Katrina's Wings by Patricia Hickman

Author:Patricia Hickman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

S ixteen sparkling trophies sat on a table on the school gymnasium floor during the senior awards day. No pithy copier certificates for our class. The table cover, purple satin, flaunted our high school mascot in gold sequined appliqué—a garish mockingbird with a menacing bill and a purple M emblazoned across the chest. Our principal, Mrs. Nedreddy, dressed herself in a fastidious fashion—even more so than usual.

“To the senior class of nineteen hundred and seventy-six, I wish to commend you all,” she said, “for exemplifying the highest standards of any class that I can remember for many years. Today’s tokens of esteem are simply our recognition of those qualities that reflect your achievements and effort in making Mockingbird Valley High the best 4A school in five counties.”

My classmates cheered. Caught up in the revelry, I felt a certain mix of glee and melancholy. Each presented award subtly surprised me, leaving me sidelined and wondering when and how the line had formed to apply for achievements. I wondered if those students had been told of those awards years ago on the sly, with the rest of us poor underachieving souls left out in the rain. Give me any old token of your esteem, Mrs. Nedreddy. But do give one to me .

Beth sat to my left. Jenny sat perched on the right and slipped M&M’s to us both.

“Where’s Jane, Beth?” It surprised me to see them separated.

“She’s mad at me.”

“Jane’s always mad at someone,” said Jenny. She dabbed at her eyes. Plagued with allergies, dark circles under her eyes gave her a fatigued appearance.

“Give me another M&M,” I said.

“I told her she shouldn’t get her hopes up about the Randolph Award for Musical Excellence,” Beth said. Culpability marked her life. I could see guilt wash through her—the way she raked her fingers through her hair and stared into the doorway of the incident instead of looking at me. “She’s miffed.”

“Her voice is the best in the high school chorus,” I said as I rummaged around inside the brown bag for chocolate strays, those little damaged M&M’s.

“It’s her GPA. She won’t study. She just tries to fly by on talent.”

“I didn’t even know about the award,” I said. “Mrs. Curry always ignored me in the chorus. I should have never dropped art class. May as well say it. All those trophies have left me in the dust.”

“Where have we been all these years, Katrina? Did your momma tell you about this stuff?” Jenny curled the candy bag into a megaphone shape and shouted into it whenever Mrs. Nedreddy roused the crowd.

“My mother? She just wants me married off to some guy who goes to tractor pulls every weekend.”

That did it. Our goal each day was to see how often we could make Beth laugh. Her odd laugh started as a low intermittent chuckle then spilled out in a tinny hyena clatter. That sent Jenny and me over the edge until our classmates in front of us shamed us with their imperious stares.

“Breathe, Beth,” I said.

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