Читать книгу Written in the Stars - Lois Duncan - Страница 11
ОглавлениеJane slumped on her bed. “Oh,” she moaned, “why did I ever say I would go!”
Downstairs she could hear the clatter of supper dishes being washed, her father’s radio, her mother and Alice laughing together in the kitchen.
Jane had told them at dinner. Alice had said, “I think I’m going to take a night off and get to bed early for a change,” and their mother had answered, “Good for you, dear; you’ve been out too many nights this week as it is.” Their father had nodded.
Jane had said, “I have a date tonight.”
There was a moment of silence. Everyone stared at her in surprise.
“It’s with a boy named Kent,” Jane continued matter-of-factly. “Kent Browning.” She was pleased with herself for the way she said it, calmly, casually, as though she had dates every night, as though it were nothing to become excited about at all.
“Kent Browning,” Alice repeated. “I don’t believe I know him. Is he in your class?” Now that Alice was in college, she no longer knew all the high school boys.
“No,” Jane said, “he’s here for the summer. He’s visiting Ed Morris.”
Her mother found her voice at last. “Why, that’s lovely, dear. Where are you going?”
“To the Country Club dance. We’re doubling with Ed and Kathy.”
The family was still staring at her, dumfounded, when she excused herself to get ready. “Is it all right if I don’t help with the dishes tonight?”
“Of course!” Her mother rose too. “Can I help you, dear? Is your dress pressed? Do you have a good pair of nylons?”
“What’s he like, Jane? Is he nice?” Alice asked.
“I don’t know,” Jane said. “I’ve never met him. Kathy set up the date.”
Suddenly the miracle was gone. Her family melted from amazement into understanding. No boy had asked Jane for a date—Kathy had been the one to arrange it. Kathy called herself Ed’s girl, but half the boys in school were enthralled with her, and she encouraged them all. Whenever Ed asked her to get one of his friends a date, Kathy blithely skipped over her own group of friends and chose someone who supplied no competition—usually Jane.
“Oh.” Alice got up and started toward the kitchen. “Well, you can take my new evening bag if you like.”
“Thanks.” Jane went slowly upstairs. The date was no longer a bright, shining opportunity; it was only an evening and would go as flat as any other date evening. The boy would arrive, and he would be good-looking, because all Ed’s friends were good-looking: he would look at Jane and try not to appear too disappointed, and they would get into the car with Ed and Kathy, and Kathy would be beautiful. The evening would pass, somehow, and finally Jane would be home again and the date would be over.
In a wave of hopelessness, Jane took her strapless evening gown off its hanger and hauled it unceremoniously over her head. Then she sat down in front of the dressing table to put on her lipstick.
All she could see in the face that looked out at her from the mirror were freckles and a tight-lipped mouth, full of braces. “It’s your fault,” Jane told the face furiously. “Why can’t you look like Alice?” It was hard to have a pretty sister, especially when that sister looked so very much like yourself. Feature by feature, Jane was forced to admit that she and Alice were practically identical, and yet not a soul hesitated to call Alice pretty.
“It’s not fair,” Jane said bitterly. She got up in despair and crossed to the window. The sky was deep and the stars were bright and very near the earth.
Jane chose one, almost without thinking, and said, “Star light, star bright—first star I’ve seen tonight.” The childish words of the old rhyme were familiar and reassuring. How many thousands of times had she wished on stars! First with Alice, and then, when Alice grew older, by herself—always the same wish, but it had never come true.
“I wish,” Jane said softly, “that I were beautiful.”
The stars seemed to lean nearer the earth, as though to hear her better, and Jane heard her words ringing soft and clear through the night: “I—wish—that—I—were—beautiful.” The night flowed in through the open window, close and warm and filled with magic. “Beautiful!” it echoed. “I—were—beautiful.” Jane caught her breath.
What would it feel like to be beautiful? How would it feel if, when she looked in the mirror, the familiar freckled face was gone and in its place there was one she had never seen before? It would be lovely, with deep violet eyes, a flawless complexion, white, even teeth. A glow swept over her and she stood there, feeling beauty spreading over her, hardly daring to breathe.
