Читать книгу Dahling If You Luv Me Would You Please Please Smile - Rukhsana Khan - Страница 8

Halfway to school the next day, I hear someone call me. I turn to see Jenny running to catch up. She really shouldn’t run. She clutches her binder tight, but even under the jacket, her chest is bouncing as if jogging with a life of its own. She arrives breathless.

“I’m so glad I caught you. I hate walking to school alone.”

I walk a little slower so she has a chance to catch her breath. It’s very windy. My hair whips my face. I keep having to push it behind my ears. I say, “I didn’t know you lived around here. Which is your house?”

“It’s back there. It really isn’t anything special.”

She waves in the direction of a shabby old street, a dead end, with a railway line running behind the houses. The dandelions on the overgrown lawns are grey-haired and balding. The wind makes them nod, scattering their seeds in all directions.

For several blocks we walk without talking. Leaves and crumpled bits of paper blow past us. I don’t step on any cracks in the sidewalk. It’s a stupid little game I play. Jenny steps on ten.

She breaks the silence. “I guess you must have seen what happened in the classroom yesterday. You know, I mean, between Kevin and me.”

I nod without looking at her. From the corner of my eye I can see that her face is a deep red.

“Um. I’d really appreciate it, I mean, I’d really like it if you wouldn’t mention it to anyone. I mean, that you saw us together. You know, Cheryl might get mad.”

I stare at her then. I’d been so embarrassed about being caught with the tag I’d almost forgotten about her and Kevin.

Her hair, wispy and light, blows in her face and hides her eyes. “You see, Kevin doesn’t want anyone to know. About us, I mean. Not yet. Not till he dumps Cheryl.”

“Don’t worry, Jenny. Besides, who’d I tell?”

“I’m so glad, Zainab. I’d just die if it were all over the school. I just couldn’t stand it.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell. I promise.”

“Oh, thanks. Thanks so much. And don’t worry about the tag. I won’t tell anyone about it. And I made Kevin promise he wouldn’t tell either.”

I don’t believe Kevin will keep it a secret and I guess my disbelief shows because Jenny adds, “No, really. You don’t have to worry.”

We round the corner, and Deanford is in sight. Jenny says, “I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble after Weiss let us go.”

“No. I was lucky.”

“How?”

Her bangs still veil her face. She reminds me of a shaggy sheepdog. How can I not trust her? “Mr. Weiss was going to call my parents but I managed to talk him out of it.”

“You’re kidding! How?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t too hard. In fact, he gave me a kind of assignment. I’m in charge of the Mackenzie King play for the drama competition.”

“You’re kidding! Can I help?”

Alarm bells ring too late in my mind. What does she mean by help? She can’t act worth beans. “Uh. I don’t know. What did you want to do?”

She says, “Oh, I don’t want a part in the play. I’d just like to, you know, be your assistant, that kind of thing.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve decided not to take the job.”

“Why not? You’d probably be good at it.”

Layla’s laughing face flashes across my mind’s eye. Before I talked to her, I thought I’d be good at it too.

Jenny touches my arm. “You should do it. Show them all what you’ve got.”

I almost smile. Part of me agrees. Then I shake my head. It’s too risky. As we step onto school property, the bell rings and we are ushered inside.

In the classroom, I go up to Mr. Weiss, tapping him on the elbow.

He’s chatting with another teacher and gives me a ‘not right now’ look. I go and sit down.

As soon as he’s finished with the other teacher, I start forward, but Mr. Weiss gestures for us all to quiet down and remain seated.

He faces us, pulling up his pants and tucking in the tails of his shirt. “I’ve got news. I’ve finally decided who will be in charge of the play this year.”

I stick up my hand, waving it frantically. Mr. Weiss smiles. “It’s okay Zainab.” He turns back to the class. “As you know, Mackenzie King has never won the house league competitions since the formation of this school twenty-eight years ago.” He chuckles. “Some even say we’re cursed.” He pulls up his pants again and tucks in those wayward shirt tails. “This year it looks as though we have a chance. Especially since I’ve put Zainab here in charge of the play.”

My classmates groan. They actually groan. As if they’re one human body being told they have four months to live. I want to sink down into my seat, become one with the grain of wood. Mr. Weiss is furious at them.

“That’s enough! I’ll have no more of that. Zainab is in charge and I expect all of you to give her your full co-operation!”

Kevin stands up, flashing a look of contempt at me. “Why put her in charge when we finally have a chance? Especially in drama. We’ve got the best actors in the school in our class.”

He’s referring to himself. He appeared in a few commercials and had a couple of small roles in movies. Once he played a paperboy, telling some detective where the crooks had gone. In the whole movie all he said was, “That way, sir.” And he pointed. The other time he shined shoes and was tossed a quarter by the star. He had to tip his hat, but not say anything. If anyone else had done it, they would have been teased to death, but not Kevin. No one ever makes fun of Kevin. It’s kind of funny though, if you think about it. He’s never had a paper route or shined shoes in his life.

