How High the Moon Read online

  “How do you spell it?” I asked, crossing my fingers because I had a B tile, and they were worth three points.

  Teddy spelled it, and what could I say but “Shucks” because I didn’t have an E or a G.

  I couldn’t find a word to make so I tossed my tiles back in and picked new ones. Then it was Slow-Moe Teddy’s turn.

  “Hey, Teddy,” I said as he looked at his tiles, then back at the board, and back at his tiles again. “This feels like old times, doesn’t it? You and me at home playing a board game, while Ma’s at The Dusty Rose?”

  “I guess it does,” Teddy said, his head down studying his letters.

  “But we used to play Chinese checkers back then. Until I lost too many of the marbles.”

  A snappier song came on then, so I picked up the two windowsill shelf thingies that we weren’t using and tapped them together to the beat of the song. “Hey, Teddy, what are these things called, anyway?” I asked, as I held them out.

  “I don’t really know,” Teddy said. And boy was I sorry I asked, because then Teddy started reading the inside of the box to see if it told.

  “Geez, Teddy,” I said. “I didn’t want to know that bad.”

  Teddy, that lucky, put down the word quick. Twenty points! So I set down the only word I had the letters to make: gluck.

  Teddy’s eyebrows bunched even more than they already were. “Gluck?” he said. “I don’t think that’s a word, Teaspoon.”

  “Sure it is,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure. So of course Teddy had to get out the Webster’s to prove me wrong. Good thing “Davy Crockett” came on the radio then, so I had something good to tap and sing to while Teddy flipped pages. “Sorry, but gluck’s not a word,” he finally said. “You’ll have to try a new one.”

  I glanced up at the clock.

  “She’ll be back eventually, Teaspoon. But probably not while you’re still awake.”

  “I don’t want to play no more, Teddy,” I said. Then I went to sit by the window, while Teddy put the chairs back and shut the radio off. I sat there until he told me I needed to go to bed because I had Sunday school in the morning.

  I lay awake for a long time that night, listening to the wind rustling the leaves of the tree between my house and Charlie’s, humming songs that sounded like harmony to that rustling, then stopping every time a car came down the street. Waiting to see if it stopped.

  And finally one did. One filled with loud music and shouting. I leapt out of the bed and looked out the window.

  The noise was coming from Dumbo Doug’s car, parked in front of the Jacksons’ house, right under the streetlight. Boy, drunk people sure did talk funny, their words stretched out like hot taffy. “Johnnnnnnnnnnny,” a girl’s voice said when the back door opened. “Don’t goooooooooo.”

  Johnny shut the door behind him and a girl with dark hair like mine, only straighter, leaned out the window, her arms holding the outside of the door like she might spill out onto the street if she didn’t hang on to something.

  Johnny didn’t say anything to her, he just backed up a bit, his body slow and staggery, a beer bottle dangling from his hand.

  “The other direction, Jackson,” Dumbo Doug said when Johnny took a couple of steps into the street. Dumbo Doug had a girl with him who I couldn’t see, but who I could hear.

  Johnny was circling the front of the car when that idiot Dumbo Doug let the car move forward enough to bump his hip. “Doug!” the dark-haired girl screamed. Johnny dropped the beer bottle he was holding and cussed loud.

  The Jacksons’ front door opened and Mrs. Jackson stepped out in her robe. “Johnny?” she called. “What’s going on out there? You’re going to wake up the whole neighborhood!” She was harping loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood herself, but I suppose she had to yell if she wanted to be heard over all that racket.

  Mrs. Jackson poked her head back in the door, and out came Mr. Jackson. “They’re going to wake up the whole neighborhood,” Mrs. Jackson harped as she followed Mr. Jackson to the street. “Doug, you get yourself home. And in one piece, too. Go!” she said. Mr. Jackson tucked Johnny’s arm over his shoulder and helped him into the house, Mrs. Jackson harping behind them, “You boys and your good times!”

  But my oat-sowing Johnny didn’t look like he was having a good time to me.

  I didn’t mean to doze off, but I did. A soft thud and the jiggle of my doorknob woke me.

  “Don’t go in there, Catty. Let her sleep,” I heard Teddy say. His voice sounded so far away that I thought it might be coming from a dream.