She sat down weakly on the foot of her bed. “I know,” she whispered. “I know how it feels to be beautiful! That must have been the right star!”
Downstairs the doorbell rang. There was a rattle of newspapers as her father got up to answer it—the sound of the door opening—voices.
“Jane!” Her father’s voice. “Your friends are here.”
“Jane!” Her father called again.
“Coming!” Jane hesitated, and then turned toward the door. “I won’t look,” she told herself softly. “I feel beautiful. If I look, I might break the spell!”
Instead, she threw open the top bureau drawer and rummaged quickly through it until she found Alice’s evening bag, hurriedly transferred her lipstick and comb, and started for the stairs.
Kent was standing in the living room with her father. He was a tall, blond boy with broad shoulders and an easy smile. He smiled now as he saw Jane.
“Hello.” He stepped forward to meet her. “I guess you’re Jane. I’m Kent Browning.”
Jane felt herself begin to freeze, the way she always did when she had to meet new people. She began to draw her lips tightly together to conceal the braces, and then suddenly remembered. Any boy in the world should be glad to go out with a beautiful girl! The thought was such a new one for her that she smiled despite herself.
“Hello, Kent,” she said warmly, taking the hand he offered. “I’m glad to meet you.” She glanced sideways at her father’s startled face. “I see you’ve met my dad.”
“Yes—sure.” Kent’s eyes didn’t leave her face.
“Well, we’d better not keep Ed and Kathy waiting. Good night, Daddy. We won’t be late.”
Kent had the door open, and a moment later they were outside, walking toward Ed’s car.
“Here we are,” Kent said, opening the back door and helping Jane in.
“Hi, Jane!” Ed said as he started the car, “How are you doing?”
“Fine, thanks, Ed. Hi, Kathy.”
Kathy turned in the front seat, tossed casually over her shoulder, “Hello, Jane. Sorry we’re late. I held things up by taking too long getting dressed. Aren’t I terrible?”
“Horrible,” Jane agreed pleasantly, “but we’ll forgive her, won’t we, Kent?”
She heard her own voice, light and teasing and sure of itself. Just the way she had always wanted it to sound. Always before, when she had tried to sound careless and gay, the words stuck in her throat and came out in jerky, self-conscious lumps, but now suddenly it was easy. How could anyone be self-conscious when she felt beautiful?
“Maybe you can forgive her,” Kent said, “but I can’t. It’s made our evening fifteen minutes shorter.” He laughed, and Jane laughed with him, liking the warmth in his voice.
Kathy turned to them in obvious surprise. “Hey,” she said, “is this a budding romance?”
Ed said, “You’d better watch that guy, Janie.”
Jane had never been to the Country Club before. She had sometimes passed it at night, driving home from a movie with her family, and heard the music and laughter swelling out into the night. She had daydreamed about it—imagined herself stepping through the door into the fairyland of gaiety within—but the dreams had been tinged with a kind of terror. “What would I do if I were there?” She had imagined herself standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor, staring into the unhappy face of her escort, while dozens of glamorous, graceful couples whirled by. But tonight was different. Tonight was a magical night.
When they stepped into the ballroom, Jane gave a little gasp of delight. “Why, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed. “Just the way I imagined it would be!”
“You mean you haven’t been here before?” Kent was amazed.
“No, I haven’t, but I’ve always wanted to come.”
Kent looked oddly pleased. “I’m kind of glad that you haven’t. I like being the one to take you for the first time.”
Jane smiled at him. “I like that too.”
Kathy, who had been clinging to Ed’s arm, turned and looked at Jane as if seeing her for the very first time. She stood there, watching Jane smile up at Kent, and her eyes grew large.
“Jane,” she said, “you’ve changed…”
But Kent was saying, “Would you like to dance?”
