Me and Fat Glenda (11 page)

“So how do you expect to borrow the wig for Halloween?”

“Oh, don't worry,” Glenda singsonged. “I will.” She peered past me trying to see into the living room through the glass panes alongside the front door. “Is Toby home? I thought maybe he could give me his opinion on my costume. Do you realize it's only nine days to Halloween and you don't even have your costume decided yet? You are coming trick-or-treating with me, aren't you? I mean you've just got to, Sara. Friends always do.”

I shivered. “It's cold out here. Come on inside, Glenda. Toby's here. So are Inez and Drew.” She hung back a little. I knew she always felt shy and out of place with Mom and Pop even though she was always saying how much she really liked them. Well, I couldn't blame her for that. They certainly were different from the kinds of grown-ups Glenda was used to.

When we got inside, the living room was empty. Toby had gone up to his room, Drew was busy doing something in the den, and Inez had just gone into her workroom, which had big sliding wooden doors and was supposed to be used as a dining room.

So I had to take Glenda up to Toby's turret room again and this time I didn't see how he could help noticing her.

Well, we got up there and I pushed Glenda into the open doorway of Toby's room and he noticed her all right. He jerked his head up from some stuff he was writing and said, “My God, what's
that
?”

Glenda blushed awfully.

“No, wait a minute. Don't tell me. Let me guess.”

Even though she was getting redder and redder, I could tell Glenda was enjoying this.

Toby went through all sorts of beginning guesses like, “it's . . . uh . . . oh no. No, it isn't that at all. It's . . . ah . . . no, it isn't really that either. Well, I would say that what it really is . . . is . . . is . . .” Glenda turned around for him, making a full circle. But that didn't seem to help.

“What's that black thing you're carrying?” Toby wanted to know.

“Oh that's my rain cape. I wore it to come over here. It covers the whole thing. Even my head.”

“Good,” Toby said, half-seriously. “Tell you what. Why don't you just put that on and we'll all try to forget the whole thing.”

“Oh come on, Toby,” I said. “You're not being at all nice. This is Glenda's Halloween costume. She came over to show it to you. To get your opinion.”

“Halloween? My opinion? Oh, come on girls. I'm kind of busy here.”

‘1 know you are. But just say at least what you think of it”

“Well . . . it's okay, I guess. For Halloween.”

Toby really looked into Glenda's face for the first time. “Who are you supposed to be anyway?”

Glenda began to turn hot pink again but she looked straight at him.

“Snow White.”

“I see,” Toby said. “That's very good. A fine choice of costume.” He turned back to his writing and picked up his pencil. “And a very happy Halloween to you both.”

It was pretty clear that Toby expected us to leave. But to my surprise Glenda stepped forward.

“It's nine days yet to Halloween, and Sara doesn't even know what her costume's going to be yet.” She turned to me. “Do you, Sara?” I shook my head no. “But anyhow,” Glenda went on, inclining her head toward Toby, “I wanted to ask you if you would come trick-or-treating with Sara and me on Halloween.”

I was almost as surprised at Glenda's request as Toby was. He stared at her, open-mouthed, pointing to his chest with one finger, as if to say, “Me? Are you crazy?”

Glenda took a few more steps toward Toby's desk.

“See, let me explain. You could protect us. All the kids around here—except the real little ones—wait until after dark before they start trick-or-treating or collecting for UNICEF. They all wear masks and sometimes they play tricks on one another and it can get pretty rough. Last year a girl got sprayed with green paint. And a lot
of the kids throw eggs. You wouldn't have to wear a costume or even a mask unless you wanted to. You could just wait for us out on the sidewalk and walk us from house to house.”

Toby raised his eyebrows. “Do you mean to say that you two are going to spend a whole evening going from house to house, ringing doorbells and yelling out ‘trick or treat,' and collecting a whole lot of junky candy to eat? Aren't you both a little old for that?”

