The Secret Life of a Funny Girl (9 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lightly, hesitantly, i knock on the music room door.

“Maybe I should go.” Debbie chews her bottom lip, looks around.

“Leave me here by myself? Forget it!”

“But this is your apology, Maureen, not mine!”

“Shhh! She's coming!”

There's a soft scuffing behind the door, then it creaks open wide. “Hello, girls,” says Miss Godwin. She looks at us, curiously. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi, Miss.” Suddenly my heart is pounding so hard I wonder if she can hear it. “Miss Godwin, there's something I'd like to say to you. Is this a good time?”

“Of course. I'm always happy to talk to you, Maureen.” Then she looks at Debbie and lifts her eyebrows.

“Miss, I'm just here with Maureen. If that's okay, I mean.”

“Yes, of course it is, Debbie. Come right in.”

I'm trying hard to get a reading on Miss Godwin here, but I can't quite put my finger on it. She's being kind and polite, as usual. But there's a little distance too, like she's holding herself back. Like she's trying to figure
us
out.

Debbie and I huddle together by the choir risers as Miss Godwin leans against her wooden desk and folds her hands before her. She looks at us, expectantly. Says nothing.

Yikes!

I cough, clear my throat. “Miss, I'm really sorry about all the fuss I caused in class.” Might as well get right to the point.

“Well, Maureen, I'm glad to hear that.”

Silence.

I squirm, shift my books to the other arm. “Yes, Miss. It was wrong of me to cause all that fuss. I don't know what came over me. I guess maybe I was bored.”

“You were bored? That's your excuse?”

Debbie's foot comes down hard on mine. I take a deep gulp. “Well, not so much bored, Miss, that's probably the wrong word. I'm not sure why I acted that way. But I feel really badly about it now.”

Miss Godwin looks like she's not totally buying this. And for some reason I can't keep my eyes off that bulging pocket on her brown cardigan. Stuffed full of tissues, I bet. Such a weird habit.

“Maureen, to be honest, your behaviour was completely unacceptable.”

“Miss, what Maureen is trying to say is that she feels terrible about the whole thing and will never act that way again.” Thank you, Debbie!

“Yes, Miss, it's true.” I nod my head vigorously. “Never again. I promise.”

“Maureen's mother has been quite sick, Miss. Did you know that? She's still in hospital, isn't she, Maureen?” Debbie locks her two eyes fast upon mine.

Oh, please. Is it necessary to drag Mom into this?

But it's too late. Miss Godwin's face has turned all concerned and worried. “I did hear that.” She steps toward me. Okay, that's close enough. “Has she been in hospital long?”

I sigh. You know, I would really prefer not to do this. “She's been in hospital over a month, Miss. We're hoping she'll be home soon, though.”

I don't say what's wrong with Mom. And Miss Godwin is too much the English lady to ever ask. She just nods her head slowly, sympathetically.

“See, Miss, it's been a hard time for Maureen, her mom in hospital and all that,” adds Debbie. “And she's taking care of Beth-Ann, her little sister. You know Beth-Ann, don't you, Miss?”

“Beth-Ann? Of course I know her. She's a little angel.” She advances a couple more steps. Please, no farther.

“So it's just been a really difficult time for Maureen, Miss. She's under a lot of pressure. You understand, don't you, Miss Godwin?”

Hey, that's enough. Does she have to lay it on so thick?

“Maureen, I'm sorry about your mother. Clearly, this has been an extremely challenging situation for you and your family.” Miss Godwin pulls a large white tissue from her pocket, dabs at her nose, and makes her final move.

Oh no!

Two thin arms wrap around my back, pulling me into her long, flat chest. The wool sweater scratches against my face and I'm smothered by the smell of peppermint. Cripes! Can you believe this?

“Don't you give that behaviour another thought,” says Miss Godwin, patting my back. “I fully accept your apology.”

“I'm sorry too, Miss, about your Mozart record,” I say, in a muffled voice. Might as well get this part in now. “I really didn't mean for it to be ruined. That was awful.”

“Don't you worry about that.” Miss Godwin finally releases me. “That was an accident. The record can easily be replaced.”

I glance over at Debbie, who's staring hard out the window, afraid to look at me for fear of laughing.

“So anyway, Miss, we better get going now.” I step back a bit, straighten up my hair. “But I really wanted to stop by today and let you know that you'll never have to worry about me in class again. I'll be the absolute best student you ever had!”

Debbie's head whips around from the window at this last remark. Okay, that was probably a bit rich, but hey, if you have to apologize you might as well make it a good one.