“Love to,” Jane said. Then Kent’s arm was around her, the music swept over them, and suddenly they were whirling across the floor, leaving Kathy and Ed behind. Jane looked back over Kent’s shoulder and laughed at Kathy’s amazed face.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Oh, nothing really. Just because I’m happy.”
Kent said, “I’m happy too.” He tightened his arm, and the music surged wild and sweet all about them. Other couples flew past like blurred figures in a dream.
I’m not dancing! Jane thought. I’m flying!
No dancing was ever like this! The music stopped and began again and stopped and began again. Some of the couples left the floor and others appeared.
A dark-haired boy touched Kent’s shoulder.
“May I cut in?”
Kent said, “Well…”
Jane was dancing with the dark-haired boy.
“I’m Mike Ingram.”
“I know. I’ve been in your chemistry class all year.”
The boy shook his head. “You couldn’t have been. I’d have noticed if you were.”
“I sit three seats behind you. You should turn around once in a while, Mike.”
“Gee, I really should!”
“Cut!” Another boy. “Hi. I know you, don’t I? Girls look so different at dances; you know, all fixed up and shiny.”
“I have the locker next to yours,” Jane told him, “You’ve never even said hello in the mornings. I don’t know whether I should dance with you or not.” But the lilt in her voice made it clear that she was teasing.
“Well, you never said hello either, then,” the boy retorted, “or I would have said hello back to you.”
“You’re forgiven,” Jane said, “and I’m ashamed of myself.”
Why, I never did speak to him, she thought. And I spent the whole year feeling hurt because he didn’t speak to me!
“Cut!” It was Kent again. “Hey, you might save me a dance.”
Jane laughed. “As many as you want.”
The music stopped.
“Intermission, I guess. Would you like some punch?”
“I’d love some.”
Kent seated her at a table and then stood looking at her for a moment. “You will be here when I come back, won’t you?”
She laughed again. “Of course.”
“I just want to be sure.” He reached over and touched her hand. “Nothing like this ever happened to me on a blind date before. When Kathy told me about you, I never thought you’d be like this.”
“Why?”
“Well, she said you were quiet and aloof, but a nice-enough kid. When a girl says that it usually means she can’t think of anything better to say.”
“May we join you?” It was Kathy and Ed.
Ed looked hard at Jane. “Golly,” he said, “Kathy’s right. You do seem different tonight.”
Jane looked at Kathy and her heart sank, for Kathy’s eyes were hard. On other blind dates Kathy had been sweet—almost too sweet—talking with Ed and the other boy and every now and then speaking gently to Jane, as though she were a child. But, on the other blind dates, Kathy had been the only pretty one. Jane had sat awkwardly apart, not knowing what to say and afraid to call attention to herself by saying anything at all. Never before had Jane’s date looked at her the way Kent was looking at her now—never had Ed’s eyes wandered from Kathy to focus on Jane. Before, Kathy had been a friend, but now suddenly she was a friend no longer.
“I have a cousin,” she said coldly, “who has an overbite like yours, Jane. The dentist thinks she should have braces, but she hates the thought of it. You’ve had braces for so many years—do they feel as awkward as they look?”
Jane started to answer, but no words came.
“The poor little thing has freckles, too,” Kathy continued. “It does seem a shame, doesn’t it? Some people have all the hard luck when it comes to looks.”
On any other night words as cruel as those would have shriveled Jane into a self-conscious heap, wordlessly fighting back tears. Now she found herself smiling. What did it matter how she had looked in the past?
“Oh, most girls have to go through these things,” she said as casually as possible. “We can’t all be blessed with your good looks, Kathy.”
Kathy’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth and closed it again. For once in her life she could think of nothing to say.
Kent broke the silence. “I’m getting punch,” he said. “Want to come, Ed?”
“Yes,” Ed said, “Good idea.” He got up to follow Kent and then turned back to Kathy. “If I’d been Jane,” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t have been that polite.” He turned abruptly away.
Kathy’s eyes were blazing. “What are you trying to do?” she demanded accusingly of Jane. “Break Ed and me up? This is the last blind date I’ll get for you.”
