"Of course you will," Brenda said. "We all will."
When Brenda said it, it sounded like a command. We'll be fine whether we like it or not, I thought,
The school was lite
rally ten minutes away by car. It was in a building that looked much alder than other schools I had seen in the city, but it was in a convenient location. It had a population of nearly twelve hundred students, grade nine through grade twelve. The principal was an African American woman named Dr. Carol DeBerry. She couldn't have been more than five-foot-one, but she had a nononsense, firm demeanor that left me thinking I had been speaking to a woman six feet tall. One of the most surprising things I learned immediately was that I would have to wear a school uniform. The shirts and blouses had to be white, which was my worst color. It made me look even more overweight than I was. so I always avoided it. The blouses had to have collars and sleeves. Dr. DeBerry thought white blouses with Peter Pan collars were the best. Peter Pan collars, she explained, were flat collars with rounded ends that met in front. She spent so much time talking about the uniform I thought it was more important than grades in her school.
"Sweaters, sweatshirts, cardigans, and lightweight jackets are now permitted to be worn over the uniform top, but they must be either white, tan, navy blue, or black. Skirts and jumpers must be black, tan, or navy blue. We expect them to be knee- length or longer. I can tell you now that denim jeans and tightfitting or baggy pants are not acceptable." she said, looking disdainfully at mine. "Your shoes should not have heels higher than an inch and a half. You can wear tennis shoes. We do not want to see any manufacturer's logos, names, pictures, or insignias on the clothing," she added, which eliminated my favorite sweatshirt. "We do not permit our students to wear their heavy jackets or rain' coats during the school day.
"Here is a list of items we do not want you to bring to school. Notice we've included radios of any kind. A sharp instrument of any kind will result in your immediate suspension and perhaps criminal prosecution. There is no point in bringing cigarettes into the building. Smoking is punishable with suspension, and any violation of our behavioral rules, vandalism. violent actions, and use of profanity could result in expulsion. Is all this clear to you?"
"Yes." I said.
"Good. We've ordered your transcripts, and your schedule is arranged. Since you're not in a proper school uniform. I cannot permit you to begin today." she concluded.
Brenda's mouth dropped open. "But we didn't know. and..."
"Well, now you know. Here's a list of stores in the immediate area that will have the proper clothing." She looked at her watch. "If you purchase what you need and can return by noon. I'll permit her to begin her afternoon classes."
She smiled as if she had granted us pardon from a death sentence and expected exaggerated
expressions of gratitude. Brenda took the list.
"C'mon." she said to me. "We'll be back before noon," she told the principal.
"Very good," Dr. DeBerry said, holding her smile.
"Uniforms!" I moaned as we left the office. "And white, I look terrible in white."
"It will give you more motivation to lose weight," Brenda commented. She looked at her watch, "Let's get this done. I want to get to my one o'clock today, and I have to see the coach after my last class in the afternoon.'"
When we arrived at the store. I wanted to buy an extra-large long-sleeve blouse with a Peter Pan collar. but Brenda insisted I take the medium, which was closer to my size. The rolls of fat around my waist were emphatically visible. I made Brenda buy me an "acceptable" vest that went with a navy blue knee-length skirt. I already had on a pair of tennis shoes.
We rushed back to the school to have Dr. DeBerry look at my clothing and give me the stamp of approval. She made us wait in the outer office for nearly twenty minutes. I thought Brenda would have an angry fit and let the principal have it between the eyes, but she swallowed down her rage when we were finally permitted to enter for my fashion show.
"Very good," Dr. DeBerry said, and asked her secretary to provide me with my class schedule card. Brenda rushed off without saying good-bye. Dolores Donovan, a senior girl on office duty during her free period, was then assigned to give me a quick tour of the building and escort me to my next class, which was American history.
To me, it seemed more as if her assignment was to write my biography. Practically even- five feet, she had another question. Of course, there were the usual "Where are you from? When did you move here? Why? What was your school like? Your friends? Are you upset about moving?" I was as vague as I could be, telling her only that we moved because of family matters. However, she was relentless.
"Who was that girl who brought you? Why didn't your father or mother bring you?"
She cornered me into telling her some of the truth. I told her how Daddy had died and then how my mother suffered heart failure. Heart failure was a good description for someone's death. I thought. Everyone accepted it. and I certainly didn't want anyone here to know that Mama had committed suicide. I wasn't ashamed of her. but I knew how that would color the way everyone looked at me. and I already had two strikes against me because of my weight and because I had no living parents. Even now. I thought to myself, even under these circumstances, it was still so important to be accepted, to find friends, to not be the object of ridicule. It surprised me how much I really still cared.
"Oh. How horrible for you and your sister." Dolores said. Before the school day was to end, most everyone in every one of my classes knew what Dolores knew,
For the time being, at least. I thought, no one would make fun of my weight. I could hide behind pity and sympathy. Was that awful of me? Maybe I could drop some pounds before anyone mean could use me as a target. I hoped. Living with Brenda would make it easier. She was sure to inspect every food item in the cabinets. Who knew? She might even keep track of the sugar, measuring it nightly. Maybe that was what I needed in the end: someone to take control of me. Half the time. I ate out of boredom. It was up to me now to avoid being bored.
I considered the after-school activities and thought I might join beginners' chess. I favored board games but had never taken the time to learn chess. Daddy told me he played somewhat, but he was never eager to teach me, claiming he wasn't very good at it because he lacked the patience. The only board game I ever got Brenda to play was checkers, of course. However, she thought sitting on her rear end for longer than ten minutes was degenerative and blamed my failure to lose weight partly on that. Nevertheless, before the school day ended for me. I signed up to join the beginners' chess club, which was meeting the next day. It met twice a week.
None of the other students were in a hurry to get to know me, which didn't surprise me. I caught some vaguely curious looks in my afternoon classes. The teachers introduced me, but no one came rushing up at the bell to make friends. As in my old school, other students were comfortable in their little cliques. Some friendships had been built over time and were not easily invaded. I understood. but I couldn't help being envious. Other than my teachers. Dolores was practically the only one who spoke to me the entire afternoon.
Celia was waiting for me in the parking lot when the school day ended. She was bright and full of energy and excitement. I knew it was a show to help me feel good about the move and the new school. I was quite aware of what she was doing, but it was difficult for me to be cheerful. I imagined I looked pretty unhappy.
"This is a very nice place!" she declared, standing outside the car and gazing about, "And it's so close to us. You could practically walk here. When the weather gets better, maybe you should.'
"Who told you to say that. Brenda?"
"No, why?" she asked, holding her smile.