Everybody is agreeing with Kevin. One of his gang even stands up and says, “Yeah, with Kevin we’re sure to win.”

Mr. Weiss frowns at him and turns to Kevin. “In that case, Zainab’s job should be easy. Think of it as a challenge to your artistic abilities. You of all people should appreciate that, Kevin. And if you’re serious about acting, then you’ll have to learn to get along with all kinds of directors. What better time to learn than right now?”

Kevin grumbles but sits down.

Mr. Weiss gives a satisfied nod. “Well then. Since that’s settled, take out your history books to page fifty-seven and read till the end of the chapter.”

There are rumblings, like mutiny in the ranks, as everyone shuffles through their textbooks, then a loud slam.

Mr. Weiss jumps. “Kevin!”

Kevin is picking his textbook up off the floor.

“Sorry, sir, my text accidentally fell.”

It’s clear Mr. Weiss thinks it was no accident. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Mr. Weiss comes over to my desk. “You wanted to say something, Zainab?”

“Oh, nothing.” I pick up my text and start reading. During the whole lesson I can hardly concentrate. Finally, the recess bell rings and everyone starts filing out the door. Mr. Weiss calls me to stay behind.

After the last kid is gone, he says, “What did you want to say to me?” His eyes are a nice soft brown. “Go on, you can say anything.”

Up close, you can see the puffy bags under his eyes, and the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth. He looks tired. As if he has a pile of his own problems. I can’t back out now. I just can’t, not when he has such faith in me.

“I just don’t know what play we should do.”

His eyes light up. “Well, you know, I was thinking. This is a wonderful opportunity to expand our horizons. Why don’t you take a story from your culture and make a play from that?”

“Wouldn’t that just give them more stuff to make fun of me with?”

“It’s really up to you. You can do a regular story if you wish. It was just a suggestion. Is that any help?”

It isn’t, but I smile anyway and when he asks if I have any more questions I shake my head. Jenny is waiting outside. “So, are you going to do it? Are you? And can I be your assistant? Please?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

She’s skipping along beside me. I feel like slapping her. She says, “So what play are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I was talking to Weiss about. He thinks I should do something about my culture.”

Jenny grabs my arm. “That’s a great idea. It would be so fresh and different. You must have tons of stories to tell.”

Who’d ever want to hear what a Paki has to say, and a girl Paki at that?

We round the corner of the school, straight into a stiff wind. It pelts us with grains of sand and blows in our ears. We find a sheltered cranny where it can’t reach us so well. A girl struts by wearing Lucky jeans with the tag intact. It gives me the beginnings of an idea. “Maybe we could do a play about how useless fashion is. I mean it really is stupid. One year short skirts are in, the next year they’re not. I mean, who decides when they look good and when they don’t? People should wear what they want to.”

Jenny nods thoughtfully. “What about the story about the king who was tricked by those tailors into paying for imaginary clothes?”

“I know the one. I can’t remember the title, though.”

She says, “You know, the tailors kept saying how beautiful the material was and everyone, even the king was too embarrassed to say he couldn’t see it because the tailors said that only people who were terrible at their job couldn’t see it.”

I nod. “And when the king went parading through the streets in his new clothes, no one told him he was in his underwear, until a kid said, ‘Look, the –‘ Now I remember! It wasn’t a king at all, it was an emperor. It was called The Emperor’s New Clothes.”

Jenny laughs. “That’s it. It would be great.”

“Nah. I’d never get anyone to parade around in the nude.”

Jenny looks serious. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe not nude, but in their underwear. Besides, well, what I mean is, not everyone is against being naked.” She glances at me and frowns. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not talking about me. I’m just saying some people like the feeling of wearing no clothes. You know, they don’t think it’s any big deal. And in the art galleries, there’s lots of pictures . . . what I mean is that the human body is beautiful. Some people don’t mind showing it off.”

“What are you talking about, Jenny? Do you . . .”

Jenny blushes deep red. “Of course not! Don’t be silly. But my mom belongs to a club and they . . .”

The only image of a mother I can think of is my own. And the idea of a bunch of chubby, saggy naked women on lounge chairs almost makes me gag.

“Why would she do that?”

Jenny looks grim. “Even if you don’t agree with it, you don’t have to act like that!”

I stop snickering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Jenny has her arms crossed beneath her huge breasts as she stares out over the field in the direction of Kevin. I am respectfully silent, and soon the lines of her shoulders ease and her expression softens.

I wouldn’t have dared bring up the subject again, though I’m dying to know more.

Surprisingly, Jenny continues. “My mother thinks that she’ll find a nice man at this club.”

I don’t say anything. Not one word. My gut tells me it’s the right thing to do.