Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret Read online

  Our new green choir robes were delivered to school the day before the pageant and were sent home with us to be pressed. The best thing about the pageant, besides wearing the robe and carrying the flashlight, was that I got to sit in the first row of choir sears, facing the audience, which meant that the kindergarten kids were right in front of me. Some of them tried to touch our feet with their feet. One little kid wet his pants during the scene where Mary and Joseph come to the inn. He made a puddle on the floor right in front of Janie. Janie had to keep on singing and pretend she didn’t know. It was pretty hard not to laugh.

  School closed for vacation right after the pageant. When I got home my mother told me I had a letter.

  13

  “Margaret—you’ve got a letter,” my mother called from the studio. “It’s on the front table.”

  I just about never get any letters. Probably because I never write anybody back. So I dashed over to the front table and picked it up. Miss Margaret Simon, it said. I turned the envelope around but there was no return address. I wondered who sent it. Wondering made it much more fun than ripping it open and knowing right away. It was probably just an advertisement anyway. Finally, when I couldn’t stand it any more I opened it—very slowly and very carefully so I wouldn’t rip up the envelope. It was an invitation! I knew right away because of the picture—a bunch of kids dancing around a record. Also, it said, HAVING A PARTY.

  Who’s having a party, I thought. Who’s having a party and invited me? Naturally I could have found out right away. I could have looked inside. But this was better. I considered the possibilities. It couldn’t be a PTS because I would have known. It could be somebody I knew from New York or camp, except I hadn’t written to any old friends to tell them my new address.

  Anyway, the envelope was postmarked New Jersey. Let’s see, I thought. Who could it be? Who? Finally, I opened it.

  Come on over on Saturday, Dec. 20

  from 5 PM to 9 PM (supper)

  1334 Whittingham Terrace

  Norman Fishbein

  “Norman Fishbein!” I yelled. That drip! I never even talked to him. Why would he invite me to his party? Still, a party is a party. And for supper too!

  “Hey Mom!” I yelled, running into the studio. My mother was standing away from her canvas, studying her work. Her paint brush was in her mouth, between her teeth. “Guess what, Mom?”

  “What?” she said, not taking the paint brush away.

  “I’m invited to a supper party. Here—look—” I showed her my invitation.

  She read it. “Who’s Norman Fishbein?” She took the paint brush out of her mouth.

  “A kid in my class.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “He’s okay. Can I go?”

  “Well … I suppose so.” My mother dabbed some red paint on her canvas. Then the phone rang.

  “I’ll get it.” I ran into the kitchen and said a breathless hello.

  “It’s Nancy. Did you get invited?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Did you?”

  “Mmm. We all did. Janie and Gretchen too.”

  “Can you go?”

  “Sure.”

  “Me too.”

  “I’ve never been to a supper party,” Nancy said.

  “Me either. Should we dress up?” I asked.

  “My mother’s going to call Mrs. Fishbein. I’ll let you know.” She hung up.

  Ten minutes later the phone rang again. I answered.

  “Margaret. It’s me again.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ll never believe this!” Nancy said.

  “What? What won’t I believe?”

  “We’re all invited.”

  “What do you mean all?”

  “Our whole class.”

  “All twenty-eight of us?”

  “That’s what Mrs. Fishbein told my mother.”

  “Even Laura?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Do you think she’ll come?” I asked, trying to picture Laura at a party.

  “Well, her mother and Mrs. Fishbein work on a lot of committees together. So maybe her mother will make her.”

  “How about Philip Leroy?”

  “He’s invited. That’s all I know. And Mrs. Fishbein said definitely party clothes.”

  When I hung up I raced back to the studio. “Mom—our whole class is invited!”

  “Your whole class?” My mother put her paint brush down and looked at me.

  “Yes. All twenty-eight of us.”

  “Mrs. Fishbein must be crazy!” my mother said.

  “Should I wear my velvet, do you think?”

  “It’s your best. You might as well.”

