How High the Moon (38 page)

We said our good-byes and were halfway home before it dawned on me that I’d forgotten to tell Mrs. Carlton that I had feminine influence again.

I don’t know
exactly what happened, but after we handed out those tickets, it was like everything turned as upside down as a pineapple cake. With the sad, mixed-up feelings I was having over knowing I had to pick who I wanted to live with getting flipped to the bottom, and the fun, good-as-candy gala stuff sitting on top.

That night at our dress rehearsal, Brenda was happier than I’d seen her in weeks. Laughing at this and that, chitchatting with Tina and the rest of her friends. And popping my cheek with a kiss every time she passed by.

We were in our dressing room (really the big warehouse room, because the real dressing rooms were going to be used by the big acts), changing into our fancy
White Christmas
dresses, when Mrs. Bloom came in to ask Brenda, “Who’s doing the stage makeup? Where are they?”

We were going to wear makeup on stage? Hot dog!

Brenda blinked at her ma, like she didn’t know, either, so I piped up, “Two ladies who do the best makeup in town, that’s who! But they couldn’t be here tonight. Which is just as well, Mrs. Bloom, because I happen to know firsthand that when you put makeup on a kid, they get it all over their clothes.” She thought about it a second, then said, “I suppose,” and hurried off to harp at somebody else about something else.

“Don’t worry about the makeup ladies,” I told Brenda. “I wasn’t being a fibber-face when I told your Ma that. I didn’t ask them yet, because I didn’t know I should. But they’ll do it. You can bet on it.”

Brenda helped me dress like a Big Sister was supposed to. We stood in front of the big mirror that covered most of one wall, me in my undershirt and big mesh slip, socks bunched around my ankles, and arms up and ready. Brenda was already dressed, and looking prettier than Rosemary Clooney and Vera-Ellen put together. She tossed my blue dress above my head and it floated down over me like a parachute, then tied my bow in the back and fixed my barrette that had been knocked cockamamie.

Boy, that tulle and lace was scratchy as dry elbows, but still, our dresses sure were pretty. “Where’s my fan?” I asked Brenda, and she pointed to where Mrs. Gaylor was digging in a big box while Big and Little Sisters waited in a line every bit as crooked as a Mrs. Fry hem.

The second I had my fan, I ran back to the mirror. Wow, I sure did look professional when I waved my fan, little as it was. I held it up in front of my face, then lowered it. Stage-smiling as I broke into the first verse of “Sisters,” my head and feet moving just how they were supposed to on each note, which was a good thing since I
was
going to be dead-center.

“You’re so dumb, Teaspoon,” Rebecca said, giving me a shove. “And your shoes are scuffed. You’d better clean them up before the program.”

“It’s a gala, stupid. Not a
program
.”

But just like Mrs. Bloom’s harping didn’t knock Brenda’s good mood out of her, I didn’t let Rebecca shove me out of mine, either. This was another of my pre-celebrations and I was having the time of my life, like Teddy said I should—scuffed patent leathers and a decision that made my whole body hurt just to think about it or not.

For the next two hours, we sat in the front row and watched the show until it was our time to perform. Boy, that Beulah and Morris
Farthing really
did
look like Fred and Ginger as they twirled and fancy-stepped to “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White,” played by the Mill Town City Orchestra. Even Mrs. Derby wasn’t all that bad, though I still thought she should sing “There’s No Business Like Show Business” with that Ethelly voice of hers.

I could hardly believe my eyes when it was our turn and almost every Little Sister got their right and left straight. Even Jay was happy with us, calling out “Brilliant!” and “Bravo!”

I was so excited that I chattered all the way through taking off my gala dress, and I didn’t stop once all the way home. Brenda didn’t say much—not that I gave her a chance—she just drove, wearing the kind of smile you usually wear when you’re doing nothing but sitting in the sun, listening to some good tunes.

“You’re feeling better, aren’t you, Brenda?” I asked. “Is that because it’s almost over?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice slow and dreamy as she glanced out the front window and up, like I’d just asked her if she could see Jesus in the clouds.

When I got inside, Teddy and Charlie were sitting at the table, a chocolate cake in the middle and four glasses bubbling with just-poured Orange Crush beside four plates. Then Ma came out of the bathroom, and man, if
that
wasn’t a shocker! “Ma,” I said. “I thought you’d be at The Dusty Rose by now, so I didn’t even look for your car when I got home. I thought that was the reason you didn’t want to go to dress rehearsal with me tonight.”

