Fabulous Five 015 - Melanie's Identity Crisis (7 page)

"Come on up to my room," suggested Funny. She
grabbed Melanie's sleeping bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder as she led the
way up the stairs. Her bedroom was as cheerful as her disposition, with
wallpaper made of happy faces of every color in the rainbow against a white
background.

"Did you know I have a clown collection?" asked
Funny, leading Melanie to a large glass-fronted cabinet containing clown dolls
of every size and shape. "I've even thought about going to clown college
myself one of these days," she admitted.

Melanie admired the clowns, and for the next hour or so the
two girls got settled and chatted about school and about boys.

"I get so embarrassed around boys that sometimes I'm
even tongue-tied," said Funny. "I wish I could talk to them as easily
as you can."

"What are you talking about?" Melanie asked,
feeling a blush wash over her.

"It just seems to come so natural to you," Funny
offered, and shrugged. "I couldn't help noticing you talking to Scott at
the cemetery today, and then at Bumpers, Shane was hanging on every word you
said."

"Oh, that," she said, feeling a tingling sense of
pleasure. "Maybe I inherited it from one of my long-lost relatives,"
she joked.

"Maybe," Funny said, sounding doubtful. "Or
maybe you just like to
flirt
." At that, both girls broke up
laughing.

A little while later, they went down to the kitchen for a
snack. Mrs. Hawthorne hummed softly as she tore lettuce leaves for a salad. She
wore the same smile that had been on her face when Melanie arrived, and Melanie
couldn't help thinking that Mrs. Hawthorne smiled as much as Funny did. Or was
it the other way around? she wondered. Could Funny have gotten her smile from
being around her adopted mother all the time? Mrs. Clark had said that everyone
inherited traits from genes, but maybe Funny learned to be so smiley from being
around Mrs. Hawthorne.

"This is usually Funny's job," Mrs. Hawthorne was
saying. "But because she has company, I've given her the night off."

"Thanks, Mom," said Funny, giving her mother a
look of genuine affection. Then laughing, she said, "I'll make
two
salads tomorrow night."

Melanie squirmed uncomfortably, trying to imagine her own
mother taking over some of her chores just because she had company, but she
couldn't. Of course, her company usually consisted of The Fabulous Five, whom
her mother had known for years. But still, she thought, even if I brought home
someone new, it probably wouldn't make any difference. I'm not a chosen child,
like Funny. I'm an
accident.

Later, when they went down to dinner, Funny ran squealing to
her father, who had come home from work while they were upstairs, and he
planted a kiss squarely on her forehead. "Hi, princess," he said,
beaming down at her. "How was your day?"

Melanie thought about her own father the night before. Even
though she had been home from school sick all day, he hadn't greeted her this
way. All he had done was gripe about her table manners.

"Great," said Funny. "Today was our Family
Living class's field trip to the cemetery to make gravestone rubbings."
She went on telling her parents about the trip, and Melanie watched closely as
they listened to every word she said, just the way her own parents had listened
to Jeffy's story about the Godzilla movie the night before. But did my parents listen
to me when I tried to tell them something? she thought with a heavy heart. Of
course not.

The rest of the evening went the same. Whenever she and
Funny were around Funny's parents, they treated her as if she were some kind of
royalty, and Melanie felt herself growing quieter and quieter.

"Is something wrong?" Funny asked later when they
were snuggled in their sleeping bags and the lights were turned out.

Melanie didn't say anything for a moment. How could she tell
Funny what was really bothering her? She couldn't admit that the reason she had
wanted to spend the night was to spy on Funny and her family.

"There's nothing wrong," Melanie said at last. "It's
just that I can't help noticing how cheerful your parents are."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Funny giggled softly
in the dark. "My mom, especially. She can always find something to smile
about."

"Not
my
mom," grumbled Melanie. "Especially
where I'm concerned. All she ever does is yell at me."

Now it was Funny's turn to be silent, and Melanie wished she
could say more, but she could never tell Funny the truth about what was
bothering her.

A little while later, tiny, gurgly snores told Melanie that
Funny was asleep, but it was much later before she was able to close her own
eyes.

Funny and her mother dropped Melanie off at home on their
way to the library the next morning. Breakfast with the Hawthornes had been as
cheerful as dinnertime had been the night before. Melanie moped around the
house all morning, thinking about how Funny's parents treated their
chosen
child and wondering why she had spied on the Hawthornes in the first place.
Because now that she had the proof she had been looking for, she felt worse
instead of better.

