Modelland (54 page)

And then they heard them: the calming, soothing undulations of the unseen voices chanting “Ooh” and “Ahh.” Tookie glanced at her friends. The BellaDonna had ordered them to the OoAh?

“Guess Madame BellaDonna needed her butt waxed before her big 7Seven speech,” Ci~L said, smirking.

They walked into the spa lobby. It was much more humid than when Tookie had been there. Purplish light spilled into the hall. The check-in desk was unoccupied, and a serene tableau was reflected on the walls. A cobblestone street, church towers, a burgeoning butcher shop, a cobbler’s shop, and a spinning windmill surrounded them. The sound of church bells reverberated so loudly that Tookie felt they were suddenly trapped in a belfry.

“Quaint,” Piper murmured, looking around.

“It like village in Labrian fairy tale!” Shiraz whispered. She reached out to touch a jolly white-bearded man with droplets of sweat on his brow, but her fingers slipped through his transparent image. There was no one else in the room.

“BellaDonna?” Creamy called out. “Where are you? This place has you written all over it!”

“It
does
?” Tookie whispered. Ci~L caught her eye and shrugged.

“BellaDonna?” Creamy roared again. “I swear to God, woman, if you don’t answer me, I’ll—”

“In here,” a voice boomed, and everyone jumped.

A gauzy curtain materialized in the corner. Persimmon stepped through it, her hands clasped at her waist. As soon as Creamy saw her, she let out a gasp. “Good Lord, what is
that
?”

“She’s naked and has black eye-whities, Creamy,” Myrracle said fearfully.

Tookie nudged her. “That’s Persimmon. A Mannecant. Myrracle, have some respect.”

“More like
Persecution
,” Creamy muttered. Persimmon flinched slightly.

Then Persimmon gestured to the curtain. “I will lead you to see the BellaDonna now. But let me run down the rules first. No touching of the BellaDonna. No getting too close. No incessant breathing in her presence.”

Piper nudged Tookie. “We’re going to actually
see
the BellaDonna?”

“Like, all up in the
flesh
and everything?” Dylan said, her eyes wide as saucers.

Persimmon listed the last of the rules. “Only speak when spoken to. If in doubt, remain silent.”

“Oh,
puh-lease!
” Creamy exploded, pushing past Persimmon and bursting through the curtain.

Everyone followed her inside. Tookie held her breath, unsure of what they were about to see, but it was just an empty room. The
walls were blank. There were no cushy chairs, no cashmere walls, no treatment beds. The only thing in the room was a large slate-gray statue of the BellaDonna in the corner.

All at once, as Creamy moved closer, a giant jagged crack appeared on the statue’s shoulder. The crack widened, snaking all the way to the BellaDonna’s belly button. The rocky exterior rumbled, as if stricken by a tiny self-contained earthquake, and an enormous chunk of the shoulder and torso broke off and smashed into a hundred pieces on the ground.

Everyone jumped back. Myrracle shrieked. Tookie clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Ooh, you broke it,” Dylan murmured under her breath to Creamy. “And as we say at the Bou-Big-Tique Nation: you bou-break it, you bou-buy it, baby.”

Another chunk fell off the statue. Its right bicep crumbled, then an elbow, then the stone that formed the BellaDonna’s sinewy fingers. But there was something
inside
the statue’s stony interior, something the crumbling rock was slowly revealing. Five human fingers emerged from their slate shell. A thin rose-gold sleeve, made of the finest silk, appeared next. Then a swanlike neck and a pair of round, pert breasts.

Flesh, bone, a
person
was under there.

And then the person began to move. The fingers on the right hand twitched. The chest heaved in and out. Its feet, which were clad in sharp seven-inch-high stilettos, tapped.

Everyone, even Creamy, stared as more and more pieces from the sculpture tumbled to the ground. Finally, the entire statue had chipped away except for one large piece of stone over the face.

“How dare …,” a muffled voice said from behind the stone.

Tookie glanced at the others. It was definitely the BellaDonna’s voice. They were actually going to see her.
In the flesh
.

“… you demand to see …,” the BellaDonna went on.

Tookie, her friends, Myrracle, and even Creamy took one step backward, holding their breath.
This is it
, Tookie thought.
Here it comes
.

“… me!”
the BellaDonna boomed.

The BellaDonna’s stone mask fell to the floor and shattered.

“Oooh,” all the Unicas said at once.

“Boooo …,” the BellaDonna answered, like a seductive ghost.

