Close to Famous (7 page)

“All right, I'm popping this in the oven, and in about ten minutes, it's going to be great.” I smiled at Lester's daddy's stupid, dead fish.

“Let me tell you something about sad days. They're just part of life, but the best thing you can do on the happy days or on the sad ones is to do what you do best with everything you've got. The bravest man I knew told me that.” I leaned against the sink and crossed my arms tight. “He died in a war. I wish war had never been invented. But right now, let's have a moment of silence for every person lost in every war that has ever been, and all the kids who miss them.”

I stood by the sink, hugging myself, hearing the clock
tick tock
. I'm not sure how long a moment of silence is supposed to be, but after a while, it seemed long enough.

I heard the pizzas sputtering, put on my oven mitt, took the pizzas out of the oven, and laughed at the smiley faces. “See, they're perfect. Golden and bubbly, but not burned. And you're going to love the thin, crispy crust.” I leaned over to smell it. “Don't forget to smell what you've made, because that's part of the fun. I learned that from Sonny Kroll, the second bravest man I know, although I don't really know him. And don't forget to turn the oven off. That's a major kitchen safety tip.”

I turned the oven off, got out my pizza wheel, and started cutting. “You can't make a smiling pizza and not feel better. We're going to talk about everything you can think of on this show.”

Huck started calling a few times each day. Mama stopped answering her phone, but she still had the messages to deal with about how he loved her and he couldn't live without her.

It's funny, I hadn't minded Huck in the beginning. He was actually pretty nice. He told me, “One of these days, you're going to turn into a fine reader.”

“I don't think so, Huck.”

“Don't go saying that now. You think I became one of the best Elvises overnight? No, girl. I set my mind to get there. I'd wear long underwear so I could sweat like a pig onstage. Every day, I'd ask myself, what would Elvis do?”

But when my report card came, he called me a loser. He could never make up his mind.

I think he loved Mama in his own way, but he didn't have the kind of love that wanted her to shine. Huck had room for only one star in the sky—his.

“You're not going to see him again, right?” I asked Mama.

“I'm not going to see him,” she promised.

Mama started making the rounds in Culpepper to find work. She went to the prison and tried to get a job answering the phone, but they weren't hiring. Jarvis at FOOD didn't need help; neither did the gas station. Then Mama and I were in Fish Hardware buying a mop and Mama decided to go for it.

“I'm handy as all get-out,” she told Mr. Fish. “I can fix a toilet, repair a car, and work a power saw.” Mama learned all that from books. It just shows you how lucky good readers are. “You need some life in here,” Mama added.

From the back I heard a voice say, “We sure do, Daddy.” A girl a little older than me walked up. She had freckles and straight brown hair that touched her shoulders. Mr. Fish, a gray, boring man, seemed nervous.

“You can try me out for a week,” Mama said.

Mr. Fish coughed. “Well, I'm not sure.”

“We've got lots of new things planned for the store,” the girl announced.

“Maybe,” her father told her.

“Daddy!” The girl put her hands on her hips and stared at her father as the door opened and Perseverance Wilson marched in. Mr. Fish looked like he wanted to run.

“Fish,” she shouted, “we need to talk.”

“I'm just getting our new employee here situated, Ms. Wilson.” He looked at Mama. “When did you say you could start?”

Mama grinned. “How about now?”

“My daughter, Amy, will show you around.” He walked quickly out the door.

Perseverance Wilson called after him, “You can run, Fish, but you can't hide.” She turned to Amy. “Nothing personal, honey.”

Amy bit her lip and walked Mama to the back, saying, “I've been reorganizing the store so things are easier to find. Over there is where we'll have our Cool Tools section. That's my idea.”

“I like it,” Mama said.

“My father doesn't.”

Percy eyed me. “How you getting on?”

“Okay.”

“You making friends?”

I shrugged.

She took me by the arm. “Come and meet Garland. He's about your age and close to the finest boy God ever put on this earth. I'm not just saying that because he's my son.” We went outside, and a tall boy with short, curly hair was doing stretches. He was the one I'd seen running. Percy cleared her throat. “This here is Foster, and she needs a friend.”

I wish she hadn't said it that way! “I'm new,” I explained.

Garland smiled real friendly. “You run?” he asked me.

“I bake.”

He thought about that. “What do you bake?”

“Just about anything.”

“Chocolate cake?”

“Yeah.”

“Blueberry pie?”

I nodded.

