Blind Squirrels Page 4

  Friday – that magic gateway to the weekend. Best of all, Donna was spending the night with me. Her dad was bringing her over at three-thirty – only an hour away. I rushed home and changed into some shorts and my Cat Stevens T-shirt, and then I ate a bowl of dill pickles covered with BBQ sauce – one of my favorite snacks. By the time Donna arrived, I was thirty-six minutes into “The Creature from the Black Lagoon.”

  Donna was wearing a red shirt with balloon patterns all over it and a pair of blue knit shorts. It was the same outfit she had on the last time I saw her. And the time before that. It must be her favorite, I concluded. It never occurred to me that she might not have as many clothes as I did.

  I fixed Donna a glass of Pepsi without ice – that’s how she wanted it – and a grilled cheese sandwich. Then, while we watched the rest of the movie, I told her that my mom was cooking shrimp scampi for dinner. To say Donna was jubilant would be the biggest understatement of all time. Donna loved shrimp scampi more than anything – yes, even life – and she only got to eat it when she visited me. Donna’s brother Thomas was allergic to shrimp, so their mother had banned all seafood from their house.

  It delighted me to please my friend so easily. And the shrimp announcement wasn’t the only good news I had for her. “Guess what else?” I knew she’d never guess.

  “Glen Campbell is going to be on The Midnight Special?” How did she do that?

  “Well,” I couldn’t let her know that she’d guessed my big surprise, “I guess he is. But better than that, I’m going to show you where Max lives.” So it wasn’t a great surprise, so what?

  “Um, okay. Can I meet him?” Can you believe she asked me that?

  “Meet him? Of course not! I don’t want him to know I like him. He and I aren’t friends or anything like that.” Besides, he might think Donna was cuter than me. “Let’s finish watching the movie,” I said to distract Donna from this line of thinking. It worked. Fortunately for me, Donna had a short attention span.

  The movie ended at five, and Donna and I went outside for a walk down Heritage Street, the street I lived on. “I don’t know which house he lives in, but it’s down past my bus stop.”

  “I thought I was going to see his house.” What did Donna expect from me? I wasn’t a detective.

  “Maybe he’ll be outside, and we’ll see where he lives.” What were the odds of that happening? Pathetically slim, I hoped.

  We topped the hill that marked my bus stop, and then we continued down Heritage on the other side. The second house on the left was Erma’s. I knew this because Erma’s dad ran a TV repair shop, and the shop’s van was in the driveway. I immediately noticed some people were outside at the third house on the right. It was some of the boys from the bus stop: Terrance, Amos, and Mason. They were horsing around in someone’s front yard.

  “Is that him? Is that him?” Donna was loud enough to get the whole neighborhood’s attention. The three nitwits stopped and turned to stare at us.

  “That’s not him.” My voice was hissing worse than a leaky steam pipe.

  “Okay, okay. Just checking.” Even if Max appeared, I doubted I’d point him out to Donna now.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Kat. And she’s brought a friend. This doesn’t look like one of your usual fleas, Kat.” Mason said. He was the mouth of the group. Amos was somewhat reticent, and Terrance had to get warmed up.

  “Ignore them,” I whispered to Donna. Too late.

  “Hi, I’m Donna.” She’d honed in on Mason. His pimpled face and black horn rimmed glasses didn’t seem to bother her. I’d have to warn her later that he was also in ROTC.

  “Donna? You look sort of familiar. Maybe I’ve met you before.” Mason looked as if his brain was working overtime. It might burst through his forehead at any moment.

  “Center Middle. You’re Mason Pearson, right?” It looked as though she really knew him.

  “Donna...,” I openly revealed the irritation in my voice. “We need to be going.”

  “Why?” Mason equally displayed the ridicule in his voice. “Max can see you perfectly well from here, since he lives in the house across the street. Of course, if you’re looking for Johnny, his house is way over on Bridgeport. He walks almost a mile to the bus stop every morning. He just likes our bus better than the one that goes by his house.”

  “Oh, Kat, did you hear that? Max lives right over there.” Just in case the whole town of Foster’s Bank didn’t hear her, she pointed towards the house and said, “Right over there at number 227.”