  On the day of the party I talked to Nancy six times, to Janie three times and to Gretchen twice. Nancy called me back every time she changed her mind about what to wear. And each time she asked me if I was still wearing my velvet. I told her I was. The rest of the time we made our arrangements. We decided that Nancy would sleep over at my house and that Gretchen would sleep over at Janie’s. Mr. Wheeler would drive us all to the party and Mr. Loomis would drive us home.

  My mother washed my hair at two o’clock. She gave me a cream rinse too, so I wouldn’t get tangles. She set it in big rollers all over my head. I sat under her hair dryer. Then she filed my nails with an emery board instead of just cutting them like usual. My velvet dress was already laid out on my bed along with my new underwear, party shoes and tights. My new underwear was not the ordinary cotton kind. It was nylon, trimmed with lace around the edges. It was supposed to be one of my December tradition gifts. All afternoon I kept thinking that maybe Norman Fishbein wasn’t such a drip.

  After my bath I was supposed to go to my room and rest so I’d be in good shape for the party. I went to my room and closed the door—only I didn’t feel like resting. What I did was move my desk chair in front of my dresser mirror. Then I stood on the chair and took off my robe. I stood naked in front of the mirror. I was starting to get some hairs. I turned around and studied myself sideways. Then I got off the chair and moved it closer to the mirror. I stood back up on it and looked again. My head looked funny with all those rollers. The rest of me looked the same.

  Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret. I hate to remind you God … I mean, I know you’re busy. But it’s already December and I’m not growing. At least I don’t see any real difference. Isn’t it time God? Don’t you think I’ve waited patiently? Please help me.

  I hopped off the chair and sat down on the edge of my bed, putting on my clean underwear and tights. Then I stood in front of the mirror again. I didn’t look at myself for very long this time.

  I went into the bathroom and opened the bottom cabinet. There was a whole box of cotton balls. Sterile until opened, the package said. I reached in and grabbed a few. My heart was pounding, which seemed stupid because what was I so afraid of anyway? I mean, if my mother saw me grab some cotton balls she wouldn’t say anything. I use them all the time—to put calamine on my summer mosquito bites—to clean off cuts and bruises—to put on my face lotion at night. But my heart kept pounding anyway, because I knew what I was going to do with the cotton balls.

  I tiptoed back to my room and closed the door. I stepped into my closet and stood in one corner. I shoved three cotton balls into each side of my bra. Well, so what if it was cheating! Probably other girls did it too. I’d look a lot better, wouldn’t I? So why not!

  I came out of the closet and got back up on my chair. This time when I turned sideways I looked like I’d grown. I liked it!

  Are you still there God? See how nice my bra looks now! That’s all I need—just a little help. I’ll really be good around the house God. I’ll clear the table every night for a month at least! Please God …

  14

  Later, my mother brushed my hair. It came out just right, except for one piece on the left that turned the wrong way. My mother said that piece made it look very natural.

  My mother and father smiled at me a lot w
hile I was waiting for Nancy’s father to pick me up. I smiled back. It was like we all knew some special secret. Only I knew they didn’t know my special secret! At least they didn’t say anything dumb like doesn’t she look sweet—going to her first supper party! I’d have died!

  Mr. Wheeler tooted his horn at quarter to five. My mother kissed me good-by and my father waved from his chair. “Have fun,” he called.

  The Four PTS’s squeezed into the back seat of the Wheeler car (not the station wagon). Nancy’s father told us it was silly to sit like that and besides it made him feel like a hired chauffeur. But all we did was giggle. Janie got her hair cut without telling us she was going to. She said she didn’t know it herself until that afternoon when her mother took her to the beauty parlor and had a private talk with Mr. Anthony. Then Mr. Anthony started clipping away and next thing she knew—she had this new haircut. She looked like an elf. It did a lot for her. And for a minute I thought about how I would look with the same haircut. But then I remembered how long I’d been suffering to let my hair grow. I decided it would be stupid to cut it all off.

