The Reinvention of Bessica Lefter (5 page)

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sylvie said quietly. “You talk about going to middle school as a brand-new person. This is a way to make sure we’re equally brand new.”

“What?” I said. I couldn’t believe she meant that.

And then I stopped listening to anything anybody had to say. Because I felt that everybody in my living room had become a jerk. Then my mom did a little bit of pleading on my behalf, and even though I wasn’t listening anymore, everybody was speaking loudly enough so that I learned even worse news.

“I actually switched Sylvie to South two months ago,” Mrs. Potaski said.

This news blew my mind.

“What?” I asked. I jumped to my feet and pointed at Sylvie. “Did you know about this?”

Sylvie shook her elf head. “I just found out today.”

I sat back down. But for some reason I kept pointing at Sylvie. Until she started to leave.

“There really isn’t anything more to talk about,” Mrs. Potaski said. “We should get going.”

I watched Sylvie and her mom walk to their car. My mom followed behind them. I thought she’d keep pleading on my behalf. But I didn’t hear that. Just silence.

“I know that’s not the news you were hoping for,” Grandma said.

“I don’t even believe that’s going to happen,” I said.

“Remember what I said about the journey,” Grandma said. She tried to hand me back my fruit dish, but I didn’t take it. I walked outside because I didn’t want to hear anything else that Grandma had to say. Because she was not improving my mood. And then, standing in the driveway, I watched my best friend wave at me as she was driven away.

It was so lame. Even if her haircut made her look a little elfin and bulb-nosed, she still looked like a girl. And the diary was stupid. And I felt bad about those things I did in fifth grade. That was why I said I regretted them. Couldn’t anybody else see that? That was when the next rotten thing happened. Except I didn’t know it was rotten yet. I just thought it was weird. A giant motor home pulled into our driveway.

“Are you lost?” my mother asked as she walked toward the driver’s window.

Then this old guy in a cowboy hat shook his head. “It’s me. Willy!”

Why was Willy in my driveway? Why wasn’t he in New Mexico, where he belonged?

“Rhoda!” Willy yelled. That was Grandma’s name. But nobody called her that; everybody called her Grandma. Except for her Scrabble buddy, Maple, who called her Toots. I watched in horror as Grandma ran to the window and began smooching Willy. I couldn’t stop staring.

Finally, my mom exclaimed, “This is a surprise!”

Then Grandma stopped smooching Willy and looked at us. “We’re going on a road trip to visit a few places we’ve both always wanted to see.”

And I thought my mom was going to object to this by yelling and maybe even swearing a little, because Willy’s motor home was belching black smoke and it was clear to me that this was an unsafe vehicle that my grandmother did not belong inside of. But my mom didn’t do that at all.

“Wow,” she said. “That sounds like fun. How long will you be gone?”

Instead of letting Grandma answer, stupid Willy answered, “We’ve decided to take the next six weeks to see some world-renowned caves: Crystal Cave, Jacob’s Cave, Talking Rocks Cavern, Bluff Dweller’s Cave, and more!”

“Six weeks?” I yelled. “To look at caves?”

“Lower your voice,” my mother said.

Just then my dad pulled up. I felt relieved that he was home from work early, because he would talk sense into everybody and force Grandma to continue living in our basement. I loved Grandma. I didn’t want her to leave with Willy. It was like she’d gone crazy. Didn’t she know that we needed her?

My dad’s reaction was not what I’d hoped for.

“Nice to see you again, Willy. Cool Winnebago,” he said.

Then Willy offered to give my dad a tour and take him for a ride. Then my mom said that she’d like to check it out too. Then we all climbed in and Willy drove us down the road in his stupid, belching motor home, and I heard Grandma laughing, and Willy laughing. My mom and dad said stupid things like “I’ve always found caves fascinating” and “The fall is a beautiful time to travel.”

And I realized that they were probably sick of having Grandma live in the basement and they were probably going to enjoy having a place to set up their home gym again. It was wrong on so many levels. I closed my eyes and pretended that none of this was happening. I pretended that everything was normal. But as I rode along in the motor home, my world swayed. I had to take a seat at the kitchenette. Silverware jingled in the drawer. Pots and pans clinked in the cupboards. When I opened my eyes, everybody looked so happy. Then Willy pulled into our driveway again and we all crawled out of the motor home.
That was when my father finally noticed that I was a brand-new person.

“Bessica,” my father said. “What did you do to your hair?”

And I said the most honest thing ever.

“I think I ruined my life.”

illy kept his motor home parked in our driveway, because he and Grandma still needed a few days to pack and prepare. I didn’t even like to go in the living room anymore, because that stupid Winnebago sat right outside in plain view, reminding me that my life was terrible. Stupid Winnebago. I regretted ever teaching Grandma how to go online.

I sat on my bed and tried to think of a way to change the direction of my life. But when that started to seem pretty hopeless, I pulled out a pack of gum.

Knock. Knock. Knock
.

“Do you need anything from the store?” Grandma asked.
“Willy and I are going to pick up some additional caving equipment.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“A medical kit, a couple of headlamp systems, and probably some knee pads.”

Suddenly, the thought of a potential injury occurring while they explored caves across America made me think I might be able to reason with Grandma. She opened the door and smiled at me.

“Aren’t you worried about your hip?” I tried to make my face look tender and concerned. “How do you expect to examine caves with your current joint issues?”

