The Girls' Revenge (5 page)

Wally, who had picked up a handful of tinsel, felt it fall through his fingers again. “What… did you tell her?” he asked.

“I said it sounded positively disgusting. That we never ate parsnips and didn't much care for chicken livers either. She said that Caroline must have misunderstood. ‘I guess she did!’ I told her. ‘The favorite food in our house is pizza.’ Then Caroline came by the hardware store and said she was looking for a book called
Military Strategy
… oh, I forget the exact title. It wasn't in the library, and she wondered if we had a copy.”

Wally's voice began to squeak. “What did you tell her?” he asked again.

“I told her it was not a book that anyone in our family would read, and she'd better try someone else. Then she said she was looking for a good book to read herself, and wondered what your favorite books were, Wally. I told her about those mysteries on your shelf and she thanked me and said it was exactly the kind of book she wanted, and maybe she'd come over and borrow one sometime. I hope I said the right thing— that she was welcome to borrow one of yours.”

Wally held back a groan.

“She even asked what time you went to bed, and I told her as late as you possibly could—that more than
once I'd found you reading by flashlight under the blankets. Is that girl sweet on you or something—all these questions?”

This time a long tortured cry came from Wally's lips.

“Mom, I wish you wouldn't talk about me to Caroline. I don't care what she asks, you don't have to tell her.”

Mrs. Hatford looked confused. “I didn't know what else to do, Wally. She's obviously interested in you. She was just being nice.”

“She wasn't being nice, Mom, she was being nosy! The next time Caroline asks you a question, tell her to ask me.”

“All right,” said his mother. “Why do I get the feeling that I don't know half of what goes on around here?”

“Because you probably don't, Ellen,” said her husband. “And I have the feeling you wouldn't want to know. Let Wally and Caroline work things out for themselves.”

Great!
thought Wally. Now Caroline not only had proof that he was fibbing, but she had the correct answers too. Now she got to eat pizza and stay up late and read mystery books too!

Wally dreaded going to school on Monday because they had to give their reports on each other, and he hadn't spent very much time trying to imagine what it would feel like to be Caroline. In fact, he hadn't tried to imagine it at all.

He got out of bed at last, and looked for his baggy
blue pants. He couldn't find them anywhere. He put on a pair of old jeans instead, and then he looked for his sneakers with the purple laces. He couldn't find those either.

Wally stood in the center of his floor, tipped back his head, and bellowed at the ceiling, one long, continuous
“Arrrggghhh!”

“You calling a moose?” asked his father, sticking his head in the bedroom. “Hurry and dress, now. If you're ready when I leave for the P.O., I'll give you a ride. It's cold out there.”

The four boys ate their cereal, then piled into Dad's car. Peter was lugging a big plastic leaf bag, which he clutched tightly in one hand, and was the first out of the car when they reached the school. He ran on ahead of the others and disappeared down a corridor toward his second-grade class.

After Miss Applebaum had taken the roll, she said, “We still have eight more reports to hear, so I think we'll start with those this morning. I want to finish them before Christmas vacation. Remember, I'm looking for how well we are increasing our powers of observation. I want to see how well you listened, how original you were with your questions, and what you learned about the art of the interview. Wally and Caroline, you're next on my list. Who wants to go first?”

“I do,” said Wally. He wanted to get it over with. He wanted to feel that this would be the last time in his entire life he would ever have to say Caroline's name out loud in public.

He stood up in front of the room and tried not to look at Caroline. He told the class when Caroline was
born, and how she'd had the chicken pox but not the mumps. She had two fillings in her teeth, she'd never broken a bone, and she would rather go to the dentist than throw up. “What was it like to be Caroline Malloy for a day?” he said. “Actually, rather boring,” he answered. And then he sat down. He heard Caroline asking permission to go to the rest room, and her footsteps leaving the room.
Ha!
He grinned in spite of himself.

Miss Applebaum was frowning, however. She said that while the questions Wally had asked Caroline might have seemed original, they did not deal with the important things about a person at all, and therefore we did not know Caroline much better after the interview than we did before.

Wally didn't care.
Flunk me,
he decided. It would be worth it just to make sure he wouldn't have to be in Caroline's class next year if the Malloys stayed on.

As the class discussed what was good about his report and what wasn't, Wally realized suddenly that there was no one breathing on the back of his neck, no poke in the ribs. Caroline wasn't back yet. What was taking her so long? Had she gone home?

“All right, let's hear from Caroline next,” Miss Applebaum said, and then she asked, “Where
is
Caroline?” The door at the back of the room opened, and in walked Caroline Malloy.

She had on a T-shirt that said BUCKMAN EXXON in red-and-blue letters on the front, baggy blue pants, white tube socks with yellow and green stripes around the tops (she'd rolled the pant legs up so everyone could see), a pair of black Nikes with purple laces, and
a dirty baseball cap worn backward. Everyone started to laugh.

“What it feels like to be Wally Hatford,” Caroline began, smiling too. She patted the clothes she was wearing: “Wally's shirt, Wally's trousers, Wally's socks …” She held up one foot. “Wally's shoes…” And then, most humiliating of all, Wally found, she raised the bottom of the T-shirt to show the waistband of his Fruit Of The Looms: “Wally's underpants.”

