Calli Be Gold (17 page)

“The world makes me nervous,” Noah says.

“Why?”

“I can’t explain it. It just does.” He looks at me. “Don’t you know what I mean?”

I think about the world for a minute. “Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

Noah starts wringing his hands. I watch him, then gently take his hands and cover them with mine. All I do is hold them for a few seconds until his hands become still. Then I let him go.

He pulls the corner of his lip into a sad half smile, and I wonder if a grown-up helper will know how to calm Noah’s hands.

“Whaddya say?” I ask. “Should we finish our booth?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s either that or stay under here for the rest of the day and try to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

He laughs. That croaky, rusty laugh, and I pull him out from under the desk. My heart is absolutely soaring, and I don’t care about any other thing in the whole nervous world at that moment.

After Noah and I draw a few more decorations on our
board and glue on two final sayings, we take a step back and examine it together.

“I think it’s great,” I say. “I wouldn’t add anything else.”

Noah tilts his head. “It’s good.”

We sit down on the floor next to his desk. I stare at the classroom, at all the fifth graders and second graders working together. They all seem like they can hardly wait to show off their projects. I imagine all the families will be there, surrounding their children the night of the fair, complimenting them on their fantastic work. They’ll probably take lots of pictures and bring them little presents and maybe even go out for ice cream afterward.

But all I can picture when I think about my family are Alex’s and Becca’s Post-its glowing on the Calendar, and how all of them will be at the game and the competition, not my fair.

Noah tugs my sleeve. “My dad bought me a new shirt for the fair.”

“You’ll look great,” I tell him.

When it’s time to go, Noah and I fold up our display board and put the sheets, the Cool Whip container, and our sign on top, then stick on a label that says
NOAH ZULLO AND CALLI GOLD.

I pat Noah on the shoulder. “I’ll see you at the fair.”

“Okay.” He gives me a thumbs-up.

Well, I think, Noah will be with me Thursday night.

And Grandma Gold.

hursday afternoon, it begins to snow, and the weather people predict that we will get three to six inches before the night is over.

As soon as the first few flakes begin to swirl in the air, Jason calls out, “The snow’s starting,” and the whole class races over to the windows. We’re all pressed against the cabinet, the heat radiating from the vents onto our faces, when Claire turns to Mrs. Lamont, who is watching the snowflakes along with us.

“They won’t cancel the Friendship Fair, will they?” Claire asks.

“Oh, we’re not going to let some silly ol’ snow cancel our fair,” Mrs. Lamont says. “All of you have worked way too hard for that to happen.” She claps her hands. “All
right, all right. I know you’re very excited, but let’s get back to our read-aloud book.”

We settle back at our desks and Mrs. Lamont begins to read but I can hardly concentrate. I keep glancing at the snowflakes and thinking about the fair and my family and how Dad still isn’t talking to me.

Actually, he is, sort of. He politely asks how my day was and if I have a lot of homework—but he’s not really
talking
to me. He’s not really talking much to anyone. Even though he started coming home at his regular time, he walks around quieter than I’ve ever seen him. He seems slower, like his usual energy has melted away. I’m worried about him and feel guilty, like I was the one who caused all the trouble.

After school, Mom keeps zooming into and out of the garage like a crazy person, driving Becca to practice, bringing Alex his basketball uniform because he forgot it, then racing back to the rink to give Becca her gloves. After I begged endlessly, she agreed to let me stay home while she was rushing around. When she comes back in, out of breath, she says, “I’m leaving again soon. You can walk over to the school by yourself when you need to go.”

“I walk to school and back every day,” I remind her.

“I know, but this is at night. It’s dark out,” she says.

“Mom, the school is a block and a half away. What’s going to happen to me?”

She peels one blue and one pink Post-it from the Calendar. She takes off my yellow one about the fair and stares at it for a minute. “Remember to close the garage after you leave,” she says.

“Okay.”

“I’ve left a plate in the fridge for you to warm up. Some leftover pizza.”

“Okay.”

Her shoulders drop slightly. “I do feel so bad about this, Calli. Why does everything have to happen on the same night?” She picks up her purse and pulls out her keys. “You know, I don’t think I realized this myself until this very moment, but sometimes … I feel as torn as that corner of the Calendar.”

I squint at her. “What do you mean?”

“Here’s a confession.… I just long for a day when I can sit at the front window with a cup of coffee … and not have to rush somewhere.”

I nod.

She sighs.

“Sometimes you want to enjoy the gold without all the rush?” I say softly.

She gazes at me. “That’s very insightful, Calli.”

I smile at her. “Mom? Is Dad okay?”

She sighs again. “Well, my guess is he’s doing a lot of thinking. He’ll be fine.” She looks at her watch. “We’ll talk later.… I need to run,” she says, kind of sadly. “Listen,
I will try to get there as soon as I can.” She kisses me on the top of my head, then whizzes out of the kitchen, calling, “Zip your jacket all the way.”

A little before six, I eat the pizza, rinse the dish in the sink, then put on my jacket. I remember to zip it all the way
and
close the garage. Big, floppy, wet snowflakes are coming down now, the kind you can really taste on your tongue, which is what I do the whole way to school. By the time I get there, my hair and eyelashes and jacket are entirely covered in snow.

In the gym, some people have already started setting up the booths. I see a table with the pile of Noah’s and my stuff, but no Noah. I decide to wait so we can set up together.