  “I wanna see my baby girl,” Ma said.

  “Tomorrow. Let her sleep. I put clean sheets on my bed. Go lay down, Catty. It’s late.”

  Ma giggled, and not too softly. “Your bed? Oh, maybe you are happy I’m back after all.” I heard two thumps, like shoes hitting the floor.

  “Remember the good times we used to have, Teddy?” Ma said, her voice movie-star flirty. Ma’s voice dropped to almost a whisper. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Longer for me than you, I’m sure,” Teddy said. And then he told Ma to go get some sleep.

  I propped up on my smooth elbows and blinked the sleep from my eyes.

  Ma sounded like she was auditioning for a Shirley Temple part when she said, “Go get some sleep? Aren’t you coming with me, Teddy?”

  “The blankets on the couch are for me, Catty.”

  “Well, fine then. I’ll just go where I’m wanted.” I flung one leg over the side of my bed to help Ma because I thought she was turning my doorknob in the wrong direction, when Teddy said, “Catty, please. It’s almost two thirty. Tomorrow. When you’re sober.”

  Ma got crabby then. “You telling me what I can and can’t do with my own kid? She’s mine, Teddy. I can do what I want with her.”

  The door burst open then, and Ma came in, filling my room with the smell of beer and perfume. “Mama’s home,” she called. “Wake up!”

  I suppose Ma could see my smile in the bit of streetlight that glowed through my filmy curtains, because she smiled back at me. She dropped on my bed, pinning my leg. I yelped, so Ma shimmied her butt so I could pull myself free. “Sorry, honey,” she said. “But I just couldn’t let the day go by without saying good night to my little girl. You have a happy day, Teaspoon?”

  “The happiest,” I told her. “That is, until September third, when the gala comes and you get to see it. And Teddy, and Charlie, and…”

  Teddy appeared in the doorway then, his hand on the knob. “There, Catty. You’ve said good night. Now I’ll help you to your bed.”

  Ma ignored him. “Scoot over, Teaspoon,” she said. Then she stretched out beside me on my skinny twin bed. “And you scoot out, Teddy,” Ma said. “We’re gonna have ourselves a little girl talk.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Girl talk.”

  “Teaspoon’s got Sunday school in the morning, Catty. Don’t keep her up too long.”

  “Go!” Ma shouted with a laugh, as she snuggled close to me. Then Ma told me about her fun time at The Dusty Rose, and how she met up with “old friends and new,” and all the nice things they said about her. I listened, but not so much to what she was saying, but to the sound of her voice, rising and falling like a melody.

  I don’t know who fell asleep first, and by morning, I didn’t remember much of anything Ma said. What I remembered, though, was the feel of her cheek up against the side of my head, and waking up with the wall cool against my back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  In the morning, after Sunday school, Charlie came home with me. “She still sleeping?” I yelled when I got inside.

  “Not anymore,” Ma called from my room.

  Charlie followed the smell of baking cake like it was coming from the Pied Piper’s flute, while I poked my head into my room. “Hi, Ma.”

  Ma stretched out on the bed, her arms reaching above her head, her wrinkled blouse rising above her belly. “So you had to go to Sunday school,” she said with a sleepy la
ugh. “What’s that Teddy trying to do, corrupt you?”

  “No. He’s trying to help me get rid of my afflictions,” I said. “Listen to this one,” I said, reciting the only Bible verse I remembered. Miss Tuckle had made us memorize at least one, so I’d made it into a jingle. I sang it for Ma…

  If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed,

  ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place;

  and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible to you.

  “Jesus,” Ma said.

  “That’s right, Ma! Jesus said that! It’s from Matthew. I don’t know what all of it means, because it’s said in Bibley words, but I know what it mostly means. That if you believe you can do something, then you can. Though I don’t know about moving a mountain.”

  Ma yawned. “Sweetie? How about you leave me alone for a bit until I wake up enough to clear the cobwebs from my head.”

  “Okay. See you soon,” I said.

  I went into the kitchen where Teddy was mixing up some chocolate frosting.

  “Hey, Teddy. Did you know that Ma knows some of the Bible? I didn’t.” I looked over at Charlie, who was peeking into the hole on the top of the cocoa can. “Don’t even think of taking a lick, Charlie. That stuff doesn’t taste good until it’s mixed with sugar.”