  When we got to the party Norman’s mother opened the door for us. She was very tall and thin with a face like Norman’s. I remembered her from the PTA square dance. Tonight she wasn’t dressed like a farmer. She had on black velvet pants and some kind of top that looked like it had diamonds and rubies all over it.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Fishbein,” Nancy said, in a voice I’d never heard. “Please meet my friend Margaret Simon.”

  Mrs. Fishbein smiled at me and said, “Glad to meet you, Margaret.” Then she took our coats away and handed them to a maid who carried them up the stairs.

  “My, you all look so pretty!” Mrs. Fishbein said. “Everyone is downstairs. Nancy, you know the way.”

  I followed Nancy past the living room. The furniture was all very modern. The chairs looked like carved-out boxes and the tables were all glass. Everything was beige. At Nancy’s house the furniture all has lion’s paws for feet and there are a million colors. At my house the living room is carpeted but empty. My mother is trying to decide what kind of stuff she wants.

  Noman’s house was pretty big, because I had to follow Nancy through at least four more rooms before we got to a door leading downstairs.

  It looked like most of my class was already there. Including Laura Danker, who I thought looked gorgeous in a soft pink dress with her hair all loose, kind of hanging in her face.

  The boys had on sport jackets and some wore ties. Philip Leroy had on a tie the first time I saw him but a few minutes later the tie was gone and his shirt was unbuttoned around the neck. Soon after that, not one boy had his jacket on. They were all in a big heap in the corner.

  Mostly, the girls stayed on one side of the room, and the boys on the other. As soon as everyone was there Mrs. Fishbein brought out the food. All kinds of sandwiches and a big dish of cut-up hotdogs in beans. I took some of that and some potato salad and sat down at a table with Janie, Nancy and Gretchen. There were six little tables so practically everyone had a place to sit. As soon as we were all served Mrs. Fishbein and the maid went back upstairs.

  I’m not sure who started blowing the mustard through a straw up at the ceiling. I only know that I saw Philip Leroy yell, “Watch this, Freddy!” as he aimed his straw. I saw the mustard fly up and make a yellow splotch on the white ceiling.

  Mrs. Fishbein didn’t come downstairs again until dessert time. At first she didn’t see the ceiling. But she did see the mess on the buffet table. When she looked up she sucked in her breath and the room got very quiet. “What is that on my ceiling?” she asked Norman.

  “Mustard,” Norman answered.

  “I see,” Mrs. Fishbein replied.

  That was all she said but she looked at every one of us with an I-don’t-know-why-your-parents-never-taught-you-any-manners look. Then Mrs. Fishbein stood close to our table and said, “I’m sure these girls aren’t responsible for this mess.” We smiled at her, but saw Philip Leroy stick out his tongue at us.

  “Now I’m going upstairs to get your dessert,” Mrs. Fishbein said, “and I expect you to behave like ladies and gentlemen.”

  Dessert was tiny cupcakes in all different colors. I ate two chocolate ones before Freddy Barnett came over to our table. “I’m sure these girls didn’t do anything naughty!” he mimicked. “These girls are so sweet and good.”

  “Oh shut up!” Nancy told him, standing up. She was as tall as he was.

  “Why don’t you shut up, know it all!”

  “Cut it out, Lobster!” Nancy hollered.

  “Who’s a lobster?”

  “You are!” Nancy gritted her teeth.

  Freddy grabbed hold of Nancy and for a minute I though he was going to hit her.

  “Take your lobster claws off me!” Nancy yelled.

  “Make me,” Freddy told her.

  Nancy whirled around but Freddy had hold of her dress by the pocket and next thing we knew Freddy still had the pocket but Nancy was across the room.

  “Oh! He ripped off my pocket!” Nancy screamed.

  Freddy looked like he couldn’t believe it himself. But there he was, holding Nancy’s pocket. There wasn’t any hole in Nancy’s dress—just some loose threads where her pocket used to be. Nancy ran up the stairs and returned a few minutes later with Mrs. Fishbein.

  “He tore off my pocket,” Nancy said, pointing to Freddy Barnett.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Freddy explained. “It just came off.”

