself, as if to get a better look.
She knit her brow and placed her hands on her hips.
As Sully took another step back, she bellowed, “Boy! What happened to your face?”
CHAPTER 15
Sully moved his mouth to say something, but all that came out was empty air. He watched as the woman placed her index fingers on the lids of her eyes and then traced a path around her face, coming to rest in the exact position in the middle of her face that Sully’s own eyes currently inhabited.
She cocked her head to one side and then extended two fingers to within inches of his mouth, before sweeping them back to her own mouth and then to the left side of her face.
“What happened to your face?” she said again.
Before he could answer, something round and green rolled from across the street, and spun to a stop between them.
Sully looked in the direction it had come from, but there was no one there.
Or maybe there was. Something vaguely human-looking stood, barely visible, behind the stalks of ragweed. Sully squinted to get a better look, as a long metal stick dragged slowly out of view behind the weeds.
“Oh!” gasped the woman.
Sully turned back to find her reaching for something on the road between them. She stood slowly and studied the green ball she’d picked up. Another walnut p0d.
She turned it over and over in her hand. She held it up at eye level as if she expected it to hatch or morph into something else. She breathed on it and polished it against her shoulder, even though the thick rind was coarse and nubbly.
Sully stepped sideways, away from her. Curious, he watched for a moment as she extracted a folded piece of paper from the big black purse that hung over her shoulder. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the paper and placed the fruit on top. The circular drawing in the middle of the page was a little smaller than the pod, and multi-colored, like a little rainbow.
“It’s just a walnut pod,” Sully offered. “And what did you mean about my face?”
She scared him a little. Maybe more than a little. But what did she mean about his face? If she could see what happened to him where no one else could, that seemed important.
The Purse Lady dropped the walnut pod and held the piece of paper against her chest, while staring at the air in front of her.
“Hello?” Sully said. “Tell me what you mean about my face.”
She refolded the paper, tucked it carefully back in her purse, and then crossed to the sidewalk away from him, before plodding slowly back up the street the way she came.
CHAPTER 16
Out of the corner of his eyes, Sully saw something move along True Street. As he turned to look, the front door of the purple house swung shut. He picked up the walnut pod and closed his fist around it. A useful weapon if he were ever to need one.
Long after arriving home, he debated with himself about what he would do the next time he saw the Purse Lady, but his meditation was ambushed by a statement from Eva at dinner.
“I drew a picture in class today that the teacher liked,” said Eva, “and Rooster did some art, too.”
“Why, you’re not even in Vanny’s school, Princess,” said Bill.
“My friend Jennifer’s brother Nathan picked her up at school today and he told me.”
“Sullivan?” said Mom.
“I have no idea what she’s talking about,” said Sully. Distracted by thoughts of the Purse Lady, he spilled peas from his fork as he pointed it to the side of his face.
“The dolls,” said Eva. “The little white women.”
“I got nothing,” said Sully.
“Brewster,” insisted Eva. “Nathan said so. The paper dolls. No. Not paper. Napkins, I think he said. He said even the Principal wanted to see it, and that I should let Mom and Dad know because you might be too shy. He said the whole school saw it. Good job, Brewster.”
Fiery heat climbed from the nose on Sully’s neck to the ear
on top of his head, as it dawned on him what Eva was referring to.
“Sullivan?” Mom said again.
“Whoa,” said Bill. “What’s with the sudden sunburn, Vanny. Don’t be embarrassed to share your good news.”
“It’s nothing,” said Sully. “Nathan was just making a joke. It wasn’t even my work.”
“Don’t be modest,” said Bill.
“Yes,” agreed Eva. “Don’t be modest. Nathan said you made it. The little women made of napkins that floated down the school stairs.”
Bill gave Sully a confused look as he fumbled through a modified version of the little white sausages.
Eva frowned in disappointment while Mom looked more than a little skeptical.
“Is everything okay at school, Sullivan?”
“It’s great,” said Sully. “Everything is great.”