“Teaspoon,” Ma said, with a not-mad scolding voice. “I told you I didn’t want to go because I want to wait and see the real thing.”

Teddy pulled out a chair for me, like I was some kind of princess or something. Then Ma held up her glass and told the rest of us to do the same. They gave me three
hip, hip, hoorays
.

While we waited for Charlie to have seconds, Teddy disappeared into his room and came back with the bag I’d seen him with the
day before. “What do you have there, Teddy?” I asked, grabbing the top of the bag and giving it a tug so I could see what was inside. “Clothes?”

“Just a little something so we all look respectable on your big night,” Teddy said.

He pulled out a fine new shirt for Charlie. A dark blue one that fit around his tubby middle, but wasn’t long like a dress. He’d bought a pair of light brown trousers, too, but we didn’t get to see those right then because Mrs. Fry was busy hemming them—which meant that Charlie might be wearing light brown pedal pushers to the gala. Charlie sure was proud when Ma held the shirt up against him and said that he looked as handsome as Humphrey Bogart in navy.

“What did you get me?” I asked, clapping my hands.

“Well,” Teddy said. “You have your outfit, so, well, here…” Teddy pulled out a pair of white anklets trimmed with blue lace.

“Holy cow, Teddy. How’d you know about lacy anklets?”

“Well, I had a little help picking them out,” Teddy said, and I turned to Ma and smiled.

I thought that was it, but no. Teddy took out a little black box with
FILLERS FINE JEWELRY
stamped in gold letters on the lid, and handed it to me.

I was still staring at the box when Ma squealed, “Hurry, open it up so we can see!”

I pulled off the lid, and inside there was a short silver chain curled up on a bed of cotton. Ma plucked it from the box. “Oh, it’s a charm bracelet,” she said. “They’re all the rage, Teaspoon.” She held it up to show me the little silver star dangling from it.

“A star for my little star,” Teddy said. “Look on the back.”

I flipped the star around while Ma held it, and there it was—September 3, 1955—the date of my debut! “Every big event you have, we’ll get you another charm to mark the special day,” Teddy said, while I laughed and blinked tears and Ma told me to keep my arm still so she could clasp it to my wrist.

I flipped my wrist this way and that, watching the little star flip and glow. Then I wrapped my arm around Teddy’s neck, holding my arm out so I could still see my bracelet, and gave him a one-armed squeeze.

Teddy even had something in that bag for Ma to wear to the gala. A nice pair of clip-on earrings that she liked so much she gave him a kiss. I glanced at Charlie when she did this, and I could tell that he was thinking the same thing as me. Only somebody in love would buy fancy clip-on earrings. And only someone in love would kiss them for doing it, too. I decided, right then and there, that maybe that big spat they had the other night was just that. Nothing but a spat. After all, Teddy and me had those all the time, but we still loved each other. I probably didn’t even have to decide now!

After that kiss, Teddy disappeared into his bedroom and came back with a man’s dark blue suit hanging in a plastic bag. “And this is so I can go to your gala in style, too.” he said. “I was due for a new one after fifteen years, don’t you think?”

“Wow, Teddy!” I said. “What did you do, rob Mrs. Bloom’s safe?” Everybody laughed. Well, except Charlie, who apparently didn’t know I was kidding.

When our little party was over, Charlie headed home with a piece of cake for Mrs. Fry and an extra for him for later. Ma headed to The Dusty Rose, but not before telling Teddy thank you all over again, and Teddy looking her right in the face with frosting-soft eyes and saying, “Thank
you
,” though I don’t know why since Ma didn’t get him anything.

“Teddy, can you help me get my bracelet off now?” I asked. “I want it saved pristine for the gala.” It took Teddy a while to undo the little clasp, but when he did, I put the bracelet back in its box and put the box on my dresser right next to Ma’s movie poster.

Both Taxi Stand Ladies were on the corner when I pulled up on my scooter, and they laughed like crazy when I asked them to be our
makeup ladies. “You can’t be serious, Teaspoon,” The Kenosha Kid said.

