Duckling Ugly

Then he turned, looking for the nearest trash can, but the closest thing he found was, unfortunately, the punch bowl.

I didn't think he would do it, but that kiss must have been so disgusting to him, nothing could stop nature now. And before the whole school, Marshall Astor threw up into the homecoming punch bowl.

10 Tempest and a teapot

I tore out of the party faster than Cinderella at midnight, and I left no shoe behind. I didn't leave those car keys behind, ei­ther; I picked them up before I headed out. The jealousy I felt just moments before had played itself out, and all that remained was humiliation. This time those kids in there hadn't played a trick on me?I had played the trick on myself.

I didn't know who to be more horrified by: myself for what I had done; Marshall, for finding me so utterly repulsive; or my fa­ther, who, in his misguided desire to see me happy, had offered Marshall Astor a used car from his lot in return for taking me to the homecoming dance.

Is that the going rate for spending time with me? I thought. A Chewy for your troubles?

Well, I had the keys to that car now. The lot was speckled with rain, and a chill in the wind made it clear that these were the first drops of a storm. Let it rain, I thought. Let their tai­ lored suits and chiffon dresses get drenched and ruined. Let lightning strike and take down the power, so there'll be no more slow dancing for anyone.

I got behind the wheel and peeled out of that parking lot before anyone could come out and stop me. When Momma had taught me to drive, she angled the mirrors away from me. But these weren't. I caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. It shat­tered. Little bits of glass were next to me on the front seat, and I thought of the sliver of glass Gerardo had kept. Did it mean any­thing at all to him? Did he think of it once while he was in there with his lips firmly pressed against Nikki Smith's freshly cleaned teeth like a sucker fish? The fact that I even cared just made me feel worse.

I knew I couldn't go home. I couldn't face my parents now, especially my father, knowing the part he had played in this. There was only one person to talk to now. The woman whose clouded eyes couldn't see me.

It started to rain heavier, and the windshield wipers pounded out a drumbeat, primal and ominous. Now the tears I'd been holding back?not just today, but all my life?burst from my eyes, so that I could barely see. The tears were full of all the things I could never be. All the dreams denied me because of a face too hideous to see its own reflection.

The sobs came with such strength, I couldn't catch my breath. The tears blurred my vision even more than the rain. I never even saw the gate of Vista View Cemetery until I plowed through it, crashing it open. I flew around the curves of the road winding up the hill and skidded to a halt at the top, right in front of Miss Leticia's house. A white van and an expensive car were in the driveway. I didn't stop to think what they might be doing there. Instead I ran to the front door and pounded and pounded and pounded until she finally answered.

'Cara? What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here, honey, this ain't a good time at all.' She looked careworn in a way I'd never seen before.

'Please, Miss Leticia?let me come in! I have to talk to you, I just have to!'

She looked past me, into the rain. 'You here alone?'

'Yes.'

She sighed. 'All right, then. Come on in?but only for a bit.'

She led me quickly past the darkened living room and into the kitchen. 'Whose cars are out front?' I asked. 'Do you have guests?'

'Yes,' she said. 'Guests.' She pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and practically forced me down into it. 'You sit right here, and I'll be back in a minute. Don't you move from that spot!'

'I won't.'

I was so relieved to be there, out of the rain, away from my life, it didn't hit me how odd she was acting. I was cold and her house was warm, that's all I cared about right then. Then I saw something else that could warm me up. Miss Leticia's tea tray was right there on the kitchen table. I poured myself a cup. The tea was light- colored?not like the tea she usually made. When I picked up the cup, there was no steam coming from it. It was cold. Well, I thought, her tea was something special, hot or cold. I brought it up and smelled it, trying to identify what kind it was. It had a grassy, bitter smell.

Suddenly I heard a scream, and I looked up to see Miss Leti­cia racing toward me. She swung her hand and sent that teacup flying across the room, and it smashed against the wall. I stared at her in shock.

'That tea is not for you!' she said. 'Did you drink any?'

'No,' I said weakly. I was confused and more than a little bit frightened now.

'That's good, then. That's good.' She relaxed. That's when I noticed she had a little wicker suitcase. It had been packed so hastily, the sleeve of a flowery blouse was sticking out of the side. 'Maybe you just better go. I know you got troubles, but so do I. Now's just not a talkin' time.'

My brain, which had been in power-saver mode since I got there, finally kicked in. It wasn't so much the suitcase or even the quivering tone of her voice that clued me in. It was the look on her empty-eyed face. That look spelled a hundred things, none of them good.

'Miss Leticia,' I asked slowly, 'what happened here?'

She clamped her hand over her mouth as if to hold back a wail, then took a deep breath. 'That van is from the hospital. The car belongs to a doctor. I can't recall his name.'

'Hospital?' I said. 'Are you sick?'

'Not that kind of hospital.'

It took a moment, but then I understood. Even before she said it, I knew why they were here.

'My son and that awful wife of his?they signed papers, and had me committed. Didn't even have the decency to come them­selves?they sent the doctor to come here and take me away.' She gripped her arms, obviously cold like me, even in the heat of the room. 'Old age does terrible things to you . . . but the things we do to each other are worse.'

I stood up and looked out the kitchen door toward the dark living room. The truth was dawning on me much faster than I wanted it to. It wasn't just my life that had fallen apart tonight.

Wise and wonderful Miss Leticia Radcliffe suddenly wasn't so wise, and wasn't so wonderful. I took a step forward.

'Don't you go in there!' she shouted.

For a brief instant a lightning flash lit up the living room. I saw a hand hanging over the arm of a high-backed chair. The hand wasn't moving.

'Miss Leticia . . . what did you do?'

And helplessly she said, 'I made them some tea.'

Thunder rolled like the breath of a beast and echoed back from the mountains.

'It was only supposed to put them to sleep, so I would have time to get away,' she said. 'But I used too much lily of the val­ley! I made it too strong.'

I stood there, unable to say anything, because my insides had started a war.

See, there's a part of you that's an enemy of the mind. It's the heart of inspiration and imagination... but it's also the heart of terror and paranoia. That part of me welled up at that awful moment and said to me, This is your fault. You cursed this poor old woman, just like you cursed your family. Your ugliness touched her and grew into this ugliness. No amount of sensible, rational thought was going to make that voice go away.

'Where will you go?'

'I got old friends in old places,' she said. 'I can still catch the late bus if I leave now.'

'I'll drive you!'