Wanda runs up to me the moment she spots me, and pulls me toward her booth. Wanda and her peer called their exhibit Friendship Across the Universe. They used the Play-Doh to make all the planets, then set them up in order across a black poster board.

“Nice job with the planets,” I say. “You matched the colors really well.”

“Do you get our theme?” Wanda asks.

“Kind of.”

I gather that Wanda and her peer have imagined that if there are beings living in another galaxy, we should try to make friends with them. Underneath their sign,
FRIENDSHIP ACROSS THE UNIVERSE,
they wrote
Aliens are our friends, not our enemies.

“It’s really creative,” I tell Wanda. “And unusual … like you.”

“Thank you.” She grins at me, then crosses her arms. “Did you see Tanya’s exhibit?” She points across the gym. There are Tanya and Ashley, with a TV on top of their table, and a gigantic sign that says
SOUTHBROOK’S TOP MODEL COMPETITION.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I snort.

“Let’s go over there.” Wanda grabs my arm.

We saunter down the row of booths, waving to people and saying, “Great job,” and “Good work.” When we get to Tanya’s booth, we stop. And stare.

First off, Tanya and Ashley are dressed up like they’re going to a big party. Tanya is wearing a pink satiny dress and black high heels with skinny straps decorated with rhinestones. Ashley has on a white poufy lace dress and white party shoes.

“Wow,” I say.

“Oh, hello.” Tanya acknowledges us. “I know. Isn’t our exhibit amazing?”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” I answer. “It’s … very … bold.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Wanda rolls her eyes.

Tanya clasps her hands and I see that she has painted her nails a glossy pink. “We went with the model theme—you know, like
ANTM?
”

“Huh?” Wanda says.

“
America’s Next Top Model.
My absolute favorite show
ever. Anyway, our whole idea is that competitors can really become BFFs.” Tanya squeezes Ashley’s arm.

“It’s great.” I try to make my voice sound as dull as possible.

Tanya turns on the TV and their video begins to play. First there is Tanya’s smiling face saying, “Welcome, everyone, to Southbrook’s Top Model Competition!” Next is a shot of Tanya, then Ashley, walking down a runway as if they’re in a fashion show.

“We have to go now.” Wanda pulls me.

The two of us break into a run, trying to hold back our giggles. Mrs. Lamont calls out, “No running in the gym!” and we slow down.

“What’s up with them?” Wanda is laughing so hard that tears are brimming in her eyes. “Did they think that would demonstrate friendship? They look ridiculous! The whole thing is hilarious!”

“Leave it to Tanya to come up with something like that.” I point toward Claire’s table. “Hey, Claire’s booth is looking good.”

Wanda puts her hands up as if she is a crossing guard. “Claire’s very hyper right now. She told me not to bother her until it’s all set up.”

“Okay,” I say, and scan the gym. “Where do you think Noah could be?”

“I don’t know. Listen, Cal, I have to go back and finish my booth. I’ll see you later.”

At six-forty, I decide that I have to start setting up
our booth even though Noah still hasn’t showed up. I’m beginning to worry, but maybe they’re just late because of the snow.

I spread the sheets over the table and leave an opening right in front. Then I unfold the display board and stand it on top of the table. I place the Cool Whip container and our sign in front of the board.

Our booth looks a little unexciting next to some of the others, but I know we have a good theme.

Noah still hasn’t arrived. Maybe something really is wrong. He wouldn’t miss the fair. He said he’d be here.

Just before seven, all the exhibits are set up. They are colorful and creative and unique. The gym looks as bright as a carnival. Somehow, even Tanya’s model video fits in. Together, Mrs. Lamont and Mrs. Bezner pull open the gym doors.

The first one inside is Grandma Gold. She has on a gold sequined baseball cap and a thick red sweater. She walks right up to Mrs. Lamont and taps her on the shoulder. “I’m looking for my granddaughter. Calli Gold. I’m sure her exhibit is the best one in the entire fair.”

Mrs. Lamont points in my direction and Grandma makes her way over. “Well, isn’t this adorable?” She pecks me on the cheek.

“Hi, Grandma.”

“So what are you supposed to do? Go under the table?”

“Yeah,” I say. “And tell a secret.”

“I don’t think I could get these old bones under there.” She chuckles. “I’ll leave that to you kids, but here, I’ll make a donation.” She snaps open a zebra-print coin purse and drops a quarter through the slot on the Cool Whip container.

“Thanks, Grandma.”

“Are you Calli?” It’s the dad from the skating rink, without his laptop and the phone attached to his ear. “I’m Noah’s dad.” He pumps my hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Dan Zullo,” he says to Grandma Gold, and shakes her hand too. “This is something.” He whistles, looking at the booth, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The Secret Friendship Booth. Noah’s been telling me about it. Where is he, by the way?”

“I don’t know. He was supposed to be here early to help set up, but he didn’t come,” I say.

“What do you mean?” Noah’s dad looks surprised. “I dropped him off here an hour and a half ago.”

“You did?” My mind starts to race and I feel all prickly and nervous.

“Yes.” Noah’s dad looks around the gym. He wrings his hands once, like Noah does sometimes, then drops them to his sides.

“He’s not in the gym,” I say. “I’ll check upstairs.” I bolt out the doors, up the stairs and dash into Mrs. Bezner’s classroom. I duck my head under Noah’s desk.

He’s not there.

I run back into the gym, which is now filling up with moms and dads, sisters and brothers, and grandparents. Everyone is buzzing and complimenting and snapping pictures, just like I imagined.