  She always found a way to leave me stupefied. For several moments I stood by silently while Mason and Donna continued their chatter. Terrance kept whispering in Amos’ ear and then chuckling loudly. I knew he was mocking me, but I was powerless to fight back for a moment.

  When I finally found my tongue, I said simply, “You can talk to these boneheads all day if you want, but I’m going home.”

  As I turned to walk back towards my house, I looked at the house across the street. Max wasn’t outside, but some other people were. I guessed that they were Max’s parents. The man was about Max’s height. He’d lost most of his hair on top, and what remained around the edges was white. He was wearing black rimmed glasses and a blue uniform like the ones the carpet installers at Spencer’s Carpets wore. He was standing beside an old blue Buick Skylark station wagon with its hood open. I recognized the type of car because our family had owned one when I was much younger. The woman was standing at the front door watching a little dog run around in the yard. She looked like one of those dolls that you can make from Styrofoam balls: her head was a small ball, her body was a large ball, and her arms and legs were pipe cleaners. In her left hand she held a bottle of Miller High Life beer, and, to prove it was hers, she turned it up and took a long swig. She was wearing a red horizontally striped shirt and a pair of skintight red polyester shorts. Obviously wanting to be color coordinated in every way, her nose and cheeks were also a bright shade of red, but her hair was a dull white-gray mixture. I guess she had never heard of Nice ‘N Easy.

  “Alex, could you hand me Corky?” I heard her ask in a husky voice. For the first time, I noticed the cigarette in her right hand. She moved it hastily to her mouth, and, after a long draw, she left it dangling between her lips as she took the squirming dog from the man’s hands.

  As I walked away, one thought was on my mind: What a wonderful mother-in-law she’ll make.

  Soon Donna was on my heels. “Why’d you leave? They were sort of friendly. They might help you with Max.”

  “I don’t need their help. I guess I don’t need yours either.” I picked up the pace.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” She sounded sincere enough. I decided to forgive her. She was my best friend after all.

  At home, we sat down to shrimp scampi, salad, and biscuits. My mom was the best cook in the world. Donna thought so, too. She put away a ton of shrimp. My dad told jokes and funny stories that kept us laughing through the whole meal.

  Later, Donna and I were talking in my room. She was telling me about two boys – both named Steve – that she liked. She told me that Steve Jennings was very cute, but Steve Grice had a better personality. Both boys liked her, but she couldn’t decide which one she liked the best.

  “What’s Max’s last name?” she asked.

  “Savage,” I told her. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought he might be in Colleen’s old yearbook. Remember? She went to WMHS last year before they changed the school boundaries.” I did remember, and I thought it might be fun to see Max’s old picture.

  Just then, Donna said she needed to go to the bathroom. She left out of the room and I put on my Donny Osmond album – the one my brother gave me for my eleventh birthday. It had all my favorites: “Puppy Love”, Hey Girl” and “Hey There, Lonely Girl”. At first, I forgot Donna, so I didn’t wonder why she was taking so long. But after the first side of the album ended, I noticed that she still hadn’t returned.
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br />   I looked out into the hall, and the bathroom door was standing open. I didn’t see Donna anywhere. As I stepped into the hallway, I thought I heard Donna’s voice in the living room. Slipping around the corner, I saw her standing by the couch with the phone in her hand; the phone book lay on the couch spread open. No one else was present; apparently my parents had gone to bed. Then I heard Donna say, “She rides your bus. Her name is Katrina Kipling or Kat. Do you know her?”

  Donna was quiet for a moment, and then she continued. “What does she look like? Well, she has short blond hair, she wears glasses, and – uh, she’s a girl, and – um, she’s thirteen. I don’t know – she just looks like a Kat.”

  I had a sickening feeling that I knew who Donna was talking to. Still, I held my breath and gave her the benefit of a doubt. “You are Max Savage, right?” Pause. “I was just wondering. You’re very slow to catch on. She’s got to be the only girl that has a crush on you. She’s a ninth grader. She lives at 314 Heritage Street. We were standing right in front of your house today. She was the one that wasn’t quite so cute. I was the cute one.”

  Enough was enough. “Donna! What are you doing?” I came rushing into the living room.

