Ledge Walkers (7 page)

"Hey!” Laura spat. “We have rules about such things!"

"And besides,” Holly added, “I wouldnever throw my panties out the window! Hang them on the rearview mirror, maybe, but never, ever throw them."

That helped. Thanks, Holly.

Now, granted, panties were possibly on the top-ten list of things lesbians liked to pick up, but I didn't think that meant just stray, personless ones—at least I hoped not. “Leave them for the Chamber of Commerce, too."

"What is with all the booze containers?” Kris yelled. “Gin, vodka, beer bottles, beer cans, tequila ... I mean, come on! If you're out on the highway with booze containers, chances are you're drinking and driving. Open intoxicants at bare minimum. This is just creepy! Laura, can't your guys do something about this?"

"We do the best we can. There will always be idiots, and I will always have a job."

Just then another horn blared, and catcalls came madly from open windows.

Cranky Ginny, who, as I said, rarely resorted to Neanderthal methods, cocked her middle finger and aimed it at the car as it sped past. She seemed rather proud of herself.

Yet again, I wondered what the hell I had gotten us into. I kept telling myself that I meant well, and that the fine DWD sign we were promised was worth it, if only to annoy a bigoted state.

As if in slow motion, I watched Susan grab Maggie's hand and started running far ahead of us. She ran while attempting to look back at us, pointing, madly pointing, then periodically using the same hand to secure her wide brimmed hat.

Ginny looked, turned her head, and quietly said, “Dead hawk.” This action repeated itself five more times until the words reached me at the end of the line.

"Three giant steps for womankind, ladies,” I ordered, and we stretched to hold hands and bags between us.

“One,” and we jumped. “Two,” and we jumped. “Three,” and we jumped, and then we ran a few more steps for good measure.

Susan mimed her thanks when we met up with them. Order returned, and we ignored Maggie's questions. What you don't know can't hurt you. Unless of course, it was cancer or a booger hanging out your nose during a job interview.

As if on cue in our little fiasco, cadaver dog four went off, “Holy shit, another pair of panties! A thong this time!"

"Well, at least we now know it was two women. For some stupid reason that somehow makes it seem better.Should it?"

"Yeah, but who was driving the frickin’ car while these undies were tossed?"

"Oh sweet Jesus, let's stop even thinking about it!"

Eventually, we came to the marker that indicated our half-assed job was complete:Sponsored by DWD. As disgusting as the past hour and a half had been, that sign did indeed seemed to make up for it all. We were fine, upstanding citizens, doing our Al Gore-y part to save the earth. And, we were on the map!

Like self-absorbed idiots, we congregated around the pole in the ground, waving to cars and pointing to the sign.

We were violating one of the blessed safety rules: Do not interact with traffic. Rule breaking or not, it felt good.

Most people were quite enthusiastic and just as unaware of what DWD meant. Then, unfortunately, one of those catcalling pickups approached. Like Laura said: There will always be idiots.

Suddenly, the U sound in W ceased to exist. Holly pulled up her shirt as high as it would go and screamed, “D

Double D. Read ‘em and weep, you jerks!"

How the hell flashing oneself could possibly be seen as an affront to a carload of lechers—that was far beyond me, but it was awfully damn funny. I even knew it shouldn't have been, but it was. Fine, upstanding citizens?Oh yeah.

As the mandatory hysterics began, we tied our trash bags, removed and threw our gloves on top, and then placed the bags the specified distance from the shoulder. We made our way back to the short bus, which now fit us like a glove we had just trashed. We stayed to the shoulder, avoiding panties, condoms, and other dead things.

We entered the bus, and I hoped to hell that Phyllis hadn't seen anything.

Then I noticed all the dirty looks being shot my way. Not a one took aim at Claudia. Like Holly, she always appeared the innocent one, and like Laura, I always appeared the culprit. I knew the task would not be well received; Claudia had warned me a hundred times. God forbid, you dared teeter on the edge of what was comfortable! I looked over the ledge now and envisioned my reputational suicide.

"Do-gooder!” Laura said, and it became a mantra amongst them.

"What? We did do something good!” I defended, although I knew that I would return to our section tomorrow to take care of what we as a group were too squeamish to accomplish.

