Chapter 3
It doesn't in the least surprise me that Sue Ann is the one who would cause it. What
did throw me for a loop is how and when - a simple white blouse with a pair of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and a set of brown penny loafers at the Harvest Fair. Yet there she was, ogling her unabashedly. I could see her breathing heavily, her face flushed, her hands trembling. Every bit of her body language betrayed that she was heavily flustered. I bet if I had gotten close to her I could have actually heard her heart beating. And yes, the book describes these actions as signs of someone caving in on a major crush.
The jeans were tight on Sue Ann, flattering her wide hips and long legs. The blouse may have been ordinary, but it was somehow provocative - perhaps in the way it perfectly shaped and accentuated the curves of her upper body. Her hair was done nicely but simply, and I noticed that she was only wearing light makeup. I also sensed that I was far from the only one looking. I glanced around and noted that besides Cindy, who was unconsciously sizing her up with a strangle twinkle in her eye, several guys were also gazing her way, hooked by the perfect image of Sue Ann's unintentional sexiness. Cindy was having a hard time speaking. In fact, she was stammering like a stupid fool!
"H-h-hi Sue Ann," she stuttered.
"How are you doing? You look really cute in your outfit," Sue Ann responded, repeating that same caressing hug she had given earlier that day. To the astute observer like me it was clear that what her body was really saying is
"You look so adorable, I just want to squeeze you and never let you go." They continued the embrace… Umm, I mean platonic hug … for what seemed like a long moment, but I noticed Sue Ann catch something in her glance that caused her to let the other girl go abruptly. Sure enough Blair was standing a few feet away sporting a disgusted look on her face that she was making no attempt to hide. Uh oh, I suspect Blair's on to it, which means that this is probably not going to turn out well for anybody - and
especially not for Cindy.
"T-t-thanks. I'm… fine, how are you?"
"I'm fine myself," Sue Ann answered, nervously biting her lip. A blush seemed to be warming her face. In fact, both of them seem racked with nervous tension, and it was obvious to everyone, including Blair! It doesn't help that she's no slouch when it comes to reading people. The whole situation appeared to be making her sick - her eyes were narrowing, she was shaking her head, and she looked like she was gearing up to tear a strip off the two of them…
"Well… I just want to wish you good luck, Cindy."
"Thanks," Cindy gleamed back.
"With my beauty, she'll need more than luck to beat me. Maybe she should go back to Beverly Hills and use the same plastic surgeon that works on Joan Rivers!" Blair suggested haughtily.
"Maybe not - if I give you a black eye, then it would be
you who needs to see a plastic surgeon. Just give me a chance and I'll gladly give you a reason to go visit Madison Avenue," Sue Ann threatened in an angry whisper, inching closer to Blair.
"You don't have the guts to do it, you Neanderthal hick!" Blair derided. While her words served as a tough exterior, her body was telling a different tale. That is, based on her trembling fingers and the slight twitch in her knees, I surmised that she was in fact scared as hell. The book states in black and white that any type of total body shaking is a sign of nervousness. It seemed to be getting ugly, so I stepped in to put a stop to it.
"Okay, you two, stop it!" I yelled, inserting my body between the two of them. "Blair, why don't you go back to where you came from? We were doing fine until you brought your snout around here." I couldn't resist the Miss Piggy dig. Thank God she didn't catch on…or did she?
"Fine, I'll leave. It was getting boring anyways!" she huffed as she stormed off, her heels clicking angrily. In Blair's absence Sue Ann switched her focus back to Cindy, and I could tell by the way those two were looking at each other that they were anywhere but on this planet. For a moment I debated whether I should interrupt them, or just observe them some more. I decided on the latter.
"Thanks for standing up for me. She was getting on my nerves," Cindy stated in a tone of obvious relief.
"She gets on everybody's nerves. She doesn't know when to stop," Sue Ann replied. Her irritation and anger towards Blair was written all over her face.
