22
I WALKED HOME QUICKLY, through back yards and along lightly traveled streets. The sky was dark, and the wind had begun to rise. If it had been a summer afternoon, I would have said that the rumble in the distance was thunder. When I got home, I dashed inside and went directly to my room, where I sat on my bed holding my camera and wondering what to do.
I heard the phone ring downstairs, but I made no move to answer it. I didn’t want to speak to Spike or Veronica or anyone else who was after a part. My mother came to the foot of the stairs and called up to me. “It’s for you, Peter,” she said.
“It’s not Spike, is it?” I asked.
“Noooo,” she said.
“It’s not Veronica, is it?” I asked.
“Noooo,” she said. She was wearing a playful smile. “It’s Clarissa Bud. She seems very eager to talk to you.”
“Oh,” I said, relieved. “Clarissa.” I went to the hall and picked up the phone. “Hello,” I said.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Leroy,” said Clarissa. “I wanted to speak to Peter.”
“This is Peter,” I said.
“My goodness!” said Clarissa. “I didn’t recognize your voice. You sound so grown-up on the phone. Say something else.”
“Uh—what should I say?”
“That’s amazing!” she declared. “You sound so strong and firm. Of course, that’s the way you sounded this afternoon, when you were on the stage. I was really impressed. I think everybody else was, too.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” she said. She delivered the words with lots of air, making herself sound out of breath, as if she’d been running. “Well—how have you been?”
“I’m still okay,” I said.
“What do you mean, you’re still okay?” she asked.
“Huh?” I said. I felt as if I’d heard her for the first time. I realized that I’d been preoccupied with the idea of Spike’s breaking my foot with a brick or Veronica’s showing up at the back door with my underpants in her hand. “Oh,” I said. “I—I mean nothing happened to me on the way home from school or anything.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Clarissa said. She sounded bewildered. Then she took a deep breath, and with even more air than before she said, “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve missed me?” I asked. “You mean since three o’clock?”
“I feel as if I haven’t seen you for days,” she said. “I miss your smile. You have that cute little dimple.”
“I do?” I said. I tried to drag the phone over to the hall mirror.
“Oh, yes!” she said. “In fact, you have one-and-a-half dimples. One on the right side, and a half on the left.”
“Is that bad?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I think it’s cute.”
“Hold on a minute, Clarissa,” I said. “I want to go look in the mirror.”
I started to put the handset down, but I heard her calling to me. “Peter, wait. Don’t go away. I want to invite you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” I asked, and I brightened at once.
“Tomorrow night,” said Clarissa. “I hope you’re not doing anything then.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “I’m not doing anything.”
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🎧 148: I walked home quickly ...