Dinner Guest
Chapter 2 of Secret Agent
Beaver was a bundle of nerves as evening approached. He wandered about the bedroom wringing his hands. Would Miss Landers find dust somewhere, or a carpet stain? Maybe a crack in the woodwork? He'd extracted a promise from dad not to cuss, made sure mom didn't make anything that wasn't top notch, like a restaurant would make. He even pestered Wally to keep his tie straight.
"Lighten up, ya little goof," Wally retorted. "You'd think Queen Elizabeth was comin'."
Beaver flipped through the calculus book Wally had found at a thrift store. "What's calculus?"
"Well, you go all the way through algebra and trigonometry, then you can start calculus. It's all graphs. You can find the area of stuff that doesn't have nice straight sides, even if they're curved."
"What good is that?"
"Because you need it for buildin' bridges or rockets. And don't worry—I'm gonna ask her about a problem on page ten, which is as far as I got."
"Good, 'cause I can't think of anything to talk about, and I don't wanna look like a dummy."
Wally shrugged. "She's in the same boat. What can she talk to us about? But we gotta hang in there. Mom and dad are countin' on us to keep her entertained while they get things ready."
Beaver paced some more, mind awhirl. "I better go down and keep an eye out. You comin'?"
"Nah. I gotta look over this problem again. I wanna sound halfway smart, so I don't look like a creep."
Beaver went downstairs, wondering what to tell the guys the next day. If anything was goofed up, he'd never hear the end of it. He could hear them now: My day wouldn't have said that; My mom would have served something better; Wally should have known better. He wandered around the living room, turned a magazine even with the edge of the coffee table, checked for fingerprints. They were as ready as they were going to be. By the good smells from the patio, he could tell Dan had timed it well. On his fourth trip to the window, he spotted a white convertible pull up to the curb.
"Mom, Dad, she's here, she's here! Hey Wally!"
His mom rushed in, drying her hands. "Beaver, will you relax?" He pointed at the dish towel, which she stuffed under a sofa cushion. She answered the doorbell. "Come in, Miss Landers! Glad you could make it!"
Dad came in, having taken off his grilling apron. "We've heard great things about you! Beaver, take her sweater, would you?" While Beaver did that, his mom led their guest to the sofa. Where the heck was Wally?
"Beaver," his mom said, "stay with Miss Landers while I go out back."
He settled uneasily next to her, couldn't remember any of his planned topics even at gunpoint.
His teacher seemed well at ease, content to let him stew, until she said, "Well, Beaver, are you glad to be back together with your old classmates?"
"Yeah, except that creepy Judy Hensler." That slipped out. Would he get in trouble over it?
She laughed. "Judy can be a handful."
With his stock used up, Beaver sat like a lump, sweating bullets. He noticed the high heel sandals, saw a glint of rose colored nail polish through the sheer black fabric. Until now, he wasn't sure teachers even had feet.
She caught him looking. Both came up with awkward smiles. Just then, his mom came in with appetizers, and Wally finally came down.
"Chicken salad," Miss Landers said after tasting one. "Is that relish?"
"No. I chop bread and butter pickles very fine, then add pepper, lemon juice, and celery."
"I'm going to steal your recipe!"
Things lagged again, so Beaver tugged his brother's arm. "Miss Landers!" Wally piped. "I couldn't solve this problem. It's like the slide rule is broke or somethin'."
She looked over his figures. "Not the slide rule. The function has a vertical asymptote at X equals three." Blank stares. "A point where the function is undefined because it involves division by zero."
"My," Mom said. "Where did you find time to study higher math?"
"At Heidelberg University during my undergraduate program. Of course, that meant learning German at the same time. The best way to do that for any language is to drop right into the culture, and sink or swim. One gets highly motivated."
Maybe Larry was right. She was Wonder Woman. Beaver had to say something, or sit her like a dope. "It must be hard to learn German."
"Not really, since it's our parent language. But it does have a gender system for nouns that has no rhyme or reason. You just have to memorize it."
So she could operate in Germany. Maybe she was a spy after all.
Dad peeked out from the kitchen. "Soup's on!"
Aw, Dad, I asked you not to say that!
"Beaver," Mom said, "take Miss Landers' arm."
But it was bare. "Uh—Miss Landers, can I take your hand instead?" He reached for it, escorted her out to the patio, while Wally did the same for Mom. Dad had just finished setting out steak and corn on each plate. He came around to hold the end seat for Miss Landers, and Wally did the same for Mom. Beaver took his place to the teacher's right. Right away he noticed something odd about the tree. He had to squint to be sure. That dopey Larry! They were just dying to see something crazy, and Beaver would croak if they did.
There wasn't much talk as everyone sliced and diced. Miss Landers stood her cob on its end and used a knife to shave off a neat pile of corn. His mom quietly copied the idea. Beaver considered it, but decided he'd only cut off his finger. Now she trimmed fat off the steak like a pro. He wondered how good she was at throwing a knife.
"Care for steak sauce?" Dad asked.
"Heinz fifty-seven. I like a little heat."
Mom brought up the town's history, how much it had changed. Dan and Wally jumped in, leaving Beaver free to watch the tree. Those clowns were going to be disappointed waiting for anything to happen, since Miss Landers was a perfect lady, even taking little sips of her iced tea.
Soon enough, the family began clearing plates, once again leaving Beaver to keep Miss Landers company. She leaned close. "What do you suppose those boys are doing up there?"
Beaver blanched. "I didn't know they were gonna pull a trick like this, honest!"
"I believe you. Perhaps they want to see me do a cartwheel or something."
"No, don't do that!"
She laughed once more. "Don't be silly. If you ask me, that tree needs watering." She got up and went to the hose, turned on the valve, and dragged the hose toward the tree. A stream of water hit the base and began to track upward.
Whitey, Gilbert and Larry dropped down.
Miss Landers still held the pistol grip on them. "Let's hear it, boys."
"It was Larry's idea!" Gilbert insisted. "Shoot him, not us!" Beaver had to shake his head at their loyalty to each other.
She set the hose aside. "The school year hasn't even started yet. Is this how it's going to be?" Beaver's dad approached.
"We're dead," Whitey decided.
"Some of my boys from school dropped in, so to speak, to say hello," said Miss Landers.
"Fine," Dad said. "How about ice cream?"
Gilbert and Whitey followed him and Miss Landers up to the patio, but Larry held back. "This doesn't change anything, Beaver. Tomorrow's Sunday. Wally has to find out where she goes. Did you see how she held that water gun?"
"Okay, Larry, but I got a feelin' I don't wanna know."