All of a sudden Mr. Bradley's voice cut in, piped through the PA system. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Harvest Fair pageant will begin in 30 minutes. All contestants must come to the podium immediately."
"Well, good luck!" Sue Ann chimed, giving Cindy yet another squeeze.
"Thanks," Cindy responded as she returned the gesture. The hug wasn't as long or affectionate as before, but after it broke they gazed at each other for a good second before Cindy turned on her heel and strode towards the podium. Watching the two I sensed that I really needed to help them. Something inside of me told me that they were meant to be together - maybe not forever as in some old fairy-tale story - but definitely right now, in 1979.
"Hello folks, and welcome to the 1979 Harvest Fair Pageant sponsored by Abraham & Straus - NYC's #1 department store! I'm your emcee for today, Steven Bradley, and I am here to help answer the question we've all been waiting for: who will be this year's Harvest Queen!? Will it be a triple championship for the reigning Blair Warner?" He paused to allow the applause that erupted as Blair smiled and waved to the spectators, balancing her relish with a contrived expression of modesty. "Or will it be one of our two other challengers?" This last question also incited some applause, especially from me. Cindy stood happily waving to the crowd, and it pleased me to see her in such a happy mood.
"Okay, let's begin. First up is a tenth grader from Alberta, Canada, eh?" That got a few laughs from the audience, while the contestant herself shot him a dismissive glance. "Sorry about that, I couldn't help myself." The crowd chuckled. "Let's give a big hand for Kerry Andries!" The audience honored his request as the medium-height, longhaired, brunette paraded around the platform in her flowery bell-bottomed jumper suit. She strutted stylishly up and down the stage to show off her beauty as though she were on a catwalk in one of those Parisian fashion shows. The audience murmured appreciatively in response to her performance.
A few minutes later it was Cindy's turn. "Thank you very much, Kerry. Now, our second contestant is an eighth grader from Tinseltown itself, Los Angeles, California. Please give a warm round of applause for Cindy Webster!" The crowd put their hands together as they spotted Cindy taking the stage. It was clear by the energy her body was emitting that she was enjoying the attention. He strut was lithe, betraying no nervousness or tension; in fact, the praise and adulation seem to be like a drug for her. Well Cindy, it's no wonder why you like to show-off in softball or any other sport you play. It also explains why you've been so taken with tennis lately - it's mostly a singles event, and so the attention is squarely on you!
Sue Ann was seated not too far from me, and I noticed that Cindy's gaze wandered back to her quite often as if she was screaming,
"Look at me! Can't you see that I'm special!?!"
And the moment that the whole planet was waiting for (or that's what
she thought … it
was none other than Ms. Saks Fifth Avenue herself, Blair Warner, after all) arrived. "And now the final contestant, our two-time defending champion straight from Park Avenue - ninth-grader Blair Warner!" The crowd went crazy when he announced her name, and Blair soaked it up. She gave her trademark smile, and being the professional attention-seeker she was, waved like the Queen Mum. She was just like Cindy, absorbing all the attention like a sponge. You could tell that she was experienced in this sort of thing as she sashayed along the stage and gave her poses confidentially, moving as though she knew she had already bagged it. Watching the display made me more wishful that Cindy would win the pageant. After Ms. Universe-In-Her-Own-Mind finished her walk it was time for the judges to determine the winner.
"And now we will announce the new Miss Harvest Queen of 1979. Third place is..." One of the judges handed the envelope to Mr. Bradley with a dramatic flourish. "Kerry Andries!!!! Congratulations, Kerry!" The girl approached Mr. Bradley and shook his hand, graciously thanking him for the honor.
"And now … will it be the reining two-time champion, Blair Warner, or will it be the challenger, Cindy Webster? Judges?"
The judges put their heads together for a moment as though conspiring or trading last minute comments before one of them handed Mr. Bradley the fateful envelope. He opened it and an unmistakably disgruntled look flitted across his face before he regained his composure and announced: "And the winner is... Third time is indeed the charm …. Blair Warner!"
