Gertie's Leap to Greatness (18 page)

Gertie stared. She wasn't sure she'd heard right.

“Everybody messes up,” added Ms. Simms, as if she could read Gertie's mind. “Even teachers.”

“But teachers aren't supposed to mess up. It's your job
not
to mess up.”

“But we still mess up sometimes.” Ms. Simms smiled at Gertie like she wasn't embarrassed or ashamed at all. Like being wrong and messing up was about as much cause for outrage as a case of the hiccups.

That was a fascinating idea, but Gertie couldn't mess up. She had to find some way to show Rachel Collins that she was good enough for her.

“From now on,” said Ms. Simms, “I'll make sure that everyone gets a chance to go to the office. I'll have to think up some way to keep track of whose turn it is.” Her voice was thoughtful. She shook her head. “But I'll deal with that later.” She looked at Gertie.

Ms. Simms was waiting for her to say something else, and that was when Gertie realized that she was running out of things to be upset about and things to explain.

Gertie folded her arms and rested her chin on them. It was possible—maybe—that Ms. Simms did like all of her students equally.

“It's kind of peaceful, isn't it?” Ms. Simms said as she picked up her grading pen again. “Having the room to ourselves.”

And that she liked Gertie especially.

 

25

You Stupid Ham Hock!

All sorts of unfortunate accidents might take Mary Sue out of the play. For instance, she could get amnesia and forget all her lines. Or a giant zit might grow on her nose. Or she might eat so much junk food while she was training to be Evangelina that she got fat, so fat that she couldn't fit in her costume without popping all the seams. And then Gertie would be the only other one who knew the lines and everyone would beg her to be Evangelina and she would help them out because she was a nice person after all.

Aunt Rae was not as hopeful. “I think amnesia's not so common,” she said as she wiped Audrey's face with a rag. “Never heard of anybody actually getting it in real life.”

“But I'll be ready in case it happens. That's the point.”

Aunt Rae sighed. “You know, Gertie, she—she might not come. Something might come up.”

But Gertie knew she would come. She had seen it in Rachel Collins's eyes. She would be there for Gertie, which meant Gertie had to find a way to get back in the play.

All she needed was one enormous zit—green, to match Mary Sue's eyes.

She just had to keep thinking positive.

*   *   *

But Friday came, and Mary Sue was still zit-free.

The play was
that
night. If Gertie wasn't on the stage when Rachel Collins came, then it was all over. Gertie could never make up for that, no matter what she did.

On Friday afternoon, in the last minutes of the school day, Gertie was watching Mary Sue's hands gesture as she talked to Ella. No amnesia. No seams splitting on her shirt. Mary Sue was as perfect as ever. It was over. Unless … unless something happened to Mary Sue in the few hours left before the play. Unless someone stopped her …

“What are you going to do?”

Gertie jumped. Beside her, Jean was so focused on her copy of
Adventures in Reading, Grade 5
that Gertie almost didn't believe she had spoken.

Gertie replied in a low voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you've got a plan. You're going to lock Mary Sue in Stebbins's art closet, or you're going to trip her as she's going on stage. So you'll get to be in the play.” Jean glanced up from her book. “So what are you going to do to her?”

Gertie didn't answer.

“You could tell me, you know.” Jean frowned. “I wouldn't rat on you.”

She
could
lock Mary Sue in Stebbins's closet, and then no one would be able to find her, and the play would have to go on without her, which meant that Gertie would be Evangelina again.

“I know you wouldn't rat on me,” Gertie said to Jean, and she did know it.

The bell rang, and Gertie grabbed her bag and walked slowly, the crowd of yelling kids running past her. She could do it just before the play. Everyone would know that she was the best Evangelina all along. But …

Kidnapping Mary Sue would be like cheating, Gertie thought. And not like cheating at cards. If she cheated on her mission, she wouldn't be able to trust herself anymore.

But what if she didn't lock Mary Sue in a closet, and she still didn't get to be Evangelina? Then she would've done her very best, and nobody would know how hard she'd worked, and she would
fail
.

By the time she got on the bus she still hadn't decided what she was going to do.

“You'll let me know before you do anything dangerous, right?” Junior pulled her out of her reverie. “Right?”

“I'm not going to … Why does everyone think I'm going to do something awful?” Gertie demanded. She grabbed Junior's shoulders and pulled him close until his nose was an inch from hers and she had to cross her eyes to look at him. “Do I look like an awful person?”

Junior squinted at her and tilted his head.

*   *   *

The Mercury was stopped in front of the school, where people were scrambling out of cars and walking into the building. Gertie unbuckled her seat belt.

“I'll find us a parking spot and then be right in,” said Aunt Rae. “Gertie, don't you think … I want you to know that she might…”

“What?” Gertie said.

“Never mind.” Aunt Rae sighed.

Gertie looked from Audrey in the backseat to Aunt Rae in the front to the clock on the dash that told her she had ten minutes to do … something. She looked back at Aunt Rae. She'd put on purple lipstick, which was nice.

“You know what I just realized?” Aunt Rae asked suddenly.

Gertie shook her head.

“I've been mad at your mama ever since she left you,” Aunt Rae said. “So mad I could spit. I never did understand how a woman could leave her own baby because she didn't feel like raising it. And I still don't understand. But I realized it doesn't matter why. I should love that woman to pieces, because she left you with me. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

Gertie didn't know what to say.

“Give 'em hell, baby,” Aunt Rae said then.

And Gertie knew just how to respond to that. She nodded and flung open her door and launched herself from the car. She ran across the school yard, stretching her legs as long as she could, flying past parents and students who were walking toward the building. She rammed through a crowd of men waiting by the door with big cameras, which seemed strange, but she didn't have time to think about it.