  “Kat, he wants to talk to you.” She was holding the phone out towards me.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I took the phone. “Hello?”

  There was a deep voice on the other end, “Is this Kat?”

  “Yes.” My voice was shaking.

  “You’re the girl I sat with the other day on the bus?”

  “Y – y – yes.” I was really losing it.

  “Okay. Oh, and tell your friend not to call me anymore, okay?”

  “Sure. Whatever you say. I’m sorry.”

  “No need. It wasn’t your fault.” The phone went dead, and a dial tone reverberated through my head. “Now it’s time to kill Donna,” it was saying to me.

  In the meantime, Donna had turned the TV on. It was almost time for her “man”, Glen Campbell. How could I kill her? She was just being Donna. She thought she was doing me a favor. Maybe she had. Max and I had talked, even if it was briefly. I settled in beside Donna and decided to let her live another day. Glen Campbell needed her. She was his number one fan.

  After a bit, I noticed it was twelve-thirty. Glen Campbell had been introduced and was finally singing. His first song was Donna’s favorite, “Rhinestone Cowboy”. As it ended, I realized that Donna hadn’t been singing or oohing or ahhing. I looked over at her. She was sound asleep. I thought of waking her, but I didn’t. Revenge was sweet.

  The next morning, Donna begged me to go on another walk. I was hesitant, but I thought we might see Max, so I relented. As we approached the top of the hill, I saw Johnny, Max, Terrance, Amos, and Mason playing football in the street. Mason saw us, too, and he started yelling. I didn’t know what he was saying because he was eight or ten houses away in the middle of the block. All I do know is that everyone turned around to stare at us.

  “Let’s go back.” Yes, I was a chicken.

  “No. I missed my baby Glen last night – you’ve got to let me have some fun.” Did I say revenge was sweet?

  “Please, Donna,” I begged.

  Donna ignored me as usual. She kept walking, and stupid me kept following her. As Donna passed the boys, she was winking and smiling and flirting with them. As I passed, I tried to look straight ahead and pretend they weren’t there.

  “Hell-o.” Johnny took Donna’s bait.

  “Hi. You must be Johnny?” Great. Now they all knew I’d been telling her about them.

  “Who wants to know?” He was as slick as Donna was.

  “Donna. Donna Daley.” She extended her hand as if she expected him to kiss it. I kept walking.

  “Are we gonna play ball or what?” Mason was growing tired of this insipid little interlude. For once, he and I saw eye-to-eye.

  “You guys go on without me. The teams were lopsided anyway.” Johnny intended to really spend time with Donna.

  By now, everyone was ignoring me, and I couldn’t have been happier. Still, I couldn’t walk away and leave Donna with Johnny – not with Max so close at hand. I was well past everyone, so I turned around to face them while continuing to walk backwards away from them. The last things I remember were the resounding thud as something ran into me and the resonant ringing that filled my head as I hit the ground.

  When I opened my eyes, I could hear Donna’s voice, but I couldn’t see her. No, I wasn’t blind. Someone was blocking my view. A blurry shadow was standing over me with a damp washcloth, and they kept washing my face over and over. I was lying on a couch, but I didn’t know where I was.

  “She’s waking up.” The “someone” that was above me was a guy. His deep voice was as of yet indistinct to me.

  “Whew,” I heard Donna say. “I just knew her mom was gonna kill me for letting her die.” That’s Donna – always full of concern.

  “I think she’ll be okay. It was just a little bump. I didn’t mean to hit her.” My eyes were focusing. Was it Max showing all this concern?

  “She shouldn’t have turned around.” I knew Terrance’s squeaky little biting voice.

  The guy standing over me wasn’t Max. It wasn’t Johnny. He looked familiar, but I still hadn’t regained my senses. It wasn’t Terrance or Amos. Thank God it wasn’t Mason. But who? No, it couldn’t be…Anyone but Travis Cartwright.

  “Are you okay?” It was Travis all right.

  “I’m fine,” I said, pushing Travis away. “Just let me get up.” My head started spinning, and I fell back onto the couch. “I just need to sit here for a few minutes.”

  “Would you like some Pepsi?” Max was here! Maybe this was his house.