“I'm sure that you will be.” Miss Godwin's eyes are tender and full of warmth. “And Maureen, I truly hope your mother recovers quickly.”

Debbie and I can't get out of there fast enough.

The door clicks behind us, the two of us scurry down the corridor, then collapse into each other, sputtering and talking at the same time.

“That had to be the most horrible hug of my life!”

“Maureen, I thought I was going to explode!”

“My God, Debbie, all that stuff about Mom? That's the whole reason she hugged me! Did you have to get into all that?”

“Well, I didn't have much choice. You were about to self-destruct. You were
bored?
What sort of an apology is that?”

“I guess I didn't think it through. Good thing you were there or I might be headed back to Sister Marion. I finished up better than I started, didn't I?”

“That's quite a promise you made. ‘The absolute best student' she ever had? Now you're going to have to live up to it. ”

“Just watch me! At least the apology is over with. Debbie, you don't want to know how terrible it was in Sister's office this afternoon. I've never seen her so angry. I would have promised anything to Miss Godwin today just to keep Sister Marion happy.”

We step out into a damp day in May, the drizzle forming droplets in our hair. The parking lot is mostly empty now. All the mothers picking up their kids have already left.

“What about Beth-Ann? Don't you have to get her?”

“Not today. She's invited over to Lisa's house to play and they'll drop her off later. Listen, why don't you come back to Aunt Kay's with me? I know she wouldn't mind.”

“Okay, sure. Why not?”

We giggle and chat as we head across Churchill Park and up the sidewalk by Monty's Delicatessen. A mob of teenagers is milling around the outside. There's rough laughter, some pushing, and thin streams of cigarette smoke curling above the crowd. Debbie and I exchange a nervous look and quietly cross the road. But we're not quick enough.

“Hey, Maureen!” It's Evelyn Coady, standing in the centre of it all, waving her arm at me.

Cripes!

“Hi, Evelyn,” I say, with a limp flick of my hand.

“Come on over!”

Desperately, I turn to Debbie, for support, advice, anything. She looks panic-stricken. “No way!” she whispers. “Are you nuts?”

“I'm not interested, believe me!” I whisper back, my heart beating so hard in my ears I can hardly hear. “Thanks, Evelyn,” I call out, a tremor in my voice. “But we've got to get going.”

“Going where? Don't be so foolish. Come over and have a smoke.”

“Yeah, Maureen. Why don't you and Debbie come on over. Bet you never had a smoke before, did you?” This from Patsy Gallagher, who's pushed herself to the edge of the crowd. By now all the talking and laughing has died away and the entire gang has turned to size us up.

“No, really, thanks, we can't,” I say, feeling the blood rush into my cheeks. “We've got, uh, stuff to do.”

“
Stuff
to do?” repeats Patsy, sneering. “Really. Like what?
Study
?” Then she breaks into a burst of laughter. Instantly the whole crowd joins in.

“This is ridiculous,” hisses Debbie. “Let's just go.”

“Maureen, come on now,” calls out Evelyn in a wheedling voice. “You're hurting my feelings here.”

“You know what I think?” shouts out Patsy, her voice as hard and mean as the searing white sun of a July heat wave. “I think Maureen's on her way out to the Mental! Yeah, that's it. She can't have a smoke with us 'cause she's on her way out to the Mental to visit her crazy mother.”

Oh my God.

The mob behind us hoots and jeers.

“Is that true? Is her mother really crazy?”

“Out at the Mental? Are you serious?”

“Too bad, 'cause she's kind of cute. Wonder if it runs in the family?”

And now Debbie and I are race-walking. Past Giant Mart, around the corner to Rowan Street. “Don't look back,” says Debbie, her voice low and steady. “Don't say a word. Just keep moving.”

My breath is coming so fast, I wonder if I'm going to faint. Beside me, Debbie is steaming mad, eyes blazing straight ahead, one hand on my arm to steady me.

“I have
never
in my life heard anything so ignorant. Who does that Patsy Gallagher think she is? No one has any right to say those things. I am never speaking to that girl again.”

It's all I can do to keep one foot in front of the other, to keep breathing, to keep my two eyes focused as we head down Poplar Avenue toward the safety of Aunt Kay's little bungalow.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“I KNOW SOMETHING'S WRONG. It's written all over your faces. You might as well tell me now and get it over with.”

Aunt Kay is standing by the stove, a yellow-flowered apron protecting her navy dress. There's a flour smudge on her nose from baking chocolate chip cookies and the tiny kitchen is full of the warm, sweet smell.