Grandma sat down on the bed and hugged me. “You haven’t brushed your hair today.”

I reached up and touched my hair. I could feel my pixie cut sticking up all over the place. But I didn’t care.

Grandma ran her fingers through it, trying to smooth it, but that didn’t work.

“I don’t feel so hot.”

Grandma nodded. “Isn’t your middle-school orientation tonight?”

Originally, I was going to go to middle-school orientation with Mom and Sylvie and Sylvie’s mom. But South had their orientation last night. And since that was the school that Sylvie was going to, and I hadn’t heard from her, I assumed that that was the orientation she’d attended.

“Have you called Sylvie yet?” Grandma asked me.

It had been five days since the horrible announcement in my living room.

I shook my head. “It’s official. We’re on the outs.”

Grandma sighed and hugged me again. For some reason, she smelled more like toothpaste now than she ever had before. “Maybe you need to call her and break the ice.”

I shook my head again. “What if her mom answers? Mrs. Potaski said some pretty harsh things about my character.”

“Don’t assume the worst. Do you want to know a secret?”

“Is it about Willy the Maniac?” I asked.

Grandma looked at me sternly. “Willy has been exceptionally kind to you and I expect you to treat him kindly in return. And no, my secret isn’t about him.”

“Sure,” I said. “Tell me your secret.” Usually, hearing about secrets made my mind spin with the energy of a thousand monkeys. But not today.

“If you want a certain outcome, you should practice the power of visualization.”

“Huh?” I said. Her secret sounded completely bogus.

“Before I met Willy, I used to imagine meeting somebody exactly like him. I pictured us together shopping in a store for caving supplies like knee pads and headlamp systems. I even pictured him pulling into our driveway in a rented motor home nearly identical to the one he has.”

My jaw dropped. “The motor home was your idea? And
so was the cave exploring?” I thought Willy had put her up to that. It was part of the reason I thought he was a maniac.

“Focus on the outcome you want, and picture it.”

I pictured Willy falling off a cliff and smiled. Then I looked at Grandma and felt guilty, so I mentally put Willy, unharmed, right-side-up on the cliff again.

“Bessica, I want you to have a fabulous time at orientation. I want to hear all about it when you get back.”

Then Grandma left before I could ask her to buy me a headlamp system or medical kit or knee pads, because those seemed like cool things to keep in my locker.

After Grandma left my room, I thought about what she said about the power of visualization. I pictured Sylvie in her house standing next to the phone. I pictured myself calling her on my own phone. Then I pictured Sylvie answering. But I got so mad when I pictured this that I started yelling at her in my visualization. Because all she had to do was stick up for me and tell her mom that she wanted to go to North. Not South! North! Then my mom knocked on my door and asked if I was getting ready, and I decided that I would try to visualize this stuff later because I needed to go down into the basement and get some pants out of the dryer.

When I got to the last stair, I saw something that made me very sad. Grandma had gotten out her big duffel bag.
Looking at that thing made me want to visualize something else. I walked to Grandma’s bedroom. And I pictured Grandma and Willy breaking up. But then Grandma looked sad and lonely. And it bugged me that Grandma liked dull Willy so much. Because what did he even bring to the table? So I decided to go online and get into Grandma’s E-Date Me Today account and learn more about him.

It wasn’t hard to figure out her password, because she had written it on a sticky note attached to her computer:
My password is Bronco
. Typing the word
Bronco
and clicking open Grandma’s E-Date Me Today account made me excited. Grandma didn’t have to be stuck with dull Willy. There were a ton of pictures of single people. And they sounded so much more interesting than Willy. I mean, I found out that he was a retired auto mechanic who enjoyed welding, walking, and salty snacks. He was a terrible fit for Grandma! The last thing she needed was more salty snacks. Why couldn’t she see that?

I clicked on the other photos. Edgar in Seattle had been skydiving and was much younger and looked like a lot of fun! Peter in Portland had a face like a movie star and had once played in an orchestra. And I counted at least six retired doctors who owned boats. Why wasn’t Grandma dating one of them? We loved going swimming together. It didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t see any logical reason why she should be dating Willy.

Reading through Grandma’s profile, it became clear why she and Willy had ended up with each other. Grandma had filled out her profile all wrong. First, she’d turned her profile to the inactive setting five months ago, which meant that future boyfriends would not be contacting her. So I changed that and made her active. Then, I noticed that she had described herself in a very unflattering way. Where it asked for her body type, instead of selecting
slim
or
athletic
, she’d chosen
carrying a few extra pounds
.

Then I got to a major problem. Grandma’s picture wasn’t so hot. She was sitting down, so you couldn’t even see how tall she was, which was one of her best features. So I looked through our photo files until I found the perfect shot of Grandma. She stood in front of the camera smiling, wearing bright red shorts, stretching her legs. It looked like she was about to run a big race. It must have been before I was born, because I’d never seen those shorts. And I didn’t ever remember Grandma running. But the picture was perfect! Because Grandma looked happy and fit and adventurous and fifty.

Then I got to another huge problem. In a section called Tell Us About Yourself in Your Own Words, Grandma had gone on and on about her interests in opera and history and Scrabble and exploring, and it made her sound very dull. So I fixed this by deleting everything and typing: “I am a great cook. And I love water sports!”
Click. Click. Click
.