The mantra did not stop, and I finally admitted, “Okay, it was disgusting! I'm sorry. Do-gooder means I will do gooder next time."

"Gee, Sutter!” Laura said. “We're just giving you a hard time."

Oh. I knew that.

Halfway back to our house, Susan made the comment that she felt “yucky” and asked if we could all take showers. Claudia assured her that we could, but she warned that it would take a while for all nine of us and that the last several might be awfully cold. That was when your yoga instructor cautiously mentioned that she could get us in and out of the Y undetected. I thought that was a brilliant idea, assuming, of course, that we took proper precautions. I asked Phyllis if she could still fit that into her schedule, and she said it was not a problem.

Ten minutes later, we parked outside the Y. Alison snuck Ginny, Claudia, Holly, and Susan in first. The rest of us waited. Laura and I desperately enjoyed a cigarette while Kris and Maggie ran across the street to fetch coffees and teas. Without incident, the better smelling ones returned, stole the remains of our beverages, and the rank ones raced in with Alison. A while later, we all smelled good, and the short bus wended its way toward our home.

When the bus pulled into the driveway, I was relieved to see a familiar car parked there. Our plan unfolded properly. Trust remained in tact.

We congregated by the front door, with Claudia blocking the way.

She clapped a mere three times. “I know we're all tired. Clean, but tired,” she said. “All strong, healthy women need some down time, so this is it. We're heading back to the cafeteria, but this time we've fired the women with the aversions to children and recognizable food."

A round of conservative applause barely erupted.

Claudia continued, “Our chef for the evening will upscale both the atmosphere and the cuisine."

We entered to savor aromas I had never smelled in any cafeteria, let alone my own home. In the kitchen stood a very chef-looking man, complete with the pleated white hat and a matching jacket that sported black buttons and cording.I could get used to this!

"Girls, this is Sam,” I said.

Everyone greeted him, and he removed his hat and bowed his shaven head.

"He's about to graduate from the culinary school,” I added. “He'll get graded on this as an extra credit project, so we'll be taking pictures of his dishes, and he'll have comment sheets for us to fill out later.” I turned to him and said, “We're a little bit early, but don't mind us. Just do your thing. If you need anything, please just ask."

"Everything is under control, Kate. You ladies just sit back and relax."

Oh yeah, I could get used to this.

"All right,” I began again, “since this is a school cafeteria, we'll have to see about seating arrangement."

As agreed, Sam had set the room up so that there were three distinct dining areas.

"The table in the living room here is reserved for nerds, misfits, and troublemakers. If that was—or is—you, please raise your hand."

Both Alison and Maggie started to raise their hands, but when they found no other company in the crowd, they put them back down.

"Too late. I saw you guys!” I said. “Grab a place setting from the counter and have a seat over here.” Then I sheepishly added, “And would you bring a place setting for me, too?"

"Ah, a troublemaker!” Holly shouted. “I knew it."

"I never doubted it!” Ginny declared.

"I was not a troublemaker! You're both wrong."

I was about to desperately change the subject by asking my tablemates in which category they belonged, but Holly had the audacity to continue, “A misfit? Oh, Kate!” There was sympathy in her tone, and I thought it best just to let her think that, but the hotness in my face instantaneously turned me into a neon nerd.

"Oh my God! You were a nerd! Holy shit! A nerd!A nerd!"

"Just shut up, Laura! Just shut up!” I cleared my throat very loudly and glared at her. Desperate to move on, I announced, “The island is reserved for jocks and brainiacs. Hands please."

Just as in school, the higher up the food chain you were, the easier things got. Hands shot up with little shame.

Laura, Kris, and Susan identified themselves. It was easy to peg Kris and Susan as the brainiacs, but Laura? No way.

"You were a jock!” I yelled at her. “Football? Wrestling? Bench pressing? What butchy things did you do, Laura?"

"Actually, I beat up nerds.” She lunged at me and had me in a headlock in no time flat. “I feel a swirly coming on!"

Goddamn, I hated the food chain, but at least this time I had cause to laugh.

She let go of me. As I stood, she smoothed my shirt. “I played lacrosse and volleyball. Problem with that?” she challenged.

"No problem at all. Here, you want my lunch money?"