Debbie and I exchange a worried look, cast our eyes down, like two convicted felons standing before the bench, waiting for the judge to pass down sentence.

“Something's up, that's for sure,” says Aunt Grace, taking a long drag from a cigarette, her beady eyes drilling right through me. “Never saw two guiltier-looking girls in all my life.”

Cripes! Just my luck for Aunt Grace to be here, sitting at the kitchen table like she owns the place. Like I don't have enough to deal with already.

What choice do we have? Between the two of us, we sputter out the story. I know Debbie's outside the family and we're supposed to keep all this to ourselves, but it's too late for that now, isn't it? All the sorry details emerge. The gang of teenagers up outside of Monty's. Patsy Gallagher's vicious remark. The nasty insults of her friends.

Aunt Kay's features slacken and she sits down hard on a kitchen chair. “Dear God,” she says, one hand covering her forehead. “Just when this is nearly over.”

“Who's this Patsy Gallagher, anyway?” Aunt Grace flicks cigarette ash in the ashtray before her. “Why was she calling out to you?”

“She's just a girl in our class, same as Evelyn Coady,” I say, as politely as I can manage. “They're both pretty tough. Debbie and I don't have much to do with them.”

“Well, you must have had something to do with them if they were asking you to have a cigarette.”

I think back to my big performance with Miss Godwin and the record player and Evelyn and Patsy joining in on the action. Obviously, there's no way I'm getting into that. I glance sideways at Debbie. “No, Aunt Grace. We don't have anything to do with Evelyn and Patsy.”

“Really?” she asks, a suspicious look on her face. “Strange, then, that they'd be asking you to smoke. Sure you never did that before? Had a cigarette or two?”

“No!” I shout.

“Grace!” says Aunt Kay, looking appalled.

“Mrs. Abbott,” says Debbie. “Maureen and I have never ever taken a single puff of a cigarette. You don't have to worry about that. We think it's a dirty habit and they say now it's bad for your health.” She looks pointedly at the ashtray before Aunt Grace.

Score one for Debbie! Grace's eyes narrow even more. “Just asking.”

“Grace,” says Aunt Kay. “This is all very much beside the point. How dare those two girls speak to Maureen like that! It's an absolute outrage. I know exactly what I'm going to do. I'm calling Sister Marion myself, let her deal with it.”

“No! Aunt Kay, please don't!” This is all I need. Aunt Kay on the phone to Sister Marion? I don't think so. The whole sorry story about me and Miss Godwin could definitely tumble out and I'd be in the worst trouble of my life. “That'll just make everything worse. Evelyn and Patsy will really have it in for me then.” Which is also very true.

“Maureen, you simply can't allow people to walk over you like that.”

“Can we just leave it alone, please? Everyone seems to know about Mom, anyway. Calling Sister will just draw more attention to the situation.”

Aunt Kay sighs heavily and looks at Grace, who shrugs her shoulders. “Hard to keep anything a secret in this town,” says Grace, butting out her cigarette. Honestly, what a hypocrite.

There's a silence. In the distance we can hear Billy and Bobby whooping it up.

“Hmm, goodness, look at the time. It's after four. Certainly took you girls a while to get here today. I guess if you didn't stop by Monty's then you must have stayed after school. Doing what, I wonder?” It's Aunt Grace, of course, diving in on the time difference, just like a hawk.

What a busybody! Why does she even care? Seems all Aunt Grace wants to do is get me in trouble. What is her problem, anyway? Her question floats in the air like a bubble about to burst.

“Girls?” says Aunt Kay, watching us both.

“We stopped by Miss Godwin's music room after school.” I direct my answer to Aunt Kay, studiously avoiding Aunt Grace's level gaze.

Aunt Kay frowns slightly. “Why would you do that?”

Here's where I'm forced to lie. But I don't see any choice, not with Aunt Grace at the other end of the table, ready to pounce.

“Sister Marion told me Miss Godwin needed help sorting out music sheets and asked if we could give her a hand. So we did.”

“Sister Marion asked you? Why wouldn't Miss Godwin ask you herself?”

“Uh, I think she was, uh, busy.”

“Hmm. Sounds odd. Where did this conversation take place, Maureen?” Aunt Grace has picked up the smell of something rank. Now I feel cornered.

“Sister was asking me about Mom,” I say, still looking at Aunt Kay. “She heard she was sick. So I had to tell her. Then she mentioned about Miss Godwin. So I said Debbie and I would help.”