Seven
Humiliation

C
aroline was in her glory. The only thing better than this would be standing onstage in a huge auditorium before a thousand people.

She loved being onstage. She
adored
being the center of attention. And someday, she knew, her name would be in lights on Broadway and people would pay a hundred dollars just to see Caroline Lenore Malloy in a play.

Meanwhile, she had to make do with the fourth-grade class at Buckman Elementary, and she played it for all it was worth.

“I decided that if I had to be Wally Hatford for a day, I should be as close to the real thing as I could get, so I borrowed his clothes,” she said.

The class laughed again, and Caroline could see Wally's ears burning as red as the nose on Rudolph the Reindeer.

It serves him right,
she told herself. Wally could describe
her as dramatic or loud or conceited or even crazy, but how dare he call her boring? Caroline Malloy was never boring. And so the brighter Wally's ears burned, the better she felt.

“What it's like to be Wally Hatford for a day is to be Mr. Average,” she continued. “He isn't very smart, but you can't call him stupid; he's never late for school, but he takes his time about getting here. The most interesting feature about Wallace James Hatford is that he lies.”

Miss Applebaum leaned forward and looked at Caroline. Caroline merely nodded for emphasis.

“It's sad, but true. I discovered later that everything he told me during our interview was a lie. His favorite food is not parsnips and chicken livers, it's pizza. The best book he ever read was not
The History of Military Strategy in the United States in the Eighteenth Century,
it's
The Bodies in the Bessledorf Hotel.
It took some skillful detective work on my part, but I—”

“May I interrupt?” came Miss Applebaum's voice from behind her.

Caroline frowned as she turned toward the teacher's desk.
How rude!
Whoever heard of interrupting an actress during a play!
Stay in character,
she told herself.
Just freeze, and as soon as she stops talking, start in again right where you left off.
This would be a good lesson in improvising.

“Class,” said Miss Applebaum. “These two reports are the finest examples I know of how
not
to conduct an interview. Caroline and Wally were obviously more intent on annoying each other than they were in doing this assignment, which was to improve our observing
and listening skills. An interviewer who approaches her subject already knowing how she feels about him cannot possibly be unprejudiced. An interview like that is worse than no interview at all, because it simply passes on to others our own prejudices. Therefore, both Wally and Caroline have failed the December project, and I don't think we need to hear any more, Caroline. You may take your seat.”

Caroline stood speechless at the front of the room. This couldn't be happening! You simply did not turn off the lights in the middle of a performance! You did not pull the curtain when the actress was center stage. She still had her best lines to say! She still had to tell how Wally—

“You may sit down, Caroline,” the teacher said again. “Though I would suggest you go into the rest room and change back into your own clothes.”

It was Caroline's face that burned now, but Wally seemed to take no pleasure in it. His ears were still fiery red and he sat staring down at a pencil eraser on his desk.

The rest of the class watched as Caroline stumbled back to her seat, picked up the shopping bag with her own clothes in it, and fled the room, tears running down her cheeks.

This was horrible! It was awful! She had heard of plays closing in New York after only a few performances, but she had never, ever heard of a play so bad that they brought down the curtain right in the middle of the show. She leaned against the paper-towel dispenser and bawled.

For the rest of the day Caroline did not look at
Wally or he at her. She hardly looked at anyone else either, and the other kids left her alone. How would she ever get over the embarrassment? She would never live it down—never, never, never! Why hadn't Miss Applebaum sent Wally to his seat when he described her as boring? He had deserved everything she'd said about him! And then, silently interviewing herself, Caroline admitted that she had planned the grand humiliation of Wally Hatford even before he'd got up to give his report. Even before he'd called her life boring. In fact, the only reason she'd chosen him for a partner at all was to make him think she was his friend so he would accept a gross-me-out present.

How could she think he would be friendly now? How did she think he'd dare open any gift she gave him? She had gotten so carried away by her own plans that she'd forgotten what she'd set out to do in the first place.

I don't care,
she thought angrily, turning all her anger back onto Wally again.
I am going to make him as miserable as I can this Christmas, and if we're both stuck in fourth grade for the rest of our lives, he'll be sorry he ever heard the name Malloy.

Miss Applebaum did not say anything more to either Caroline or Wally that afternoon. The fact that it was snowing when school let out made it even worse somehow. Ordinarily, Caroline would climb up on the highest object handy, toss back her head, throw out her arms, and cry, “Snow! Wonderful snow!”, letting it coat her hair and eyelashes.

But she shuffled along with her head down, her
shoulders hunched, until Beth caught up with her and grabbed her arm.

“Caroline, what's wrong?” she asked.

Caroline was afraid to answer for fear she might cry again. And if she cried out here on the sidewalk, someone would be bound to see and report it to the Hatfords. How could she feel so miserable in the season of peace and joy? How could she have
acted
so miserable, even to Wally Hatford?

“What's wrong?” Beth asked again.

“Only the major embarrassment of my life,” Caroline replied, choking. “Not only that, but I—I failed fourth grade!” Her tears came in spite of herself. But by then Eddie had caught up with them, and, comforted by the presence of her two older sisters, one on either side of her, Caroline spilled out her story in gulps and sniffles.