Alice Bliss - Laura Harrington [46]
She’s running down the steps of the Y, waving her arms wildly, waving her knitting like a flag.
“I’ve gotta go,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. So—”
“I’ll see you around, okay?”
He gets up and starts walking away.
She ducks her head; she knows she won’t really see him “around,” that come tomorrow they will still pass each other in the halls and she will be invisible to him and his friends—which is, of course, better than being the object of their attention and ridicule.
Funny that a bench on Main Street could be neutral territory, kind of floating in a different world with different rules where for a few minutes they could almost talk, almost see each other.
She looks up. Ellie is waiting on the steps.
“Alice, c’mon!”
John stops and turns around. He’s coming back to the bench.
“Listen, you want to come to the Red Wings game with me and my dad and Mrs. Minty?”
“Are you joking?”
“No, I’ll talk to my dad. It’s fun. You like minor league baseball?”
She wonders: Does she like baseball? Does it matter?
“Okay,” she finds herself saying. “Okay.”
“Great.”
And he’s off, jogging down the street toward home. John Kimball did not just ask me out. This is not a date, this is probably not even going to happen. This is charity Tuesday with Mrs. Minty and that weird girl whose father is in Iraq. Okay. Good deed for the day. Pull yourself together, Alice.
She joins Ellie on the steps of the Y. Ellie with her new glasses.
“Who was that?”
“Just some guy from school.”
“What’s his name?”
“John.”
“Do you like him?”
“No!”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’ve never even talked to him before today.”
“Is he popular?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you like him.”
“You’re nuts.”
“What about Henry?”
“What about Henry?”
Ellie gives her one of those all knowing smart-ass teenager kind of looks. Where does she get this stuff?
“C’mon. Let’s go find Mom,” Alice says.
“Did he ask you out?” Ellie wants to know.
“Did he ask me out? Are you kidding?”
“Did he?”
“To a Red Wings game. With Mrs. Minty.”
“See?”
“See what?”
“He asked you out.”
“Charity. Strictly charity. He must be getting his Boy Scout Buddha badge in compassion. Or selflessness.”
“They don’t have Buddha badges in the Boy Scouts. You’re making that up. Plus, he must be an Eagle Scout already.”
“Right. Eagle Scout Buddha Badge.”
“You think Mom will let you go?”
“Who knows?”
“Are you gonna ask her?”
“Maybe.”
“He’s kind of cute.”
“Ellie!”
“What? He is.”
“How was knitting?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yup.”
“I’m making a scarf for Dad. I picked double rib stitch.”
“What colors?”
“Lots of colors. Mrs. Morris has hundreds of colors.”
“Will you show me later?”
Alice takes Ellie by the hand as they head to the parking lot at the rear of the building. She listens while Ellie talks about Mrs. Morris and how she smells like spices and how Dad is gonna love the scarf of many colors even if he gets it in the wrong season and how he could use it as a talisman or a good luck symbol just like the knights of old.
“You want to hear my new favorite word?”
“Sure.”
“Hypergelast. What do you think that means?”
“Sounds like extreme gymnastics to me.”
“It means someone who can’t stop laughing!”
Ellie doubles over she is laughing so hard. She laughs and laughs. And Alice can’t help herself; she joins right in.
April 19th
The alarm didn’t go off this morning, or if it did, Alice didn’t hear it and now she’s late and to top it off she can’t find her shirt. It’s not under the bed, where she left it, carefully hidden behind her backpack; it’s not in the hamper; it’s not in the basement in the pile of laundry overflowing the laundry basket. Ellie swears she doesn’t know where it is.
“Did you take it?”
“Why would I take your smelly shirt?”
“Did you take it?”
“No, Alice, I did not take your smelly, disgusting shirt!”
“Where’s Mom?”
“How should I know?”
“I need my shirt.”
“It’s just a shirt.”
“It is not just a shirt. It’s Dad’s shirt.”
“You are obsessed.”
“I am not!”
“How is it I can be so much more mature than you are, Alice, when I’m only eight?”
“Bully for you, Miss