“No, we're not, Toby,” I said, deciding it was time I helped Glenda out. “All the kids our age around here do it. Come on, Toby. Please say you'll come along with us. Even if you think it's nutty, it's the kind of thing big brothers are supposed to do. Say yes.”

Toby scratched his head.

“Please?”

“How's about if I say ‘maybe?' ”

“How's about if you say ‘maybe yes?' ”

Toby nodded. “Okay. ‘Maybe yes.' But remind me about it again a couple of days before, huh?”

Glenda squealed and grabbed me by the shoulders. She was so happy she said why didn't I come over to her house right now and we could talk about my costume and have Q-burgers and hot chocolates. Her mother and father were both out for the evening and she had to get back and put her mother's wig away, and also the silver shoes and rhinestone belt, before her mother got home.
It took a few more days but at last I had a great idea for a costume to wear on Halloween. It all came about because Glenda's mother had so many white bedsheets that she didn't want anymore. Mrs. Waite had just bought all new colored sheets for the beds to match the color schemes in her newly redecorated bedrooms.

It wasn't easy to think of something to do with white bedsheets that wouldn't be ordinary. Anybody could be a ghost or even a white witch. When I finally thought of what I would be, it was so simple.

I'd be the Statue of Liberty. I'd carry a flashlight for a Statue of Liberty torch (it would come in handy getting up the steps of some of the houses with lots of dark shrubbery where the people didn't leave porch lights on) and I'd make a crown out of cardboard, with spikes coming out of it in a sunburst pattern.

A couple of nights before Halloween, while I was in the middle of working on my Statue of Liberty crown, I got a telephone call. It turned out to be Mary Lou Blenheim.

Mary Lou was still going home for lunch every day but I saw her in classes and sometimes she phoned me about the history homework. We were only a little friendly because Glenda was around me so much of the time and stuck so close that I didn't really have a chance to talk much with any of the other kids—which was, of
course, the way Glenda wanted it

I thought Mary Lou's voice sounded funny, different from when she called about a homework assignment

“Are you alone, Sara?”

I looked around me. “What do you mean, alone? My mother and father are around here somewhere, and my brother's upstairs in his turret . . . uh, in his room.”

“Huh?”

“In his
room
.”

“Oh, well that's okay I guess. I really meant do you have any friends there with you?”

“Like who?”

“Oh . . .” Mary Lou hesitated, “like Glenda Waite. Well I
know
she lives next door to you.”

“Not
right
next door,” I corrected her. “Anyhow she's not here. Why?”

“Well,” Mary Lou lowered her voice. “Some of the kids got together and we decided to have a party on Halloween. After trick-or-treating. It isn't going to be at my house because of my grandmother being sick and staying with us. It's going to be at Roddy Fenton's.”

Mary Lou paused as if she was waiting for it all to sink in.

“Hmmm,” was all I could think of to say.

“Yes, that's right,” Mary Lou went on. “Roddy has a big finished basement at his house. Well, anyhow, what he said I should ask you is could you come to the
party? It's going to start about 9:30. After we trick-or-treat. There's no school the next day, but you can tell your mother the party will end about 11:30.”

I knew Mary Lou was waiting for an answer but instead I couldn't help saying, “I didn't know you and Roddy were such good friends.”

“Oh,
that
,” Mary Lou said. “Sometimes we're not. Sometimes I could just kill him. Like I told you, he's tricky. He does lots of pranks. But we go around in the same crowd. More or less. And anyhow parties are fun. Can you come?”

“By the way,” I said, still not answering Mary Lou's question, “did you ever find out who put that chicken-foot sandwich in your lunch bag, Mary Lou?”

“Eeek! How can you even mention that! Wasn't it
horrible
?”

“Yes, but did you ever find out who did it?”

Mary Lou giggled softly. “Oh, Roddy finally confessed to me that he did. Just for a prank. Because I was hanging around with you and you were a friend of . . . well, you know, of Glenda's.”

