Okay, if you got confused with the Authors Note in the biginning of chapter four, don't worry. I confused myself a little there too. You can ignore pretty much all of it. Except for where I said that I don't own anything that came from Twilight. I might get sued if I said I owned that…dunno. My family isn't involved in law. Anyhoo…Here is: CHAPTER FIVE!
My Life Isn't Always Perfect, But Sometimes, It Can Seem Like It
Chapter Five
After some really bad health snacks-health nut bars that weighed a pound each and tasted like earwax-I snuck away and sat in a bathroom stall. I was waiting for twenty past four so I could get on the bus and go home. I wasn't going to go back to the Scout meeting and take any chance Sister Lucille would want to check the ledger to see if it was time to make a deposit in the bank.
I was in trouble with a capital "T". Up to my armpits in alligators, like Grandpa would say.
I knew I had to tell on Beth, but if I did, it would probably send Mom right over the edge. She was used to Beth screwing up, but this was the worst ever. If she found out that Beth had stolen money from the St. Dominic's Scout treasury, it would do her in. Chances were she'd pack her bags and just drive off and leave us. Just like Aunt Irene said Mom wanted to do after she first found out about Dad six years ago.
Mom had just gotten back to kinda acting like her old when Grandpa died last year. It about did us all in. He'd been our main guy ever since Dad left. He fixed things around the house, made us laugh till our sides hurt, took us out to fancy dinners whenever he could, and when she wasn't looking, he'd stuff Mom's wallet with cash from his Social Security check.
Then she'd stuff it back in his jacket pocket when he wasn't looking because she was too proud, is what Beth would say.
All the brightness got sucked out of our lives when he died. Grandpa lived his life like it was one big adventure. Like the time he got knocked out of a tree by lightening and didn't die or anything. It was my favorite story and I'd make him tell it to me over and over.
He said back when he was a boy, he was out playing in the woods when a fierce storm barreled in. He said the lightening and thunder were flashing and booming at the same time, which meant he was squat in the middle of it. He knew he should get home, but if he did, his mom would make him get away from the windows and not let him watch. And my grandpa loved a good storm! So he climbed up into a tree and tried to make himself real small so he wouldn't be such a target. Well, it rained and hailed and crackled and thundered all around him. And then it got quiet for one long Ohio second, he'd say. Then the hairs on his head stood straight up and his hands started to tingle. And ka-BLAM went the lightening and hit the tree and split a branch right off-the very one he was sitting on. He fell right off and landed in the mud.
And I'd always say, "Grandpa, you could have been killed!" and he'd always say, "THAT one didn't have my name on it, May. I knew it sure, even back then."
The one that finally did have his name on it was a flash called Stroke and it took him fast and merciful. When Grandpa's housekeeper came the next morning, he was lying on the floor next to his bed with his ancient cat, Pretty Girl, sitting right on top of him like a big fluffy cake ornament.
I made a silent prayer to Grandpa, even though Sister Lucille said you couldn't really pray to dead relatives for things-though you could say hello. But Sister Lucille didn't know Grandpa. If there was a way he could help me, I just know he would. I'd wait until I got home so I could pray to him in person. Well, almost in person.
The stall door next to me banged shut. I lifted my feet up and sat cross-legged on the seat. I didn't want anyone to know where I was right now. I leaned over to see who's feet they were. Big black tennies that looked kind of familiar.
I listened as my bathroom neighbor pulled a toilet-seat cover from the box on the wall. Whoever it was had nice hygiene manners, as Mom called it. I could hear the r-r-rip as she punched out the little donut hole in the middle.
"Dangnammit!" she swore. I heard her ball up the toilet-seat cover and throw it into the very short white trash can on the floor.
She pulled a fresh one from the wall dispenser. It got real quiet for a minute, and I heard the first trickle hit the paper. I have excellent hearing for these kinds of things. The tissue started crackling again. "Christopher Columbus!"
I caught my breath and held it. It was Emmy Triboni! She'd made that the new cool thing to say after we learned all the bad stuff Columbus did to the Native Americans. The nuns didn't mind because they said it in Little Women too.
I heard her jump off the seat and turn, tennies facing the toilet. A pair of bright blue panties came sliding down her legs like fireman down two long poles.
"Dang stupid thing!" she whispered. A tissue storm broke out in her stall, with a bunch of scrunching, tearing, and ripping.
"I hate those things too." I said finally, when it quieted down. "They just never stay put."
"Yeah, no kidding. Who is that over there, anyway?" she asked.
"It's me, Emmy-Esme." I licked my lips. Come on, girl, I told myself, Here's your chance. Just ask her! But what if she thought my idea was stupid?
"Oh, hey, May," she said, and sighed. I heard her sit back down hard with a clunk and probably not on a toilet-seat cover. "And if you don't get the hole torn out just right-"
"It catches there, and you puddle up…"
She giggled. "Yeah, and the puddle rolls right over onto your leg."
We sighed together.
"Somebody should invent better toilet-seat covers." She said, "You could probably make a million bucks."
My heart started galloping like a wild mustang. And the world's most sensational Discovery Project idea came to me in a dazzling flash of light. I jumped down from my seat and turned to stare at the toilet lid. That's it, I thought in amazement, it would work, I just knew it!
I shivered in excitement. I could almost see the statues they'd put up in front of St. Dominic's one day of me and Emmy-famous inventors, famous rich girls, and famous best friends.
"Hey, Emmy!" I said, my voice burbling with excitement. "When you're done over there, come here a sec. I gotta show you something. I'm about to change your life."