*   *   *

Backstage, children ran around in their costumes. Ella, who was dressed as the Cucumber, was kicking a ball back and forth with someone who was wrapped in purple cellophane to look like a piece of candy. Mothers brandished glue guns and hair spray. Teachers stalked through the flurry of people, glaring at students who laughed and telling everyone to use their indoor voices
or else
.

Gertie pushed through the crowd until she found Stebbins working on June's floppy green hat, which was supposed to make her look like a Brussels sprout.

“Stebbins,” said Gertie. “Stebbins, I'm here. What can I do?”

Stebbins was pulling bobby pins out of her gray bun like a magician producing endless scarves from his sleeve. She stabbed them at June's head. The green hat slipped sideways.

“Is that sanitary?” June asked. “I don't think that's sanitary. My mother says—
Oww!
”

Stebbins jabbed one last pin in and gave the hat a tug. “That should hold it.”

June's eyes watered. Gertie stepped in front of Stebbins.

“Not now, Miss Foy,” Stebbins snapped.

“But—”

“Tonight is the culmination of weeks of work, the realization of my vision,” Stebbins said. “I suggest you stay out of my way.”

Most kids would've run for their lives. Gertie planted her feet wider. “Don't you need me to do anything?”

Stebbins
tsked
. Then she said, “Find Mary Sue Spivey and have her report to me.”

Gertie stood on her toes and turned, scanning the faces all around her. She didn't see any flowing yellow hair. No sparkling green eyes. No Mary Sue Spivey.

Gertie and Junior's bus driver walked into a glue-gun mother, but he didn't even notice. His lips were moving as he read a copy of the script. He was going to narrate the play. Gertie thought he was lucky to get such a big part, but he seemed nervous. He'd already eaten half a toothpick.

“I don't see her!” Gertie exclaimed, spinning back to face Stebbins. “Does that mean I get to go on?”

A bobby pin flashed dangerously close to Gertie's eye. “Find her and tell her I need to inspect her costume.”

Roy bumped into Gertie as she stalked away from Stebbins. He was bumping into a lot of people, because he was wearing a giant ham hock costume made of wire and red felt.

“Stebbins, I don't want to be the Ham anymore!” said Roy.

“Tough.”

“I can't look like a ham in front of Jessica Walsh.” His hands waved.

“At least you're not the Potato,” said Leo.

“Jessica Walsh?” Gertie stopped walking. “What about Jessica Walsh?”

“Where have you been?” asked Leo. “Jessica Walsh is
here
. In our auditorium.”

Gertie sprinted to the side of the stage, where a dozen kids had squashed Junior Jr. against the wall while they pushed to peek around the curtain. Gertie elbowed Ewan out of the way.

The auditorium was crowded, but in the front row she saw the lobbyist and a man beside her who had to be Mary Sue's father, and on the other side of
him
was the one and only Jessica Walsh. She was smiling, and Gertie could see her shiny white teeth all the way from behind the curtain. She looked just like her action figures, only bigger and softer. The crowd murmured and roared, and the name
Jessica Walsh
bobbed like a cork on the sea of sound.

“
I'm
in charge of the curtain,” Junior was saying. “You've got to back off. You're standing on the rope.”

No one was listening.

Gertie's eyes roamed around the auditorium, stopping on Aunt Rae and Audrey in the third row. Audrey was standing in her chair. Aunt Rae was squinting at her program. Beside Audrey were two empty seats they were saving. One for Gertie, just in case she didn't get to be Evangelina. One for Rachel Collins. Gertie had made Aunt Rae promise to save that seat. But it was empty. Her mother wasn't there yet.

She had
said
she was coming. Gertie stood in the huddle of her classmates and wondered. Hadn't she? Gertie thought she had. When she looked at Gertie, Gertie had been sure that she was promising she would come. But what had she said exactly?

Maybe she wasn't here because something awful had happened. For instance, maybe her mother had forgotten the time. Maybe Walter had gotten stuck in the bathtub, and she was having to chisel him out. Maybe Rachel Collins was on her way, but her car had been hijacked, and she was having to ninja the hijackers into submission.

“Jessica Walsh. She's the prettiest thing.” Roy sighed. A piece of wire from his costume scratched Gertie's face. “I wish all girls were just like her.”

“You're stupid,” said June.

“
You're
stupid,” said Roy. “That's what your problem is.”

“Oh yeah? Want to know what your problem is?” June demanded.

“No,” Roy said. “Not really.”

Under her green hat, June's face turned red. “You stupid ham hock!”

Roy put his face an inch from June's. “Big fat broccoli.”

“I'm
Brussels sprouts
!” June shoved him.

“Hey,” someone yelled.

“You're on my foot!” a girl hollered.

“My curtain!” said Junior.

Gertie wriggled out of the huddle, her brain buzzing. She couldn't think about Jessica Walsh, not when she needed to focus on the mission. If Mary Sue wasn't anywhere, that meant she would get to go on!

“Have you seen Mary Sue?” she asked one of the hair-spray mothers.

The woman shook her head.

“Mary Sue?” Gertie called.

She looked in one of the first-grade classrooms they were using as a dressing room. No Mary Sue. The lobbyist and Mary Sue's father were in the audience. So Mary Sue had to be here. Only she wasn't. It was impossible. It was a miracle. It was God, rewarding Gertie for not locking Mary Sue in the closet! She was going to be Evangelina!

This was the answer to everything.

Gertie popped her head in the bathroom. “Hello?” she called. She waited, counting,
One-Mississippi, two-Mississippi.
No answer. Mary Sue wasn't here either. Yes!