  Ma shuffled into the kitchen while me and Charlie were having some cake, the frosting slipping off the top like Teddy warned would happen because the cake was still warm. But who cared. It tasted just as good.

  Ma leaned over and gave my cheek a kiss. Then she circled the table and gave Teddy one, too, which made me happy. She stuck her finger in the frosting on Teddy’s plate and licked it as she eyed Charlie with sleepy eyes. “Charlie, right?” she asked. Charlie nodded. Then she leaned down and kissed his cheek, too. “Morning, Charlie.”

  Charlie looked up at Ma, his mouth making a shy, frosting smile.

  “Did you save any scrambled eggs from breakfast for Ma?” I asked Teddy.

  Before he could answer, Ma said, “Just coffee for me. My head is killing me, and my stomach isn’t feeling much better.” Her bare feet made swishing sounds on the linoleum as she made her way to the bathroom.

  Teddy got up to get her coffee, and I got up to get her the invitation me and Charlie made for our Live at the Starlight performance.

  “What’s this?” Ma asked after she sat down. Boy, even with her hair a snarly poof and her lipstick gone, Ma looked movie-star pretty. Which reminded me…

  “Ma, don’t forget to get your movie-star poster out, okay? The Jackson kids don’t believe you’re a star now, so I want to show it to them. Me and Charlie want to see it, too.”

  “When my head stops thumping, okay?” she said. She stirred some milk into her coffee and took a sip. Then she picked up our invitation, reading it out loud.

  “You put together a show just for me?” she said, all happy.

  “We sure did, Ma.”

  “But you’re making me wait until tonight,” she said with a pout.

  “You don’t have to wait if you don’t want to. Me and Charlie could do it right after we finish our cake.”

  “Well, I’ve got to take a bath and get rid of this headache. But after that. How would that be?” I grinned at Charlie.

  Before Ma got in the tub, me and Charlie helped her carry some of her bags into the house so she could get some clean clothes. After we carried in the second armload, Teddy dried his dishwater hands and came out to help. “How much of this are you bringing in?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Boy, Teddy, what a dumb question. All of it, of course.”

  Me and Charlie and Teddy did most of the hauling, while Ma dug through junk in her trunk for her movie poster.

  My heart was beating like a bass drum when she found it, rolled like a pirate’s spy glass. “Here you go. Be careful with it, though. It’s the only copy I’ve got.”

  I slipped the rubber band off one end, and there it was, a red-and-black poster, as real as Charlie’s grasp on my arm. The scary creature had blood dripping out of his squinty eyes and a fat sharky mouth. More blood dripped from rips in its skin, which looked scaly as bad elbows. A trail of blood left by his long tail was smeared across the page.

  The monster was carrying a lady that anyone could see was Ma over his shoulder, even if half of her was upside down. Okay, maybe her butt and balloons were a little bigger in the picture than in real life, her legs a little longer, but there was no mistaking her face that was turned so we could see it, her mouth opened in a scream.

  “Attack of the Atomic Lake Lizard,” I read out loud. “One Hundred Feet of Scaly Death!”

  “Is that a real monster?” Charlie asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “There’s no such thing as real monsters, Charlie. Even in the movies. Right, Ma?”

  I could feel Jolene and James spying on us from across the street, so I held the poster up, pointing it in their direction. “It’s my ma’s movie poster! Come see!”

  James ran around the back of their house to get his brothers, and they all came running to the front yard, cardboard swords in their hands.

  Jolene read the poster out loud. And when she got to the part that said, Starring Mack Filbin and Catty Marlene, I felt so proud I could have cried.

  “Cool. Blood,” James said.

  Jennifer chewed on her braid, looking at the poster from the corner of her eye, like she didn’t want the lake lizard to know she was looking at him. “Did the monster kill you in the end?” she asked.

  “Who cares about that,” Jack said. “Did he rip off your dress when he attacked you?”

  Jolene elbowed Jack. “I’m telling Ma you talked dirty.”

  The Jacksons asked a bajillion questions, talking right over each other and shoving each other out of the way so they could stand closest to Ma.