Looking at her, Jane felt a surge of pity. What an unhappy girl she is, she though in surprise. How unsure of herself she must be if she is afraid to ask anyone attractive to double with her! Why haven’t I noticed before? Aloud she said, “Don’t be silly, Kathy. You’re Ed’s girl, and he’s always been crazy about you.”
Kathy didn’t answer. Instead she turned her face sulkily away, and they sat in silence until the boys returned to the table.
“Here it is,” Kent said, setting down the glasses. “They call it punch, but I wouldn’t advise you to drink any of it—it tastes even worse than it looks.”
Jane glanced at the foamy, purple mixture and mimicked the look on his face.
“I think maybe I can survive without it then. How do you feel about it, Kathy?”
Kathy didn’t answer. Instead she turned pointedly to Ed and asked, “Shall we dance?”
Ed looked at her for a long moment—at the pretty, selfish face, at the pouting mouth, and then slowly he shook his head. “This time,” he said, “I’d like to dance with Jane. That is, if you and Kent don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Kent agreed.
Ed took Jane’s arm and steered her out onto the dance floor. They danced for a while in silence. Then Ed said, “Until tonight I always thought Kathy was swell—she’s so cute and always seems to know the right thing to say. But seeing the way she’s treating you tonight, I’m not so sure. I never knew there was this other side to her.”
He sounded confused. Jane felt sorry for him.
“Kathy’s the same as always,” she told him. “Lots of girls forget themselves when the boy they’re interested in seems to—to—” She stopped and blushed.
“Seems to be getting interested in somebody else?” Ed finished for her. “Maybe she’s right. To tell you the truth, Janie, I wasn’t too keen on Kathy’s getting you as a date for Kent. I didn’t think you’d hit it off together. You’ve always seemed so quiet and serious and all tied up inside yourself. But tonight—I don’t know what the difference is exactly. You just seem to kind of sparkle.”
Jane was surprised. “Sparkle? You mean I look different, don’t you?”
Ed shook his head. “No, you look the same—very nice—but that’s not what I meant. It’s something else.”
“What?”
Ed shook his head. “Whatever it is, I like it. And so does Kent. Here he comes to cut in.”
A moment later Jane was looking up into Kent’s teasing face. “Hi, there, freckles!”
Jane smiled at him. She thought, Even if the wish hadn’t come true—even if I still did have freckles—I wouldn’t mind being teased about them by Kent. He makes freckles sound almost like an accomplishment.
“And all that talk about braces!” Kent was still grinning down at her. “Boy, I used to hate those things, but I’m sure glad now that I wore them.”
“You wore braces!” Jane asked in astonishment. Somehow she had never imagined the calamity of braces happening to anyone as attractive as Kent.
“Up until this past spring,” Kent answered without embarrassment. “Then I graduated to a nighttime retainer.”
The orchestra swung into the last dance. Kent tightened his arm and laid his cheek against Jane’s hair. The lights dropped low, and for a moment they were lost in the softly swinging mass of dancers, swept along by the music.
Then it was over.
“Hey, here we are! Ready to go?” Ed had his hand on Kathy’s arm, but his eyes were for Jane. The crowd swept them out the door, and they tumbled, laughing, into the car.
It was on the ride home that Kent kissed her—a gentle kiss, shy and awkward and half-afraid.
“Jane,” he whispered afterward, “you’re not mad, are you?”
“No,” Jane whispered back, “I’m not mad.”
She felt somehow that she should be—that girls were always angry and injured when they were kissed on a first date—but tonight it was part of the magic.
She leaned her head back against Kent’s shoulder. From the car window she could see the night sky, still heavy with stars. She wondered idly which was her star, but they all looked exactly the same, swinging together high over the earth.
And then the ride was over and Kent was opening the car door for her, and she was saying, “Good night, Ed—Kathy—thank you for including me.”
Kathy did not answer, but Ed said, “Good night, Janie; I’ll be seeing you—soon.”
They paused a moment at the front door.
“Good night, Kent,” Jane said softly. “It’s been the loveliest time I’ve ever had.”
