got at the costume store make the geese look slutty (as does their prancing and hip-wiggling) and judging by the jealous faces of Wilbur and Charlotte and the rest of the cast, I’m pretty sure I went too far in my attempt to make up for the geese having no lines. It seemed like such a brilliant idea at three in the morning when I was mucking around on YouTube and convinced myself that Katy Perry naked, draped in nothing but a cloud covering her ass, was a post-postfeminist statement.
I start thinking up excuses for why I have to leave before the play is over. For some reason, they are all tooth- related. I was eating caramels and my crown just fell off. I was eating a bagel and a piece of crust impaled my gum.
I can hear twitters and whispers coming from the parents as the geese wind up their number, which includes lining up like the Rockettes, arms slung around each other and seductively blowing kisses to the audience. The geese finish their song, adding a cheeky little butt swivel. Limp applause and the geese prance off the stage. Oh, Jesus, God. Helicopmama is right; I have been doing this for far too long. Then I see the boy who played Wilbur holding a bouquet of carnations. Next I am pushed onstage, where the bouquet is shoved in my arms. I turn to face an audience of mostly disapproving faces, except for three: the mothers of the geese, one of whom is a beaming Mrs. Norman, who seems to have forgiven me for accusing her of being a pothead.
“Well,” I say, “
It feels like this.
“I want to thank you for trusting me to look after your children. It’s not always easy being a drama teacher. Life isn’t fair. We aren’t all equal. Somebody has to have the bit part. And somebody has to be the star. I know we live in a time where we try and pretend this isn’t true.”
Parents are packing up their video cameras and leaving.
“We try and shield our kids from disappointment. From seeing things they shouldn’t see before their time. But we must be realistic. There are bad things out there. Especially on the Internet. Why, just the other day my son-my point is you can’t let them watch a movie and then fast-forward through the scary parts. Am I right?”
The auditorium is nearly empty now. Mrs. Norman waves at me from the front row.
“Okay, so thank you all for coming. Um-have a great summer and see you next year!”
“When will the DVD be available?” asks Mrs. Norman. “We’re so proud of Carisa. Who knew she was such a little dancer? I’d like to order three copies.”
“The DVD?” I ask.
“Of the play,” she says. “You did have it professionally taped, didn’t you?”
She can’t be serious. “I saw lots of parents taping the performance. I’m sure somebody will be happy to send you a copy of the tape.”
She shakes her head gravely. “Carisa, go get your backpack. I’ll meet you out front.”
We both watch as Carisa sashays away.
“That wig was a mistake, I’m sorry.”
“What are you talking about? The geese stole the show,” says Mrs. Norman. “The wigs were brilliant. As was the song choice.”
“You didn’t think it was a bit-mature?”
Mrs. Norman shrugs. “It’s a new world. Eight is the new thirteen. Girls are getting breasts in fourth grade. She’s already begging me for a bra. They make them in very small sizes, you know. Tiny. Padded. So cute. So, look, I want to apologize for what happened the other week. You took me by surprise. I wanted to thank you. I’m very grateful you did what you did.”
Finally, some gratitude!
“You’re very welcome. I’m sure any mother would have done the same thing had they been in my shoes.”
“So where and when can I meet you? I know we shouldn’t do this at school.”
“I think we’re okay,” I say. The auditorium is empty. “Nobody can hear us.”
“You want to do this now? You’ve been carrying it around? In your purse,” she points to my shoulder bag. “Great!” She holds out her hand and then retracts it quickly. “Maybe we should go backstage.”
This woman thinks I still have her pot? “Uh, Mrs. Norman? I don’t have your-
“You threw it away? That was nearly a thousand dollars’ worth!”
I look at her indignant, entitled moon face and I think of Researcher 101, which gives me confidence to
“Mrs. Norman, I’ve had a very difficult day. It was wrong of me to have the girls perform ‘California Geese.’ I apologize for that and really, really hope you don’t buy Carisa a bra. She’s far too young and as far as I can see has no breasts whatsoever. Perhaps you should have a conversation with your daughter about the trauma she incurred in finding your stash of illicit drugs instead of talking with me about how you can get it back. She’s a really sweet kid, and she’s confused.”
“What gives you the right?” Mrs. Norman hisses.
“Tell her something. Anything. Just address it. She won’t forget about it. Believe me.”
I play my music at top volume in the car to calm myself down, but
“I don’t think she’s bulimic,” says Caroline, poking her head into the room. “You’d know if she were purging.”
“Yes, well, there are two Yodels missing,” I say.
“You’ve been counting them?”
“And I always hear the water running in the bathroom when she’s in there.”
“That doesn’t mean she’s throwing up. She probably doesn’t like people to hear her pee. I’ve been watching her. She’s not a puker. I don’t think she’s bingeing on Yodels, I really don’t, Alice. She just doesn’t fit the profile.”
I give Caroline a hug. I love having her here. She’s smart, funny, brave, creative, and kind: exactly the sort of young woman I hope Zoe will grow up to be.
“Ever had a Yodel?” I ask.
Caroline shakes her head. Of course she hasn’t.
I toss her one.
“I’ll save it for later,” says Caroline, frowning at the packaging.
“Give it back. I know you’re not going to eat it.”
Caroline wrinkles her nose. “You’re right, I’m not going to eat it, but my mother will-you know how she loves junk food. She and my dad are coming to visit. Yodels have no expiration date, right?”
“Bunny’s coming to Oakland?”
“We spoke this morning. They just decided.”
“Where are they staying?”
“I think they’re planning on renting a house.”
“Absolutely not. That’s too expensive. They can stay here. You can sleep in Zoe’s room and they can have the guest room.”
“Oh, no, she won’t want to impose. You’re already putting me up.”
“It’s no imposition. Actually, it’s selfish on my part-I want to see her.”
“But don’t you need to ask William first?”
“William will be fine with it, I promise.”
“Okay. Well, if you’re sure, I’ll tell her. She’d love that. So Alice, I had a thought. What about if you and I went