Almost true. Not a total lie, is it?

“
Sister
heard about your mother?” Aunt Kay is incredulous.

“Aunt Kay, I think everyone knows.”

Aunt Grace's eyes don't leave my face—no way is she letting this drop. “
Where exactly
did you have this conversation with Sister Marion?”

Cripes! “In her office.”

“In her office?”

“It's not exactly the sort of topic you want to bring up in front of a crowd, now is it?” I'm getting quite fed up with this inquisition from Aunt Grace. She's not my mother—she has
no right
to ask all these nosy questions.

“Humph.” Aunt Grace sniffs. “The whole thing sounds a bit strange to me.” She pulls a shapeless coat from the back of her chair. “Anyway, I've got to run. Time to pick up the baby at the sitter's, then get Lloyd at work.”

Good. See you later.

The door shuts behind Grace just as the buzzer sounds on the stove. Aunt Kay pulls two trays from the oven and neatly stacks each cookie on a wire rack to cool. “Maureen, are you sure there's nothing else going on at school? Are you telling me everything?”

“Everything is fine, Aunt Kay.” I glance guiltily at Debbie, who drops her eyes and shuffles her feet. “Sister Marion was just asking about Mom.”

Aunt Kay sees the body language, and the perplexed look that creeps across her face just about kills me. What sort of cretin am I, to tell such a bold-faced lie to someone as kind and good as Aunt Kay? I'm on the verge of confessing the whole sordid story when Billy and Bobby burst into the kitchen.

“Cookies, yum!” they yell. “Mommy, can we have some please?”

So much for confession. Aunt Kay places a big plate of cookies on the table while I pour four glasses of milk. I reach for a cookie, let my teeth sink into the warmth, but the chocolate chips feel like chalk in my mouth. See, that's the thing about telling lies—it never makes you feel better, you always end up feeling worse.

Aunt Kay doesn't say another word about it. Just chatters away pleasantly to the boys and to us. I figured she wouldn't pursue any of this, not while Debbie's still here. Major issues remain inside the family, that's her motto. Never let your guard down.

I notice Debbie glancing at the kitchen clock. I don't blame her. This hasn't exactly evolved into a relaxing afternoon for us. “Oh my goodness, is that the time?” she finally says. “I better go, Mom will be wondering where I am.” She grabs her bookbag. “Thanks so much, Mrs. Moriarty. Call you tonight, Maureen.” Then she was gone.

Billy and Bobby sprint away to watch
The Lone Ranger
and it's just me and Aunt Kay left in the kitchen. I take the glasses and plates to the sink and together we start to wash them up. And I wait for her to begin.

“Maureen, I'm really concerned about those two girls, Evelyn and Patsy. I've made a decision and you're not going to like it. I'm calling Sister Marion. What if these remarks are repeated in school tomorrow? This is your mother we're talking about here. We have to protect her. She has a right to her privacy.”

My eyelids close as I try to collect my thoughts. I know Aunt Kay is right, that we can't let people say these things about Mom. Sister would take care of it too, I'm sure about that. But if Aunt Kay gets on the phone to Sister Marion, the whole story about me and Miss Godwin would come out and I'd be in the biggest trouble of my life. Maybe I should just tell her now.

I bite my lip as I reach for another glass. But I'm only a coward—I simply don't have the guts to face this. “Aunt Kay, why don't we wait and see what happens tomorrow? Evelyn and Patsy probably wouldn't have the nerve to say anything like that in school, the nuns would kill them. Debbie thinks we should just ignore them. Maybe that would work.”

“I'm not convinced that would work.” Aunt Kay's arms splash around in the sudsy water. “Perhaps I need to discuss this with your father.”

“Please, Aunt Kay! Let's just wait one day, see what happens tomorrow. If Patsy or Evelyn say anything at all, even a single word, I'll tell you and you can call Sister Marion right away. Okay?”

She stops and leans her elbows on the edge of the sink. “Just as your mother's about to come home, all this happens. It's really not fair.” Then she turns and looks at me. “Okay, we'll leave it for one day only. If there's so much as a syllable uttered about your mother in that school tomorrow, you're going to tell me and then I'm on the phone to Sister Marion. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes, Aunt Kay.”

“Maureen, I certainly hope there's nothing else going on at school involving you. This family is unable to deal with any further trouble right now. Do you understand?”

I feel so guilty and horrible, I think I'm going to vomit. My head is buzzing. I have to hope and pray that Evelyn and Patsy won't say a word. Cripes! How on earth am I going to handle all this tomorrow?