The three of them took place settings and seats at the island. That left three of them standing there. Claudia, Holly, and Ginny seemed awfully proud of themselves, sitting all high and mighty on the top link of the chain.

"The ever-popular preps?” I conceded, and they all nodded enthusiastically. Yep, it was very easy way the hell up there.

"Well, I wasn't a cheerleader, if that's what you're thinking. I just knew a lot of people,” Holly clarified, somehow thinking she charitably extinguished a burning question we all had.

She didn't seem like the cheerleader type to me. I could easily see her getting lost in the middle of a routine, oozing something like, “Oh my God, these pompoms are so beautiful."

"Wasanyone a cheerleader?” Alison, the ever-questioning one, asked.

I suddenly felt Claudia's eye rivet themselves to me in a way that caused excruciating pain. She stared at me, pulling her lips into one of those mishmashes of dread and apology. I shook my head, knowing full well that again she clutched my goat.

"A nerd and a cheerleader!” Alison said, laughing. “How did you manage that, Kate?"

"No. I didn't manage anything. She's bullshitting."

"Honey?” Claudia beseeched in one of those sickeningly sweet tones. She neared me and grabbed my arm.

“Honey?"

"Oh please, don't say it, Claudia.” I shook my head until it bordered on a seizure.

"Honey?"

"No, Claudia. Donot stand there and tell me that for nine years you just failed to mention that you were a cheerleader."

"For God's sake, you make it seem like I never told you I had genital warts or something."

Everybody seemed to think that was funny, but somewhere inside I failed to fathom the dissimilarity. When you were clinging for dear life to that bottom link, cheerleaderswere a social disease. With a look, they could make you need to hurl. With a dismissive glance, they could inflict the sensation of all blood leaving your body. With a laugh, they could incapacitate. They were the disease, and the poor ones on the bottom link manifested the symptoms.No. No way.

"Oh, get a grip, Kate,” Ginny said. “I was a gosh darn cheerleader, too. Big deal!"

"I don't sleep with you!"

"No, I'll give you that,” she said, and I could hear her scrapping her mind for something better.

"What? Were you traumatized by a cheerleader when you were little? I've heard stories about clowns, never cheerleaders, though,” Alison said very matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, all the boogie men under Kate's bed wore short pleated skirts and shook pompoms at her in the dead of night.” Laura laughed.

Did they?

Somewhere deep, deep inside myself, I laughed right along with Laura. The sound of it was very distant, like a memory. This was all so absurd. I knew that, but I could not seem to move without teetering.

"Come on, everybody,” Claudia finally said. “Let's not hold up what Sam has planned. Take your seats."

She left me standing there, trying to wrap my head around my new reality—as stupid as that need probably seemed to everyone else. She followed Holly and Ginny to the kitchen counter to grab a place setting. I watched her very intently. Then I heard her say, “Sorry, you guys. I'm goingslumming. You're on your own."

Then she returned to my side and to the table of nerds, misfits, and troublemakers.

We all sat down very mechanically while Sam delivered wine goblets and a pitcher of ice water to each table.

Claudia poured a glass, handed it to me, and asked, “Are you okay, hon?"

"This is so stupid,” I replied. “I know it's stupid. I feel stupid. But I can't seem to move.” I took a much-needed gulp of water, thinking maybe it best to throw it in my face to snap me out of ... whatever this was.

"I'm sorry. I should have said something a long time ago."

I did not know what to say to her, so I opted to shut my mouth.

"Iam sorry. I had no idea it was such a big deal to you."

Now to that I had to respond. “Yes, you did. I saw it in your face. You were afraid of me finding out.” I could tell in an instant that she knew I was right.

"I know how to make you feel better, Kate,” Alison offered. “You just need a good laugh."

With that she left the table and came back seconds later with Lover Doll. She grabbed a chair, put the gaping gasbag into it, and then shoved the chair until she remained upright. “Troublemaker, if ever I saw one,” she said.

I smiled at Alison for her effort, but I did not find it funny. In fact, it made me feel worse.

Sam started delivering our first course. As he approached our table, he asked, tossing his head at Lover Doll,

“Will she be needing a plate or will she be sharing with you?” He winked and smiled at me.