“A humor of sense, she has,” murmured Shiraz.

A heavenly glow emanated from the BellaDonna, as though she was not a human but a goddess. Her hair was wild and black and fell past her waist. Her skin was olive, her cheekbones high, her lips defined. And her eyes … the darkest coal-black irises Tookie had ever seen. The expression on her face was one of utter poise but also extreme annoyance.

She was beyond striking. Possessing a divine, otherworldly type of beauty.

Shiraz dropped to her knees, and the rest of the girls followed.

“Supernatural!” Piper blurted out reverently.

“Dang, am I seeing things? Did her dress just up and change up on me?” Dylan whispered.

The BellaDonna’s dress had quickly morphed from metallic rose-gold ruffles to a kaleidoscopic snakeskin frock with thousands of pleats. The shape-shifting dress finally settled into a dramatic black floor-length gown with sharp spikes around the high-necked collar. Every so often, the spikes writhed and twisted, alive.

Ci~L whispered, “She’s a fashion dictator. Her clothes shift, and the world’s fashion trends follow. I’ll bet my Ci~L–face money that tomorrow, spike-dresses will be all the friggin’ rage.”

“Shh!”
Persimmon hissed, giving Ci~L a swift kick in the side with her pointy-toed boot. “Speak only when spoken to! And if you don’t have anything worthwhile to say, say nothing!”

The BellaDonna stared—or actually,
squinted
—at Creamy, almost like she couldn’t quite see her very well at first. Then her forehead crinkled in a scowl. “This is not happening. This creature has not invaded my chambers on such an important day.”

Creamy bristled. “I’m not afraid of you, Rock-Wench.”

“You know,” Ci~L murmured to Tookie, “I kinda like that mother of yours. She speaks my language.”

“You can have her,” Tookie murmured. Her heart was pounding wildly. What was the BellaDonna going to do to Creamy? She’d overheard what the BellaDonna did to Ci~L, and was sure that the “Rock-Wench” was capable of worse. “Creamy, maybe we should go,” she whispered to her mother.

A bemused smile crept onto the BellaDonna’s face. “Creamy?
What’s with this
Creamy
nonsense? Is that what you’re making your children call you? If I am seeing what I
think
am, you are a far cry from creamy.
Clumpy
is more like it. Or
Craggy.
”

“At least my soul isn’t rotten,” Creamy shot back. Then she turned to the group. “Listen up, everybody, there’s a rumor going around that the BellaDonna’s soul is as filthy as a truck-stop urinal. Word has it that she traded it away.”

“No, I can’t say I had any idea.” Ci~L moved closer to Creamy, intrigued and amused. “And how did she sell her soul, if I may ask?”

Creamy’s eyes gleamed. “Well, she—”

“Silence!” the BellaDonna roared. “I’m supposed to be changing lives right now! Making the grand decisions that keep the world as we know it running smoothly!” Then she snapped her fingers and stared at the bare walls. “Environment, STADIUM!”

With a whoosh, the majestic grandstands of the stadium appeared on the walls. The BellaDonna walked up to them until she was about an inch away, taking in the scene. The stage was a half-moon of pure gold, and the various challenges for the obstacle course were set up and waiting. The 7Seven upperclassBellas stood in a nervous huddle in the wings, many of them holding hands and chanting calming prayers.

The Bored filed in and sat on the tic-tac-toe risers Tookie had seen in the M building. Only the middle square, the BellaDonna’s seat, remained empty. The Bored glanced at it with alarm, perhaps worried that she hadn’t yet appeared. Gunnero eyed the middle seat as if he wanted to be in it.

The brand-new sparkling seats were filled to capacity with staff, Bestosteros, and civilians. Hovering above were special
skyboxes for every living Intoxibella. Tookie spotted Katoocha from last year’s ceremony waving to the crowd. Sinndeesi had Bestosteros waiting on her hand and foot. Dalmah, one of the most amazing catwalkers of all time, walked in place regally for the crowd. Then Tookie noticed a skinny Intoxibella popping pills and offering some to the Intoxibella to her left. She looked like she hadn’t slept for weeks.
Is that Fiona from Catwalk Corridor?
she wondered. It was!
She must have gotten out for good behavior
. But it appeared she’d be sent back soon.

The Modelland Bellas filled the floor section of the stadium. Zarpessa and Chaste lounged in the back rows, whispering, and Kamalini bopped her head from side to side, listening to her Headbangor. Filing in through the side entrances of the stadium were dozens of acrobats and exotic jungle cats, lending a circuslike atmosphere.