Mom still didn’t look convinced, but she let it ride.
“Okay, then,” she said. “So, tell us about your picture, then, Eva. What did you draw?”
As uncomfortable as this exchange was, it gave Sully an idea for his presentation, which was only a few days away.
Eleven days.
And thirteen hours.
Blake had used what Wippet called “allegory.” Or was it “metaphor?” Whatever. Blake had set up the different kinds of acne as various members of a Mob family. Maybe Sully could do the same, so he’d never actually have to talk directly about his topic at all.
He knew an allegory was telling a story that had a hidden meaning. He remembered learning that even the Narnia story wasn’t really about lions and witches and children, and all those other things that were half-man and half-animal. Well, it wasn’t only about that. Well, perfect. Hiding his subject was exactly what he intended to do.
With a sketchy outline chasing itself in circles in the back of his head, Sully began framing a comic strip about some pale white women warriors parting . . . no, better yet, stopping the Red Sea. That was in the Bible, right? And wasn’t there something about a baby floating down a river in a basket? He wasn’t at all sure one had anything to do with the other, but at least it was a start, and he had to weave in the whole baby reference somehow. As in, because of the flood, there would be no baby. He could tell a story about little crusaders in little boats stopping a flood. Wow, another biblical reference. Noah and the flood. And wasn’t the flood forty days and forty nights? He was pretty sure a menstruation cycle lasted something like that long. It was so perfect, he couldn’t believe someone hadn’t thought of it before.
Within half an hour, he’d invented the whole presentation, and not once did he have to use any embarrassing words.
CHAPTER 17
There was no good place to hide out at lunch. If pretending to be a blind pimple in front of his Sex Ed class was humiliating, sitting alone in the cafeteria was just as bad. In fact, sitting alone anywhere was a bad option.
As he stepped into the fall sunshine, surrounded by random groupings of fellow students, Sully spied Morsixx and Blossom deep in conversation by one of the school pillars. Panicking, he launched himself into the parking lot and crouched behind a blue van.
As luck would have it, no sooner had he unwrapped his sandwich than a burly twelfth grader approached, keys in hand, and headed unmistakeably for the driver’s door.
Sully dropped half his sandwich in his haste to clear out. He snuck around the back of the next car, looked both ways, and then slid in between a white sedan and a green station wagon, one row back. Feeling exposed between these two shorter vehicles, he slid to sitting and unwrapped the remaining half of his sandwich.
Without warning, the station wagon thrummed to life and pulled away, leaving Sully out in the open with his sandwich halfway to his mouth.
He scrunched his sandwich back in his bag and lit off for the second row at the end, where he wedged himself between a black pickup and a red Hummer. As he finally sank his teeth into the remaining half of a disappointingly dry tuna fish sandwich, Sully squealed when a hand landed on him from behind.
“I found you, Bella!”
“Winston! You scared me to death! Don’t sneak up on people like that.”
“I found you! I found you!” Winston laughed giddily. “My turn!”
As Winston jumped up and down, rubbing his palms together, a girl jumped into the black pickup seconds before Sully’s history teacher, Mr. Escrow, walked up to the Hummer.
“We’re playing hide and seek!” Winston said to Escrow. He raised his hand for a high five.
“I can think of safer places for games.” Escrow tagged Winston’s hand but gave Sully a stern look.
“But we’re not really playing hide and seek,” said Sully. “I was just—”
“Whatever you’re doing, I think it might be better to move the game to the field,” said Escrow. “Don’t you think?”
“Bye, Mister!” Winston patted the Hummer and waved as Escrow pulled away.
Completely visible now to the front of the school, Sully took the opportunity, when Winston’s back was turned, to flee around the back of a beat-up van a row back.
“Bella?” Winston yelled. “Bella, where are you? It’s my turn to hide!”
Sully poked his head out so Winston could see him and put his finger to his lips. Which were still sideways on his left cheek.
“I’m not playing hide and seek, Winston,” he whispered. “You should go.”
