Ramona's World (4 page)

“Quick!” directed Daisy. “Before he gets back.” She seized the remote control and switched the television from the sports channel to
Big Hospital
. “Pretend we've been watching it all along.” The girls settled themselves on the couch and tried to look as if they had been there for some time. When Jeremy returned, Daisy looked up from the screen and, pretending to be surprised to see her brother, said, “Oh, hi, Jeremy.”

“Okay, Fence Face, you win,” said Jeremy, and went thumping up the stairs to his room. Mutley flattened himself, his nose on his paws, in front of the television set. When Daisy was sure the coast was clear and the girls had suppressed their giggles, she went to the refrigerator for a second helping of juice bars.

Ramona and Daisy contentedly licked their juice bars as they watched Handsome Doctor and Blond Nurse and a number of other people in green pajamas save the life of a little boy who had been hit by a car while playing in the street. His weeping mother, holding the ball he had been chasing, watched through a window on the swinging door.

Ramona's thoughts strayed from the hospital to Daisy, her house, and her family. Everything seemed so calm and so comfortable. Even Clawed and Mutley liked each other. Ramona wished she had a big brother who teased her a little bit. On the television Not-quite-so-handsome Doctor who was secretly married to Blond Nurse joined the mother to watch through the window in the swinging door, but Ramona was thinking about Daisy.

Ramona had never had a girl best friend, only Howie, and now that they were in the fourth grade they did not play together as often as they used to. Howie was always banging around with a hammer, building things. Ramona used to enjoy this, too, but lately, as her mother said, she was at loose ends. She was tired of pounding nails with Howie. She wasn't bored exactly. She could always find something to do, but lately something was missing from her life. She wished she were old enough to baby-sit like Beezus, who was busy every weekend. Now she knew what had been missing—a best friend, a girl best friend.

Big Hospital
and Ramona's thoughts were interrupted by a commercial for pills to cure aches and pains followed by another for a spray to relieve stuffy noses. Neither girl was interested.

“Let's be best friends.” Daisy spoke suddenly, as if she had just thought of it.

“That's what I was thinking.” Ramona, who did not usually feel shy, reached out to pet Mutley with her foot.

“I've been sort of—lonesome, I guess you'd call it—starting a new school,” confided Daisy.

“I've always wanted a best friend,” Ramona admitted. “My neighborhood is mostly boys. They're okay, but—well, you know.”

“I know,” agreed Daisy. “Boys can be pretty awful, like Danny on the playground.”

Ramona was silent. Yard Ape never did anything bad. He was just smart and lively and liked to tease. She did not want anyone, not even her best friend, to know how much she liked him.

The girls watched television in contented silence. Men in green pajamas ran down the hall wheeling a woman groaning in pain. Her faithful dog followed. “Get that dog out of here!” shouted Handsome Doctor. Mutley looked up, startled, saw he wasn't threatened, and laid his nose on his paws again.

Ramona and Daisy smothered their giggles over Mutley's confusion. A spicy fragrance came from the kitchen. Ramona hoped it meant they would have lasagna for dinner. Lasagna would make her day perfect. She couldn't wait to tell her family all about it. Her thoughts drifted to what she would say: Daisy's mother lets her have juice bars after school, Daisy has a big brother who calls her Fence Face, Daisy vacuums the cat. . . . Now Beezus wasn't the only one with a best friend to talk about. Ramona hoped she could be Daisy's best friend forever.

O
ne chilly day late in October when rain was beginning to clog the gutters with leaves, Ramona came home alone because it was Daisy's day to see her orthodontist to have the bands on her teeth adjusted. She found her mother sitting on the chair holding Roberta to her shoulder and patting her on the back. An almost empty bottle of formula stood on the lamp table. As Ramona pulled off her raincoat, she inspected a small bald spot on the back of Roberta's head, which at first had frightened Ramona because she thought Roberta was going bald like their father. Mrs. Quimby had explained that many babies wore off their first hair and that it would soon grow back. And it was, to Ramona's relief.

With her inspection out of the way, Ramona said, as if she were making an important announcement, “Boys are just awful.”

“How so?” asked her mother as she patted the baby's back.

“A couple of girls wore knit caps—their mothers made them wear them—and the boys grabbed them and threw them into the boys' bathroom.” Boys, at this moment, were very much disapproved of by Ramona, who promised herself she would never, never wear a knit cap to school.

“All boys?” Mrs. Quimby had the look of someone trying to hide a smile. “I can't imagine Howie doing such a dreadful thing.”

“Well, maybe not Howie.” Ramona backed down but soon flared up again. “Mother,” she said sternly. “It is not funny. Boys are just awful.”

“If you say so, dear” was Mrs. Quimby's mild answer. “How was spelling?”

Ramona was a tiny bit annoyed with her mother for not getting upset over the awfulness of boys and for bringing up spelling. “I missed one word,
project
. I spelled it
p-r-o-d-j-e-c-t
, which is the way it sounds.”

Discussion of Ramona's spelling came to an end because Beezus returned from school, dumped her armload of books on a chair, waved an envelope, obviously happy with whatever was in it, and said without bothering to take off her rain jacket, “Guess what?”

“I can't imagine,” said Mrs. Quimby.

“You won a million dollars,” said Ramona, glad to forget her spelling.

“No, silly. Abby is giving a party two weeks from tomorrow. She passed out the invitations today.”

“That's nice.” Mrs. Quimby was still patting Roberta's back. “I don't think I know where Abby lives.”