“It has been for me too.” He hesitated. “How about tomorrow? There’s bound to be something we can do, even if it’s just a movie.”
“I’d love to do something,” Jane said. And to herself she thought, how easy it is! There’s nothing terrifying or complicated about it; it’s the simplest thing in the world.
She went into the house and up the stairs. She could remember other evenings when she had come home from a blind date and crept up the stairs to throw herself miserably on her bed. But that was before, when she had not been beautiful.
She slipped into the room quietly so as not to waken Alice and undressed in the dark. When she lay down on her bed she could still feel the magic, leaping and laughing within her, and when she shut her eyes she could feel the warmth of it all through her.
“Jane!” It seemed only minutes later that her mother’s voice called her name. “Jane!”
“Yes?” she responded drowsily.
“Jane, telephone!”
Jane opened her eyes. “Why, I just got home a few minutes ago!” Then she saw that the room was flooded with sunlight and Alice’s bed was empty.
“Goodness,” she said, “I must have slept and slept!” She stretched and yawned and went stumbling downstairs to the telephone. “Hello?”
“Hi,” Kent’s voice said on the other end of the line. “I hope you don’t mind my calling so early. It’s just that it looks like a great day for the beach, and if we went early we could spend the whole day. Would you like to, Jane?”
Jane smiled at the eagerness in his voice.
“That sounds great,” she said. “I can be ready in a jiffy.”
“Gee, swell. I’ll be right over.”
Jane hung up the receiver and was starting for the stairs when she overheard her name. She paused and heard her mother’s voice in the kitchen.
“It was for Jane,” she was saying. “A boy—maybe the one she went out with last night! Our ugly duckling is blossoming at last!”
“Well, it’s no wonder,” her father’s voice replied. “When she walked out that door last night, smiling and chatting with that Browning boy, I hardly knew her. It could have been a different girl.”
Jane laughed with delight. It was the star! She thought. Even Daddy noticed the change!
She started upstairs and came face to face with the hall mirror.
“Hi,” Jane whispered happily to the face in the mirror. She started on, then did a double take and turned back. She stood staring for a very long time—at the freckles and the snub nose and the braces. Her heart sank.
“I was fooling myself,” she said dully, “all along. I probably knew, deep down inside; that’s why I didn’t want to look in a mirror. Wishing on a star can’t change your looks. I knew it—but I wanted so badly to be beautiful, I made myself believe it.” For a moment her disappointment was more than she could bear.
And then, through her misery, she heard her mother’s voice.
“I know what you mean, dear. But it’s not a physical change; it’s something deeper than that—a kind of inner glow. A girl can go along for years, and then one day something will happen to give her confidence in herself. Maybe a boy will look at her in a certain way, or smile at her, or kiss her. It happened to Alice—remember?”
To Alice? Jane thought of her lovely sister, and suddenly her mind slipped back to a time when Alice was not beautiful—when Alice had wished on stars too. Why it’s true! she thought, and wondered briefly, what had changed Alice—a look, or a smile or a kiss. She knew instinctively that Alice would never tell. It is a very private moment when a girl discovers that she is beautiful.
She looked again at the face in the mirror and smiled. The face smiled back, not its old, tight-lipped grimace, designed to conceal the unconcealable braces, but an easy, happy smile. And it was beautiful.
Jane turned away.
“Mother,” she called, starting toward the kitchen, “may I borrow your swimming cap?”
(written at the age of 21)
What can I say about “The Wish”? There’s so much about it that is dated. How many girls today wear nylon stockings and carry evening bags? How many boys “cut in” at dances and use words like “swell” and “gee”? Only one phone in the house, and it’s downstairs, where everyone can listen in on whatever you’re saying? Swimming caps at the beach? And an understood rule that a kiss on a first date is socially unacceptable?
Yet despite those details, the premise of this story has held strong over the years and is as true today as it ever was: A girl who feels secure in the fact that she is beautiful creates her own aura of beauty which transcends any physical imperfections she may have.