She wished that she could talk to someone about her problem.
She had tried to talk to The Fabulous Five at school the day before, but they
had thought she was jumping to conclusions. "But they don't know how it
feels," she whispered to herself.

She sat down at her desk and began to make a list of all the
ways she could think of that her parents had proven over the last few days that
they didn't love her. One, her mother hadn't been at home when she got sick and
needed to come home. Of course, she had come straight to school and insisted
that Melanie go home and then to bed once she had found out. But what else
could a mother do?

"Melanie! Will you come down here right now and put
your sleeping bag away!"

Melanie stiffened at her mother's angry voice. Big deal, she
thought. Can't she ever give me a chance to do things on my own? I was going to
put it away in a few minutes.

Putting down her ballpoint pen, she scuffed down to the
foyer and scooped up the sleeping bag. Then she hauled it down to the basement
and stuffed it into the closet.

The puppies were asleep in a furry pile. Rainbow was lying
outside her box this time, and Melanie couldn't resist stopping to pet her.

"I'll bet you don't yell at your puppies the way my mom
yells at me," she said, and chuckled.

Rainbow wagged her tail and gazed at Melanie lovingly.
Giving her dog one last pat, she went back up to her room to work on her list
again.

Two, her parents paid a lot more attention to Jeffy than
they did to her. Of course she was older and needed some independence
sometimes, but still . . .

"Melanie! You left the basement door open! Get down
here this instant!"

Exasperated, Melanie sighed loudly. "Why doesn't she
just close it herself?" she muttered out loud.

When she got to the kitchen, her mother was standing in the
middle of the floor with her hands on her hips and an angry expression on her
face.

Melanie opened her mouth to protest, but something caught
her attention on the floor. Puddles. She gulped hard and began to count them.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Eight little puddles scattered
all around the kitchen floor.

"Thanks to you," her mother went on, "the
puppies got upstairs. I want this all cleaned up immediately."

Melanie nodded and went to get a bucket and a mop. There was
no way she could argue this time. She was just finishing mopping the floor when
the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it! I'll get it!" Jeffy screamed.

The next thing Melanie heard was Gran Pennington's cheerful
voice. "Is Melanie here? I've brought something that I'm sure she'll want
to see."

"In here, Gran," Melanie called. She put the mop
in the bucket and turned to greet her grandmother.

"Oh, there you are," said Gran. She set her purse on
the counter and began rummaging through it. "I was thinking about your
interest in your great-great-grandmother Cordia, and I remembered a newspaper
clipping about her that I know you'll be interested in. I don't know why I
forgot about it before, but luckily I found it in the trunk."

Beaming, she spread the old, yellowed newspaper clipping in
front of Melanie. "My, my. You two are so much alike."

Melanie sucked in her breath. The headline read, "Courageous
Girl Saves Doomed Dog From Certain Death." And there in the picture was
Cordia Mae Lee, smiling and cuddling a brown and white dog.

"Read the story out loud," urged Gran Pennington.

Melanie cleared her throat and began, "'Thirteen-year-old
Cordia Mae Lee, who lives on Brighton Street, was passing Thistle Creek
yesterday when she heard a dog yelping. Upon investigation, she discovered that
the dog had been thrown into the creek with a rock tied to its feet.' Oh, my
gosh!" Melanie shrieked, and then read on quickly, "'Cordia jumped in
and pulled the half-drowned dog out of the swift current, saving its life.'"
Melanie glanced quickly from her grandmother to her mother and back to her
grandmother again. "Why would anyone do something like that to a poor
little dog?"

"That's one of the ways people used to get rid of
animals they didn't want in the days before there were animal shelters,"
her grandmother said gently. "But the important thing is that Cordia saved
the little dog just as you and your friends saved all those animals at
Christmastime. And she took it home to her family just as you brought Rainbow
home. I guess you come by your love of animals naturally, don't you?"

Melanie swallowed back tears and nodded. It was too perfect
to be true. She
had
really inherited a lot of things from this relative
who had lived so long ago. If only she were alive today, she thought, we could
be such good friends.