“Can they really not see us?” Piper whispered, tiptoeing over to the seats and waving her hand through Zarpessa’s transparent hologram. She stuck out her forefinger and thumb and mimicked crushing Chaste’s and Zarpessa’s heads. And in an uncharacteristic way, she said, “Take that, bitches! Who’s translucent now?”

Dylan sidled up next to Piper, lifted her train, and pulled aside her leotard, baring her butt. She wiggled it at the girls. “This is for you, ladies! Some Bou-Big-Tique booty!”

“Behave!” Persimmon hissed, pulling both girls away. “You are in the presence of the BellaDonna!”

But the BellaDonna was unaware of the Unica Bella hijinks. Her eyes were darting back and forth from the stadium to Creamy.

Creamy tucked Bellissima under her arm, marched over, and yanked Tookie’s hand. “Look, BellaDumba, since you have to greet your adoring public, I’ll make this short and sweet. She”—Creamy
jabbed a finger at Tookie—“doesn’t belong here. My Myrracle does.”

“What?” Shiraz blurted out from the sidelines. “Tookie do too belong here!”

“Silence!” Persimmon snapped, kicking Shiraz.

The BellaDonna launched herself forward and groped for Tookie’s other arm. She missed, but then she grabbed hold. “Excuse me? No mistakes were made on The Day of Discovery.”

Tookie glanced nervously at Ci~L, knowing the truth. But Ci~L just shook her head and made a
zip it
motion across her lips.

“You lying stone-faced woman!” Creamy gripped Tookie’s wrist hard and pulled. It felt like rope burn. “I know why you did this. You’re still bitter after all these years. You’re still holding a ridiculous grudge.”

With another tug, Tookie went stumbling back to the BellaDonna. “You’re right! My heart has never healed and never will,” she said cryptically. “But revenge is so sweet. My bringing Tookie here instead of Myrracle made you catch the Pilgrim Plague—and that tastes so good to me. But yuck, you survived the journey.”

Creamy pulled Tookie back so hard, Tookie felt like her insides were going to split open. Suddenly, Creamy’s gaze landed on Myrracle, who was watching the 7Seven stadium preshow dance number with amazement. Her toes tapped to the music. Her arms wiggled and her head bobbed. Dust and soot flew off her body like she was a rug that had just been shaken out.

“Myrracle!” Creamy shrieked, and slapped Myrracle across the face.

“Owie, Creamy!”

“Then stop that damn devil dancing! This is our
life
! Our
chance
! And I refuse to let you just prance it away!”

Myrracle fought hard to not cry. Her cheek bore an exact imprint of her mother’s hand and ring on it. “But it looks
funner
out there than it is in here with … you.”

A vessel in Creamy’s forehead bulged. “I trekked up this damn mountain and almost died for
you
! Do you even
know
what that was like?”

Myrracle stared, slack-jawed, at her mother. “Of course I know what it was like, Creamy,” she said in a voice that sounded lucid—almost intelligent. “I was
there.
” And then, before anyone could stop her, she ran out of the room.

“Myrracle!” Creamy screamed. “Come back here now!”

But Myrracle was gone.

Creamy clamped her mouth shut, looking flustered and bewildered. Clearly, this
wasn’t
part of the plan. “Well, at least she’ll be in the stadium, surrounded by other Bellas, where she belongs!” She whipped around and transferred all her aggression to the five fingers that still held tightly to Tookie’s arm, squeezing so hard that Tookie let out a small, pained
eep
. “Now make it official,” she said to the BellaDonna. “Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll tell them.” Creamy’s eyes glimmered darkly.

“What are you two
talking
about?” Tookie cried, caught between them. “Tell us
what?
What are you both hiding?”

The BellaDonna snickered. “I have no idea what your mother is talking about, Tookie. But there are two things I
do
know.
Uno:
your mother is evil.
Y dos:
she doesn’t really care about you. All she cares about is
herself
. And maybe that bizarre baby doll she’s carrying around.”

“That shows how blind you
really
are,” Creamy snapped. “Bellissima is beautiful, not bizarre!” Then she moved her face
close to Tookie’s and put her cruddy hand on Tookie’s cheek. It was sweet and terrifying at the same time. “As for what I’ve never told you, Tookie, it’s all in the past, dear—the ancient past. And you know
ancient
isn’t my thing. Plus, it doesn’t concern you.”