Yankee Girl by Mary Ann Rodman

Author:Mary Ann Rodman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Usborne Publishing Ltd
Published: 2014-08-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

JACKSON DAILY JOURNAL, Friday, December 18, 1964

NEGROES BOYCOTT DOWNTOWN STORES

Holiday Sales Suffer

Pageant day, and the whole sixth grade was a nervous wreck. Both classes were penned up in 6B, waiting our turn to go to the auditorium.

The Cheerleaders worked on Debbie’s sleep-mashed hairdo with a rat-tail comb and a can of Aqua Net. Tommy paced the edges of the room, mumbling and sucking cough drops. I dodged from corner to corner, avoiding Karla and her iron fingernails.

Only Valerie remained calm, reading at her desk. She was really dressed up, in a red velvet sailor dress with a matching headband. Too bad no one would see her backstage.

Miss Gruen and Miss LeFleur were everywhere at once. Gluing cotton balls to the Wise Men’s chins. Tying green crêpe-paper bows on the chorus. Making Debbie wipe off her white lipstick. Miss LeFleur looked extra pretty today in a green suit and heels, a cluster of tiny Christmas bells pinned to her shoulder.

Miss Gruen wore her usual brown.

Miss LeFleur fluttered her hands in the air, palms stained green from the crêpe paper. “Time to go, boys and girls. Line up, please. Chorus first.”

Chattering voices and snatches of Christmas carols from open doors followed us down the hall. The smell of corn-bread dressing wafted from the lunchroom. Lunch.

The scent reminded me that in two hours the Christmas pageant would be over. We’d eat, swap presents, and go home. I tried to remember what life was like before the Christmas pageant.

I couldn’t.

We left the chorus at the auditorium door. The rest of us followed Miss LeFleur’s clicking heels out the front door, down the sidewalk, and around the corner to the stage door.

Backstage was jammed with first graders in candy-cane costumes and second graders dressed as reindeer. It smelled of stage dust and Pan-Cake make-up.

We were last on the programme, which meant standing backstage for ever. Tommy paced along the wall, trying not to cough. Mary Martha trailed around in her Mary robes, clutching a Tiny Tears doll wrapped in a blanket that was supposed to be the Baby Jesus. Valerie stood alone, staring into the rafters. Was she nervous? Scared? I was. I could feel sweat circles creeping out from under my arms. I hoped they wouldn’t show onstage.

I smelled Miss LeFleur’s White Shoulders perfume before I saw her.

“Places, everyone,” she stage-whispered over the fifth graders, who were bellowing “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”.

Tommy went into a fit of coughs. “It’s the dust,” he choked. “Anybody got a cough drop?”

“My hair’s falling down,” whined Debbie.

“You’re standing on my robe.” Mary Martha shoved Skipper off her hem.

Karla’s pinchers closed on the back of my wrist. I scarcely noticed.

Miss LeFleur stepped through the curtains and was almost flattened by the fifth grade stampeding offstage.

“And now,” said Miss LeFleur, “the sixth grade presents the Nativity from the Book of Luke.”

Feet shuffled on creaking risers as the chorus arranged themselves. Miss Gruen’s hands hit the opening chords of “The First Noël”. That was Tommy’s cue.

He stood in the wings, coughing.

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