  Ma took the poster from me and scooted her butt on the hood of her car, holding it up like she was playing Show and Tell as she answered every question they had. Charlie was butted up to me so that our bare arms were touching. I could feel his sweat smearing on me, so I gave him a little shove and told him to move over. A few seconds later, though, Charlie was stuck up against me all over again. I suppose because he was scared. Either of the monster on the poster, or of the Jackson kids—not that there was a whole lot of difference.

  “Is that real blood?” Jennifer asked while Jolene stared up at Ma with her big yap hanging open.

  Ma laughed. “This poster is just a drawing.”

  “Did you use real blood in the movie, though?” James asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Now, where would they get gallons of real blood from, James?”

  “The hospital. They have blood there.”

  Ma laughed. “The movie was in black and white, so we used chocolate syrup.”

  “What about the monster?” Joey asked.

  “Oh, that’s Stan. Poor guy worked up such a sweat inside that rubber suit that he had a rash the whole week we were filming.”

  I think the Jackson boys were disappointed, finding out there were no real monsters or blood in the movie, and that Ma didn’t get naked. But their eyes perked right up when Ma told them how she played a lady named Eleanor Wilkinson, and how the government tested some atomic bombs in the lake where her family had a summer home and that atomic stuff fell into the water and made a lizard grow big and deadly mean. How he went on a killing rampage, and the leading man, Mack Filbin, who played a scientist (and her boyfriend by the end), had to save her by finding a way to kill the lizard.

  “He chased you all over Kingdom Come, didn’t he, Ma?” I asked.

  “Yep.” She lifted her leg, bare in her shorts, and pointed to a scar on her thigh. “I got that when the monster was chasing me and I fell, cutting it on the lid of a tin can someone left near the water,” she said. “It hurt so bad I cried. Course, that was perfect for the movie, so they left that part in.”

  “Wow,” James said.

  Ma jumped off the car, h
anding me the poster. Then suddenly she wasn’t Catty Marlene anymore. She was Eleanor Wilkinson.

  She raced along our house, breathing hard and looking back in a panic, like she thought she was being chased—and she was, by us—then into the Frys’ backyard. Poochie went nuts, of course, and Ma crouched down behind a bush, peeking out at him and screaming like he was the monster—which in a way, he was.

  Boy, Ma was some actress! When she got down and stuck her legs out from the side of the bush and made them jump and twitch farther and farther into the open, you could have sworn that monster was yanking her out. She kicked and screamed as she tried to get loose. Screamed so loud that Mrs. Fry came running.

  Ma fell back on the grass, her head landing right in Mrs. Fry’s flower patch, laughing like crazy, while we applauded her performance and laughed right along with her. “Wow, that was cool!” Jack yelled over Poochie’s barks. I leaned over and yelled at Poochie to shut up, and he backed up a little, even if he was still yapping.

  “Land sakes,” Mrs. Fry said, “I thought Poochie was killing somebody out here!”

  Ma sat up, and Mrs. Fry hobbled over to her flower bed, lifting a crushed stem from the ground and frowning when the purple flower top flopped sideways like its neck was broken. “You kids get out of this yard now,” she said, looking at Ma like she was one of us. “And Charlie, these weeds are growing up again, so you’d best get busy.”

  Charlie looked at me. “It didn’t even rain,” he said with a shrug.

  So Charlie stayed home to work while Ma signed napkins with autographs, one for each Jackson kid, and after they left, I helped Ma unpack.

  Teddy had cleaned out three drawers for Ma to use (or maybe they were already empty, since he didn’t have anybody giving him hand-me-downs), so Ma had to figure out which things she wanted in there, since all her stuff couldn’t have fit in ten dresser drawers.

  Ma sure had some pretty things! I took a hat, shaped like a swimming cap, with a clump of fake flowers on the side, and slipped it on my head while I dug through her jewelry case. I untangled some necklaces, grabbing at a string of pearls. I didn’t think I grabbed that hard, but that necklace snapped right in half. I gasped, but Ma only laughed. “Those are popper beads,” she said. She took the necklace from me and showed me how the little knobby end on one bead fit into the tiny hole in the bead of the other. “See?” She popped off a couple more and said, “It’s so you can make the necklace any length you want.”