“In one of those nice big houses the other side of high school,” Beezus explained.

“Will her parents be home?” asked Mrs. Quimby.

“Oh,
Mom
!” Beezus was annoyed even though she was used to her mother's concern. “Yes, they will be home and all that stuff. I asked because I know how old-fashioned you are.”

Mrs. Quimby said, “Funny, I used to think my parents were old-fashioned, too.”

Stuff
, thought Ramona. Beezus said “stuff” and Mother didn't say anything. Then, to avoid arguments between her mother and sister, she said, “I hope you don't have to play pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.”

“Of course not, silly. That's a game for little kids.” Beezus spoke as if Ramona were still in kindergarten. “Abby is inviting boys and we're going to dance!”

“Wow!” said Ramona. “But you don't know how to dance.”

Beezus seemed to wilt. At that moment Roberta startled them with a noise, the sort of noise Mrs. Quimby called a bubble, Beezus and Ramona called a burp, and Mr. Quimby, when he was being funny, a belch, a word his daughters disapproved of because it sounded too ugly for such a sweet baby.

“Good girl,” crooned Mrs. Quimby. Roberta's sisters paid no attention. By now they were used to Roberta.

“How can you dance if you don't know how?” persisted Ramona.

“That's what's bothering me,” admitted Beezus. “Abby's mother made her take ballroom dancing lessons to help her be popular, and now she's giving this party to get her going on being popular. Maybe Abby can show me.”

“Dancing can't be that hard.” Ramona tried to cheer Beezus. “I've seen it on TV. Kids just sort of wiggle around and wave their arms.”

“Don't worry. Your father will show you how,” reassured Mrs. Quimby.

Ramona thought about Howie and Yard Ape. She could not imagine them dancing.

After the party invitation, telephone calls that were not about baby-sitting began to come for Beezus. Of course, Ramona listened to Beezus's half of the conversations, which involved which boys were invited, which boys might actually come, what to wear, and who said what to whose locker partner in the hall at school. Ramona wished she had a locker at school instead of a coat hook at the back of the classroom. Beezus even got to have a padlock on her locker.

On Saturday afternoon Beezus took her baby-sitting money out of the mug on her study table and in spite of drizzling rain set off to meet some friends at the shopping center. “
Au revoir
,” she said as she went out the door.

Ramona was annoyed with her sister for not speaking plain English and for not asking her to come along. She tried to pass the time reading Mother Goose rhymes to Roberta, because their mother had read a book that said babies should be read to as soon as they were born so they would grow up to be good readers. Ramona wasn't sure how this would work, but she enjoyed the rhymes and read with expression and dramatic gestures. Roberta seemed fascinated, especially with “The Three Little Kittens,” which Ramona recited over and over until the baby fell asleep and Mrs. Quimby carried her off to her crib.

Not as much time had passed as Ramona hoped. Late in the day, when Mrs. Quimby was still trying to finish
Moby Dick
, Beezus came home carrying a plastic shopping bag and wearing a head scarf tied under her chin.

That's funny, thought Ramona. Beezus always said head scarves were for old ladies or the Queen of England.

“Successful shopping trip?” Mrs. Quimby barely raised her eyes from her book. The book club meeting was not far away.

“Mm-hm.” Beezus beckoned Ramona into their room and shut the door.

“Why are you wearing that dumb scarf?” Ramona demanded. “It isn't that wet outside.”

“Sh-h-h.” Beezus looked worried. “What am I going to say?” she whispered.

“About what?” asked Ramona.

“My ears.” Beezus pulled off her scarf. She was wearing a tiny gold ball in the lobe of each ear.

Ramona was so surprised it took her a moment before she whispered, “Earrings! What will Mommy and Daddy say?”

“That's what's bothering me.” Beezus carefully felt her ears as if to make sure her earrings were still there.

“Well . . .” Ramona was dubious. “I'm glad they're your ears, not mine.” Then, because she really wanted to know, she asked, “Did it hurt a lot?”

“Just for a minute, but it was scary,” admitted Beezus. “They shoot the earrings into your lobes with a thing that looks like a staple gun.”

Ramona winced as Beezus picked up her hairbrush and tried to brush her hair over her ears. At the same time she admired her sister's courage. “Why don't you show Mother and get it over before Daddy comes home.” Ramona was eager to find out what would happen. Besides, she couldn't wait to tell Daisy what Beezus had done.

When the girls advanced cautiously into the living room, Mrs. Quimby glanced up from her book, took a second look, and laid the book down. “Why, Beezus—” she said.

Ramona, ashamed of her curiosity, tried to help her sister. “Some girls in kindergarten have their ears pierced. I've even seen babies with teeny little earrings.”

Mrs. Quimby paid no attention to Ramona but said, “Beezus, why didn't you ask?”

Beezus looked both unhappy and defiant. “They are my ears, and I used my baby-sitting money. If I asked, you might not let me.”

“Yes, but—” began Mrs. Quimby.

Beezus interrupted. “I'm tired of being plain old responsible Beezus. I'm tired of people saying how sensible I am. I want to be glamorous for a change. People are always asking me to do things because they know I will do them right. Well, I want to wear earrings and lipstick and be somebody different. I want to look nice for the party. I want to have fun!”

Ramona was shocked. She had never heard her sister speak this way in her whole life.

“Oh, Beezus—” Mrs. Quimby had tears in her eyes. “I had no idea— You always seemed so contented.”