“You can’t fool me, Bella,” Winston said loudly and grinned. “I’ve been watching you! Start counting!”
“I’m not kidding, Winston.” Sully whispered louder this time. He gave Winston an angry look so he’d get the point, and as he did so, his nose back-flipped to the top of his head and his ears swiveled in opposite circles, landing on either side of his jaw. But backward. “Please go! And my name’s not Bella.”
“Is it Isabella?” Winston looked puzzled. “Elizabella? No . . . Elizabella’s not a name. Annabella?”
The van roared to life in front of him and eased out of the parking space to avoid Winston—which left Sully out in the open again. Aware that a few of the students in front of the school were catching on to the commotion, Sully dropped to all fours and crawled behind a yellow Prius one space over.
“Oh, oh, oh! I know . . . Bellatrix!” yelled Winston. “Hey, where’d you go, Bella?”
“Stop calling me that. It’s Sully,” whispered Sully. He poked his head out and put his finger to his lips again, as they toppled sideways, now upside down, into the middle of his face.
“It’s not silly, Bella.” Winston smiled again. “Bella’s a pretty name. Count to ten, Bella, and then find me!”
“I’m not counting to anything, Winston. Just leave me alone.”
“But it’s my turn.” Winston’s grin wobbled as he cocked his head to one side. “You have to take turns.”
“I’m not playing some stupid game,” Sully said.
As he ducked behind the Prius again, the eye on his forehead shifted center in Cyclops fashion, while his other slipped down to the middle of his chin.
“Oh,” said Winston. He scrunched his eyes closed and covered his ears. “Stupid’s not a nice word, Bella.”
“I just don’t want to play.” Sully shouted the words just as the yellow Prius shifted into drive and pulled away. Once again, Sully found himself on all fours in the middle of the parking lot.
Two cars in the first row and one in the second also took this opportunity to exit, so when Sully looked up, it was into the eyes of a dozen students who now had an unobstructed view of the proceedings.
“Hey, it’s the tampon kid!” someone yelled.
Winston uncovered his ears at the crescendo of laughter and broke into an ear-splitting grin himself.
“You look kind of silly down there, Bella,” he said. “And now I know why you don’t want to play.”
>
“What?” said Sully. “Why?”
Sully struggled to his feet. Across the parking lot, Morsixx and Blossom watched him from one side of the front steps. Tank, Ox, and Dodger eyed him from the opposite side.
“I’m sorry to say this, Bella,” Winston said. “But you’re really not very good at hiding.”
CHAPTER 18
Sully’s new nickname not only spread through the student body like a wave at a football game, it was also quickly spun off into a number of iterations. The Tampon Kid became, variously, Sanitary Man, Pad Man, guyPad, or, more simply, tk.
After a second reprimand by Escrow about playing in the parking lot kept him past the bell after school, Sully raced outside to begin his walk home. He spied Morsixx and Blossom at the bus stop just yards away. To avoid them, he slunk to the stoplights and ducked behind a kid named Ned, who played offensive tackle on the school’s football team.
Friday afternoon. Two and a half days before he’d have to deal with any of this, he thought. He took a deep breath and could feel the tension begin to release from his body, until the thought occurred to him that Ned should be at football practice. He shouldn’t be here.
“He-e-y, tk!” The wide receiver came up behind him. He grabbed Sully in a headlock and gave him a nuggy.
Neither the offensive tackle nor the wide receiver should be here.
Given the fact that Sully’s nose was still on the top of his head, the wide receiver’s rough knuckles incited a nosebleed which, in turn, roused a burst of laughter from the arriving quarterback.
“Yo, guyPad’s bleeding!” said Ned.
“Don’t you guys have practice after school?”
“Got any more supplies in your backpack?” said the wide receiver.
“Never known a niner with such a death wish,” said the quarterback.
The trio greeted another player and seemed to forget about Sully.
He tried again. “No practice today?” Sully could put up with some stupid jokes and harmless ribbing in return for the answer to his burning question.
Sully Messed Up Page 5