He tied his sneaker. “Snickerdoodles, oatmeal cookies . . .”

“Yes,” I said. “And a hundred other things.”

“How come you're not baking?”

“How come you're not running?”

Garland grinned good enough for TV. “ 'Cause I'm talking to you.” He checked his watch. “But I've got to practice or my coach will kill me.”

He sped down the street, jumping over fences. Percy watched him go. “See, it's not so bad around here.”

I tried my best not to smile too big.

“I'M HERE TO talk to you about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Macon stood by our open door and took a deep breath. “I talked to Miss Charleena about you, Foster, and even though she doesn't like having people around, even though she is still grieving the loss of so much of her life and all the awful things her ex-husband did to her in public . . .” He breathed. “But at least the Hostess truck came in. We can all be grateful for
that.
”

“What is it, Macon?”

He looked up at me. “She said that you can come to her house with me. I've got to work in her garden, and you can help.”

“Get ready for an experience,” Lester shouted from the tomato garden.

“So, Foster, do you want to come with me to meet Miss Charleena tomorrow?”

I'd never met somebody who was famous before, even though I'd never heard of her.

“I've got to ask my mama.”

“Ask her what?” Mama walked up.

Macon went into his once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity speech.

“How long have you been working for her?” Mama asked him.

“Six months. Miss Charleena asked who was the most responsible kid in town, and my name kept coming up.”

“Well now. That's something.”

“It's perfectly safe, Mrs. McFee.”

Mama walked over to Lester, who was tending his tomato patch. They talked a few minutes. Mama came back. I couldn't read her face.

“I'll say yes under one
very specific condition
.”

I held my breath.

Mama grinned. “Remember
everything
—how her house looks, what she's wearing, and everything she says! ”

Mama and I stayed up late talking about Miss Charleena's movies and how she was one of those actors who could disappear into any part she was playing.

“How do you think I should be around her?” I asked.

“Be yourself. Remember, she puts her pants on one leg at a time, just like you.”

I was trying to remember that the next morning as Macon and I made the final chug up Marigold Hill to Miss Charleena's house.

“Some people think she's kind of into herself and doesn't care about other people,” Macon explained. “This is totally wrong, Foster. She's known a lot of sorrow. Last month, she thought she was dying.”

“Of what?”

“Something mysterious.”

We walked up a gravel path to a huge gray house. It had a white painted porch with white furniture, and hanging plants were everywhere. Each window had white shutters, but you couldn't see inside. All the curtains were closed.

“Miss Charleena's not too happy about her view.” Macon pointed to the prison below. “That's why she built that big fence.”

It was the tallest fence I'd ever seen.

We walked down a stone path, past a garden with blue flowers. Next to it was another garden with yellow flowers, and across from that was a garden filled with pink roses. I could definitely live here.

“Miss Charleena doesn't like different flowers mixed up together. She likes everything a certain way. It's really important that you don't do anything wrong, Foster.”

That got me nervous. “Like what?”

He took out a ring of keys and headed to the back door. “Miss Charleena doesn't like anyone tracking a mess through her house, so you've got to take off your shoes.”

If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come with holes in my socks. I took my shoes off, tried to twist my socks so my toes didn't show through. Macon shook his head. “Miss Charleena won't like seeing your toes.”

“Maybe she can just look up.”

Macon seemed pained. We headed through a screened-in porch past fancy white furniture with pink and green pillows. It's hard to walk regular when your socks are twisted. I picked up one of the pillows. It was so soft. I thought about Daddy's pillowcase.

“Don't go touching things. Miss Charleena doesn't like that.”

I put the pillow back as two little white dogs ran through a doggy door and out into the yard.

“That's Tracy and Hepburn,” Macon said. “Don't pet them if your hands aren't clean. Miss Charleena doesn't like that.” He whispered. “Sometimes she changes her mind about what she likes.”

“Then how will I know?”

“You won't know, Foster! That's why you have to be really careful! I'm trying to give you the basics of how not to mess up.”

I nodded.

He opened the back door. “Don't yell in the house, don't slam the door, and do not ever open the curtains. Miss Charleena really doesn't like that.”

I groaned. “Is there anything she
does
like?”

“Well, that depends,” said a low, Southern voice that gave me the shivers.

A tall, beautiful woman wearing a long white shirt, blue jeans, and dangling jewel earrings stepped forward. “So far, darlin', I'm not too impressed with you.”