  “We don’t have any Pepsi.” Mason. Oh, jeez. This was Mason’s house. “My mom only buys Dr. Pepper.”

  “Ice water would be okay.” I always preferred water to any other drink – especially if it was ice cold.

  I noticed that Johnny wasn’t in the room. Donna was feigning concern, but I knew that she was just perturbed. Johnny had left in a time of distress, and he hadn’t even cared that Donna might be in trouble over the whole thing. Some charming hero he turned out to be. Maybe Terrance, Mason, and Amos were pesky, but at least they didn’t run away from a crisis. And maybe Travis wasn’t so bad after all.

  Mason handed me a glass of ice water. “What happened to me?” I asked.

  Mason began, “You were walking backwards...,”

  Donna added, “Travis was approaching us on his bike...,”

  Travis finished. “I thought that you stopped. I – I guess…I was trying to tease you. I wanted to zip by you and scare you. But you were walking, and I misjudged. I ran into you with my bike. I’m sorry.”

  I thought for a moment. Travis no longer looked like a convict – just a scared boy. “It’s okay,” I finally said. “It was an accident. But how did I wind up in Mason’s house?”

  “Travis carried you in.” Donna could hardly contain the excitement in her voice.

  “His back is probably in worse shape than your head.” Mason always had an insult handy.

  “She was light as a feather.” The look in Travis’s eyes nauseated me.

  “I think we’d better break this up and all go home.” Max sounded disgusted. Was he jealous? I could only hope.

  I was feeling better, so we all left Mason’s house. I wanted to walk home, but Travis insisted that I ride with him on his bike. Luckily, his bike had a banana seat, so we both fit. As he whisked me away, Donna followed on foot. At home, I climbed off his bike and thanked him for the ride.

  “I really am sorry.” He looked so miserable.

  “I know. It’s okay. You didn’t mean it.” I just wanted him to leave.

  “You forgive me?” What he wanted was becoming clearer by the minute.

  “Yeah, sure. Whatever. Now I better get inside. I’ve got a killer headache.” Go away. I don’t like you. Can I be any plainer?

  “Okay. See ya at the
bus stop Monday. Bye.” Thank goodness he was leaving.

  Donna walked up, and we went inside. She had a sly smile on her face. I pretended not to notice.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Travis? He likes you,” her eyes twinkled with mischief. “You did know that, right?” She was so intuitive.

  “I don’t like him. Not that way. My heart belongs to Max.” How many times did I have to explain?

  “You wouldn’t like him if you’d heard all the things he said about you. Travis was about to jump on him. I think you should concentrate on Travis.” Notice how she didn’t specifically say what Max said.

  “I’ve got a headache. I’m gonna lie down. What time are you leaving?” I wanted it to be soon.

  “Dad won’t be by until after three. We’ve still got hours to be together. You rest for a while. I’ll fix lunch, and then we’ll watch TV. It’s almost time for American Bandstand.” Count on Donna to act as if nothing had happened. I retreated to my room and vowed that Donna wouldn’t spend the night again for a very long time.

  I expected Monday to be another embarrassing day, but I was wrong. Only Travis mentioned the incident, and I told him I didn’t want to talk about it. Otherwise, it was a perfectly boring day at WMHS – the beginning of a boring week.

  Olivia, Aurelia, and I were becoming closer. I now looked forward to lunch for other reasons besides eating. I told them about my weekend mishap, and they found the whole story quite comical. They made me see the humor in it, too. Thanks to them, I started finding humor in a lot of things.

  As the weeks passed, I became complacent at WMHS. Max was always around at lunch and in the mornings before school, but he never talked to me or showed an interest. Travis persisted with his advances, but I played them off as a joke. Most things stayed the same. I was, however, adding to my list of friends.

  Alice Lawson was a girl in my homeroom class. She had round plump cheeks and an engaging smile. She was also in my Biology class, so we eventually forged a friendship. Alice knew of my crush on Max, and she offered to help me with him. Her dark eyes lit up whenever she got a chance to help one of her friends. She was small and wiry, but she always stood up to the mean girls when they started making fun of me. Alice introduced me to several of those girls, and soon they were treating me with more kindness. Alice convinced me that she could even persuade Max to love me if I gave her the chance.