  “I am shocked at your behavior. Simply shocked!” Mrs. Fishbein said. “I don’t know what kind of children you are. I’m not going to send you home because your parents expect you to be here until nine and it’s only seven now. But I’m telling you this—any more hanky-panky and I’ll call each and every one of your mothers and fathers and report this abominable behavior to them!”

  Mrs. Fishbein marched back up the stairs. We couldn’t hold back our giggles. It was all so funny. Hanky-panky and abominable!

  Even Nancy and Freddy had to laugh. Then Norman suggested that we play games to keep out of trouble. “The first game is Guess Who,” Norman said.

  “Guess Who?” Janie asked. “How do you play that?”

  Norman explained. “See, I turn off all the lights and the boys line up on one side and the girls on the other and then when I yell Go the boys run to the girls’ side and try to guess who’s who by the way they feel.”

  “No, thank you,” Gretchen said. “That’s disgusting!”

  “Above the neck, Gretchen,” Norman said. “Only above the neck.”

  “Forget it,” Gretchen said and we all agreed. Especially me—I kept thinking of those six cotton balls. They weren’t so far below my neck.

  “Okay,” Norman said. “We’ll start with Spin the Bottle.”

  “That’s corny!” Philip Leroy shouted.

  “Yeah,” the other boys agreed.

  “We have to start with something,” Norman said. He put a green bottle on the floor.

  We sat in a big circle, around the green bottle. Norman told us his rules. “You got to kiss whoever’s nearest to where the bottle points. No fair boy kissing boy or girl kissing girl.”

  Norman spun first. He got Janie. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, near her ear but up higher. He ran back to his place in the circle. Everybody laughed. Then Janie had to spin. She got Jay. She put her face next to his but she kissed the air instead of him.

  “No fair!” Norman called out. “You’ve got to really kiss him.”

  “Okay, okay,” Janie said. She tried again. She made it this time, but far away from his mouth.

  I felt a lot safer knowing it would all be cheek kissing. I held my breath every time somebody turned the bottle, waiting to see who would get me and wondering who I would get. When Gretchen got Philip Leroy she could hardly stand up. She kept biting her lip and finally she went over to him and gave him the quickest kiss you ever saw. Then I really couldn’t breathe because I thou
ght, if he gets me I’ll faint. I closed my eyes. When I opened them I saw the bottle pointing straight at Laura Danker. She looked down and when Philip bent to kiss her I think all he got was her forehead and some loose hair.

  That’s when Jay said, “This is really stupid. Let’s play Two Minutes in the Closet.”

  “What’s that?” Norman asked.

  Jay explained. “We all get a number and then somebody starts by calling like—number six—and those two go in the closet for two minutes and uh … well, you know.”

  “We don’t have a closet down here,” Norman said. “But we do have a bathroom.”

  Norman didn’t waste any time getting some paper and pencils. He scribbled the numbers on a big sheet of paper—odd ones for the boys, evens for the girls. Then he tore each number off and put first the evens, then the odds in his father’s hat. We all picked. I got number twelve.

  I was half scared and half excited and I wished I had been experimenting like Nancy. Nancy would know what to do with a boy in the dark, but what did I know? Nothing!

  Norman said he’d go first because it was his party. Nobody argued. He stood up and cleared his throat. “Number uh … number sixteen,” he said.

  Gretchen squealed and jumped up.

  “Bye bye you two,” Nancy said. “Don’t be long!”

  Long! They were back in three seconds.

  “Hey! I thought you said two minutes,” Philip Leroy called.

  “Two minutes is as long as you can stay,” Norman said. “But you don’t have to stay that long if you don’t want to.”

  Gretchen called number three which was Freddy Barnett and I hoped I’d remember to never call number three.

  Then Freddy called number fourteen and got Laura Danker. We all giggled. I wondered how he would kiss her because I didn’t think he could reach her face unless he stood on something. Maybe he’ll stand on the toilet seat, I thought. And then I couldn’t stop laughing at all.