“Course I am. Brenda said that stage makeup has to be thick and bright so we won’t look like ghosts on the stage. There isn’t a lady in town who knows how to put on makeup like that, except you two. I swear, even on the sunniest days, I can be down a whole block and see your makeup like I was standing right beside you.”

“Did you… um… tell Mrs. Bloom that you were asking us?” The Kenosha Kid asked.

“No. She didn’t ask.”

They exchanged giggles. “Is Miller’s kid a Little Sister?” Walking Doll asked.

“No. Even though she’s afflicted enough to be. But she’s coming to the show with her family. She said it was only to see Les Paul and Mary Ford, but I think she wishes she were a little sister.”

“We’ll do it,” Walking Doll said, and The Kenosha Kid gave her one of those suspicioned looks.

When I got home, Teddy had the house all spiffy-clean and he was in the bathroom washing out a few things. I poured myself a glass of water, clear up to the rim because I was that thirsty, and a plop of it landed on the toe of my shoe. Thinking that water might ruin the shine, I wiped it off with the dishrag and sighed, because under that wet there wasn’t nothing but black scuffs. “Hey Teddy? You know how to get black marks off patent leather?”

“No, Teaspoon. Maybe your ma does. You can ask her in the morning.”

Didn’t that just figure. Give Teddy a cow-bloody pair of pants and he knew how to get them clean enough to wear to church. But give him a pair of scuffed patent leathers, and he was worthless. I set down my butter knife and went to my room to dig through the empty coffee can I kept my old school crayons in.

I suppose I should have figured that a white crayon couldn’t get
out black scuffs, considering that the white crayon itself was full of them, but I had to try something. It didn’t work. So I went back into the kitchen to get an S.O.S pad from under the sink. I figured if it could clean brown sausage crud out from a pan, then for sure it could get a few black marks off patent leather.

I scrubbed until my shoes were bubbled with blue soap, but when I wiped them with the corner of yesterday’s dirty shirt, I found that it hadn’t taken off the scuffs at all. It sure had taken off the shine, though.

Near tears, I went into Teddy’s room where Ma’s stuff was strung all over, messy as my room, and started digging around, hoping I’d find something in a tube or a can that would take scuffs off shoes as easy as Jergens took scales off elbows.

I didn’t find any cleaner, but I did find a bottle of silver nail polish in Ma’s little makeup case.
Perfect!

The nail polish didn’t hide the black scuffs, but it did give them a nice glow after I dabbed it on thick enough. I paired them up on the little table by my window where the sun was shining so I could see what they’d look like under stage lights. So maybe my shoes would have a few little dents and dings on the toes, but it wasn’t like anybody even five rows back, much less in the nosebleed seats, would see that. What they’d see would be my shoes sparkling silver like a moon.

When gala eve came
, I was spinning like a top, and made Charlie play “Sisters” so many times that he got grumpy. “You said it was the last time, three times ago,” he whined.

“So what!” I screamed. “Do it one more time. Do it, Charlie!”

Teddy came into the living room then and thanked Charlie for his patience, and told him to go home and get a good night’s rest. Then Teddy took me aside and sat me down on the couch—even if I wanted to sit on the Starlight seats instead—and he said we were just going to sit quietly for a while.

“You’re just overexcited, Teaspoon,” he said. “It happens.”

“But Teddy,” I said. “I just wanted to do the song one more time so I know I won’t forget the words or the steps. I might, you know, and I’m dead-center.”

“You won’t forget,” Teddy said. “You know that song and those steps like the back of your hand. Why, I think you could even do them in your sleep.” He rubbed the top of my arm with his thumb. “Just breathe, like a slow song,” Teddy said. And I started humming one, just to remind myself how slow a slow song is.

“Teddy?” I said, when my legs finally stopped jumping and hung still over the seat of the couch.

“Yes?”

“The day after tomorrow, do I still have to say if I’m staying here or going with Ma, even if you two are done being mad?”

I could feel Teddy get stiff. “Don’t think of that now. Just think of how everything is going to go just fine tomorrow night. One thing at a time, Teaspoon.”

“But Teddy…”

“Shhhhhhh,” he said.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch, and he must have carried me into my room, because when I woke up, I’d been sleeping in my clothes. I got out of bed and went to my dresser, tipping the clock toward the window so the streetlight could help me see the time. It was three o’clock. Too early to wake up, yet I wasn’t tired anymore.