What a relief! At last I knew it wasn't Glenda after all. Right away I felt guilty, thinking how I'd been suspecting her and not really trusting her all along. I could have kissed Mary Lou, I was so happy to hear it was Roddy.

“But aren't you even angry at him, Mary Lou?”

“Well, he explained about it. He didn't really mean it as a prank against me. He had certain reasons. But then Roddy does all sorts of pranks all the time, so you can't really take it too seriously. He's like that.”

An idea came to me. “Does he leave dead cats around, too?”

“Dead cats?” Mary Lou sounded vague.

“Yes. Dead cats. Does he ever leave them around for a prank?”

“Well, actually,” Mary Lou drawled, “now that you mention it, I heard he did that once, too. Isn't he just awful?”

I let out a sigh.

“Oh, he didn't kill it, mind you. He found it somewhere, run over by a car, I think. Still, I don't know how he could
bear
to pick the thing up. So listen, Sara, you still didn't say . . .”

“Mary Lou,” I said hotly, “you're asking me to go to a party on Halloween and you know very well that Glenda is my friend and she and I are planning to go trick-or-treating together. In costumes and everything. We've got it all planned . . .”

“Well, I know. But this is
after
.”

“And Glenda isn't invited?”

“No,” Mary Lou said softly, “she isn't.” Neither of us said anything for a moment. “Well, it's at Roddy's house like I told you. For myself, I wouldn't care all that much . . .”

“Never mind explaining, Mary Lou. Because if I were Glenda, I wouldn't go to that party even if Roddy got down on his knees and begged me. After all the rotten things he's done to her . . .”

“Hold on a minute,” Mary Lou said, getting a little ruffled. “What about the rotten things Glenda did to Roddy?”

“Like what?”

“Well, I heard some things. But I really don't think I should talk about it. It's none of my affair. It would be up to Roddy. Look, Sara, why don't I have Roddy phone you? It's all getting to be too much for me to puzzle out.”

“He doesn't have to,” I snapped. “If he had his reasons for not inviting her, he shouldn't have invited me either. It's just another way of hurting Glenda. He knows we're friends and I can't go without her. I'd be leaving her flat.”

After I hung up I was so mixed up I couldn't think. Because in a way I would have liked to go to Roddy's party, even though I was furious at him now that I knew he had gone to such lengths to get Glenda in trouble. You see, I was beginning to realize I
could
have other friends in Havenhurst if it weren't for Glenda.

But the very next minute I was angry at myself for thinking that way. Glenda was a true friend, and she deserved my loyalty. I'd be ashamed to ever tell her about
how I'd suspected her. But why did Roddy want to get Glenda into trouble? What had Glenda done to him?

Nobody wanted to talk about it. It was beginning to look as though I'd never find out. And Glenda and I would just go on together, keeping to ourselves and being . . . what was it Roddy had called us? . . . a freaky pair!

P.S. I guess you think its impossible to invent an alphabet-burger starting with Q
.

Not really. Although it's next to impossible. But Glenda and I did it. Quack-burgers. Chinese duck sauce (the kind you put on barbecued spareribs) smeared on top of the hamburgers instead of ketchup. Very good
.

S.M
.

10

The day of Halloween was just perfect. Not a California Halloween, with flowering shrubs and palm trees on people's front lawns, but a real honest-to-goodness witches' Halloween with dry, crackling brown leaves all over the ground and just a few red and gold and yellow leaves still hanging on for dear life to the crooked black branches overhead. It was chilly out, too, with a swooshing wind that got stronger toward afternoon.

That morning at school, though, I had a shock. Mary Lou Blenheim passed me a note in homeroom. When the piece of folded paper reached me, I looked up and saw Mary Lou nodding her head to let me know it was from her and I should go ahead and read it. I immediately looked around for Glenda and saw that she was at the back of the room, tacking up some posters that Miss Ames, our teacher, had given her to put up.