Gran Pennington let Melanie keep the clipping. And even
though she read it over dozens of times over the rest of the weekend and smiled
at the thoughts of all the things she had in common with her
great-great-grandmother, she couldn't forget the problem that still nagged at
her. She felt as unwanted as the two mutts, Rainbow and Cordia's little dog,
had been.

When she got to school Monday morning, Melanie didn't feel
like joining her friends at their usual spot by the fence, so she ambled over
to a cluster of birch trees and stood by herself. She knew her rotten mood was
back, and she didn't want to inflict it on The Fabulous Five.

"What's the matter, Mel?" Funny Hawthorne had
walked up behind her and was looking at her with concern. "I can tell
something is bothering you. It has been for days. I even noticed it when you
spent the night with me Friday. Would you like to talk about it?"

Melanie felt tears jet into her eves. "No," she
whispered, looking away. "Thanks, though."

Funny didn't say anything for a moment as she drew circles
into the dirt with the toe of her shoe. Finally she looked at Melanie and said,
"I know how you feel. I didn't want to talk about my genealogy project
last week either."

Melanie looked at her sharply. What does that have to do
with anything? she wanted to ask.

"But you wouldn't leave me alone." A smile broke
over Funny's face, and she went on, "You bugged me until I told you what
the problem was. Remember?"

Melanie felt her face color as she nodded. Still, this was
different. How could she talk about her own problem without letting Funny know
that she was part of it?

"Soooo," Funny said, ignoring Melanie's silence, "I'm
going to be just as good a friend to you as you were to me. I'm going to bug
you. Come on, Melanie. You'll feel better when you talk about it, and maybe I
can help."

Melanie looked at Funny as a tiny feeling of hope rose in
her. She really did need a friend. Maybe she could talk to Funny about part of
her problem without telling her the whole story. "Remember how you thought
you were a nobody in the Hawthorne family until you found out that you were
chosen?"

"Sure," said Funny. "So what?"

Melanie took a deep breath and let it out in one big puff. "Well,
it's just the opposite for me. I thought my parents really loved me until I
read a letter my mom wrote to my grandmother saying that she and my dad never
wanted me to be born."

Funny's eyes widened in disbelief as Melanie went on with
her story, being careful to leave out the parts about her jealousy over Funny's
being a chosen child. "You'd be in a bad mood, too, if you found out that
you wrecked your mother's career and you were nothing but a burden to your
family," Melanie blurted.

Funny looked down at the ground for a moment as if she were
examining the circles in the dirt she had made with her toe a few moments before.
Then she reached out a hand and touched Melanie softly on the arm. "I know
all that seems awful right now, but I think you're wrong about not feeling
wanted. Sure, your mom and dad yell at you sometimes, but everybody's mom and
dad does that. Even mine," she said brightly. "They were just on good
behavior because I had company when you were there."

"But I saw the proof," Melanie insisted, "right
there in black and white in the letter. My mom said I was an accident!"

A determined look appeared on Funny's face. "Okay. Have
it your way. Your parents hate you because you wrecked their life. But promise
me you'll do exactly the same thing you made me do."

Melanie blinked, trying to remember their conversation a few
days ago. "What was that?"

"Talk to your parents."

"What!" shrieked Melanie. "Are you kidding? I
could never do a thing like that."

Funny smiled slyly. "That's what I said. Remember? And
you convinced me that it was the only way to settle my problem and feel better
about myself. If I could do it,
you can.
"

"I don't know," said Melanie, shaking her head.

"You've got to promise," insisted Funny. "I'll
throw my body across the door so that you can't get into school until you
promise. I'll carry a sign that says 'Melanie Edwards is a chicken.' I'll drag
you home and talk to your parents myself, if I have to."

Funny was saying all that in a teasing voice, but there was
something about the look in her eyes that told Melanie she wasn't really
kidding.

Melanie hesitated. Just because it had been the right thing
for Funny didn't mean it would work for her. Still, something deep inside her
was crying to be reassured that her parents loved her. "Okay," she
murmured. "I guess I could try."

But Funny wouldn't let her off the hook yet. "Raise
your right hand and swear," she ordered. "Swear you'll do it tonight."

Melanie couldn't help smiling at her determined friend as
she raised her hand and swore to talk to her parents as soon as she got home
from school. She was beginning to feel a little bit better already.

But when the bell sounded and she headed for her locker, her
old doubts returned. Was it really the right thing to do or would it only make
things worse?