Mom had flour all over her hands when I got home from Scouts. Pretty Girl hissed and swiped at me as I hurried by. She was still mad as heck about Grandpa up and dying on her.
"Where's Beth Mom?" I asked, still huffing from my run home from the bus stop. "I couldn't find her anywhere after Scouts and I waited and waited and finally I had to go or I'd miss the bus."
Mom turned around and plugged her fists into her hips. "Beth didn't help you get on the bus?"
"No! I couldn't find her anywhere!"
She gave a big deep sigh but her face stayed all pinched. I knew what she was thinking. About the mean big kids who made fun of me and Beth on the downtown bus and then they made us give them all our money. It happened two years ago, and Mom still worried about us.
"Mom, I'm fine. Nothing happened. But where is she?"
"Well, she called after Scouts and said that Mrs. Finch had invited her to come home with Phil and have dinner. I said yes, but I told her she first had to get you on the bus safely. And to make sure you were sitting by someone nice."
"Well, I didn't see her anywhere."
Mom washed her hands off quickly. "I'm going to call her right now and have her sent home."
"No, don't! Let her stay." I liked having the house to myself. I pulled off my baseball cap and dumped my backpack on the table. The stolen money would be safe over there. Mrs. Finch was pretty strict and I knew Beth and Phil would have to stay home and couldn't go out shopping and spend it before I could get it back.
"Esme!" Mom said, rising off her hands and coming over to me. "What have you got all over your hair?" She leaned closer to sniff. "And where are those new bunny barrettes I got you?"
"Oh, uh, I left them at school in my desk. They felt kind of loose and I didn't want them to fall out." I lied before I could stop myself.
Mom pulled me over to the sink and turned on the water. "What in God's name did you put in your hair?"
"It's toothpaste. Beth did it. It was supposed to be styling gel, except we didn't have any. I tried to make her stop." I surrendered to the warm water running through my hair, and Mom massaging my scalp. That was one of the ways that Mom changed the most. She hardly touched us anymore unless it was to feed or clean us. Now I just kinda sucked it up when I could get it.
"Esme, you've got to learn to hold your own against her. Say no when you need to."
"She's really hard to stop, Mom." Io said, thinking past the toothpaste to the keys to the treasury. I still couldn't believe she'd gotten them from me.
"Well," Mom said, "it sounds like it's time to put Beth back on her success chart."
My head reared up like one of those Killer Whales surfacing at Sea Universe. Water flew everywhere. "No, Mom! Not another success chart!" I sputtered.
"Es-me!" she sid, pushing me back down and trying to blot us both dry with a dishtowel. "Beth needs to be reined in from time to time. Putting toothpaste in your hair before school is completely out of line. I won't have it."
A success chart was Mom's idea of curing Beth's bossy behavior. Beth got stars for being "appropriate" with me, and ot grounded when she didn't. Beth ended up getting stars for the biggest upchucking display of fake Nice Sister behiavior you've ever seen. She could turn the stars in for money if she earned enough. If she blew it, she got grounded. To our room. Like where I lived. So I was the one who ended up getting punished. I asked Mom if she could ground Beth to the backyard, but Mom said it was too cold out there. And the neightbors might complain.
Mom turned my head and ran warm water over my ears and the back of my neck. Her voice was more like a muffled hum now, but I could guess what she was saying. She was worried I'd end up like Dad. It was a sermon I'd heard plenty of times before.
She turned off the water. "-and she has such a strong personality. You're going to have to deal with people like her your whole life." She pulled me up and threw a clean dishtowel over my head. Gave my scalp a brisk rub. I watched her face as she gace my head a good going-over, as if one single drop of damp would lead me straight to pneumonia. I fought an urge to lay my head on her shoulder and confess the whole sorry mess eight then and there. I tried to guess what she would say. But it wouldn't be what she would say. It would be the look on her face. I took a big breath and let the moment slide away.
"Hey! Guess what?" I said, desperate to change the subject.
"Well, what?" she said, turning back to the bread she was making. It was her weekend therapy, she'd always say.
"Emmy Triboni is going to be my Discovery Project partner!" I said, loving the way her name just rolled off my tongue.
Mom looked over at me and gave me a small smile. "Great! Did she like your idea about refizzing flat soda?"
I tried to shake some water from my ear. "Not that one. I got an even better idea today." I was so relived t get past the near-moment-of-confession that I sounded a little crazy, like when I had too much sugar. "and Emmy loved it! I bet we win best Discovery Project! Isn't that GREAT?"
"So, what is it?" Mom looked intrigued.
"I can't tell you! My maybe-new-best-friend Emmy and me agreed that it has to be top secret. We can't tell anyone. Not even mothers." I added. I took the towel from Mom and wiped my face off. "But I need something of yours to make our project. But I can't tell you what it is because it would be a big clue. So can I have it?"
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Now, May, how can I answer that?"
"You for sure don't need them anymore." I said. "And the box they come in said it only costs a dollar ninety-nine. Please, Mom, please it's for schooool!"
She threw her hands up. "I give! They're yours, Madame Curie. Go forth and discover!"
I ran down the hall to call Emmy, feeling like I'd been stuck on some crazy carnival ride all day. Thrilled and sick to my stomach all at once.
Ta-da! Chapter five. Sorry if the whole bathroom scene was a little weird, that was the time I had just finished some candy, and I got a little weird. Not like sugar-rush weird, just, like, well, weird. I don't get sugar-rushes, surprisingly. I'm just a naturally weird person. Anyway, I think the chapter where Esme starts making the science project will get creepy, too. So, um, if you don't like creepy, well, uh, don't read those chapters.