Blair became ecstatic, and simultaneously I became nauseated. I noticed Mr. Bradley fight off another sneering scowl, indicative of just how much he hadn't wanted her to win either. I chuckled to myself, as his reaction was just plain funny.
Blair took her win like she does everything else - she made a super big deal about it. She smiled her cheesy smile and acted like she was totally surprised. After a moment or two of initial celebration and glory basking she approached the mic and gave her usual crap.
"Thank you very much, thank you. It is such an honor to win the pageant in front of you wonderful people. I am so shocked to have won Harvest Queen for a third time in a row. Well, I suppose 'shock' is not the right word, maybe what I really mean is that I am in awe of, well, myself I guess!" She paused for a second at that, primping her hair and grinning. "I'd like to thank all the little people who have supported me through my reign as Harvest Queen...you all know who you are, and there are just so many of you, so there is no need to rattle off names -- that will just bore you," she waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, back to my victory. I would also like to thank my challengers for competing against me this year. I know they put a lot of effort into it, but unfortunately in such events there can only be one winner. And, fortunately enough, it was me." She gave her phony polite smile to both Cindy and Kerry as she said this. Cindy had a steamed look on her face as she glared coldly in return, and I couldn't blame her. I myself wanted to slap Blair's phony smile right off her face to end her façade, and I hadn't even been a competitor.
"It's hard to be humble when you are as blessed as I am, but I truly am. I would like to thank nature for giving me the beauty that I have. When you're as perfect as I am, things seem to go…" Suddenly Mr. Bradley grabbed the microphone from her. Thank goodness.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Blair protested, "I'm not finished yet!"
"Yes, yes you are. Thank you for coming out to the Harvest Fair Pageant. Enjoy the rest of your day and the Fair's festivities. Goodbye, everyone!"
Cindy stood dejectedly on the stage as she watched Blair smiling and posing in front of the photographers. The third-place girl turned to Cindy and asked, "Can you believe this? She talks about how nature gave her that so-call beauty, and yet she's not even a natural blond!"
Not breaking even a millimeter of her frown, Cindy retorted, "Yeah, just about everything about her is fake..."
Mr. Bradley approached the two girls a few seconds later. Later on she relayed their conversation back to me.
"Don't let it get to you, you'll have a better chance next year," he had said encouragingly.
"Another year for Blair to beat me, you mean?" Cindy had answered sourly.
"Come on, Cindy, you have to think positively! I remember when I came in 2nd place for the Twist contest during my first year at Allegheny Teacher's College. And quite frankly, I too felt dejected."
"The Twist? You mean that old dance?"
"Old!?! Why, that was the greatest dance of the 20th century. It was way better than any of that modern fancy-schmancy stuff John Travolta and Deney Terrio have come up with! Anyhow, the winner had taken first prize twice before, just like Blair. It didn't get any better in the following year - I did even worse, coming in 3rd. But in my junior year I was finally able to win it." He emphasized his junior year triumph with a small air punch.
"Wow, that's great!" Cindy had chirped back, but in the back of her mind she was thinking
"I guess, if you consider a silly dance to be a crowning achievement..."
"But the point I'm trying to make here, Cindy, is that as long as you are living, you will always have another chance to win, but
only if you go out and try. The only time you will never have that chance is when you
don't go out and try. Get my drift?"
"Yes, I do Mr. Bradley. Thanks for your encouragement."
"No problem, that's what I'm here for," he had responded, straightening his tie in satisfaction of a job well done.
"But, Mr. Bradley, what happened in your senior year. Did you defend your title?"
"Unfortunately, no. I sprang my hip and dislocated my shoulder when I participated in a 'how many students can you fit into a Volkswagen Beetle' contest."
"Huh?"
"It's a sixties thing, don't worry about it."
"Oh... well okay, thanks..."
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It was a bit of a downer for Cindy. She had wanted to win so badly, and accordingly had put a lot of time and effort into it. Yet she still ended up short. Wretched and furious, she kicked the dirt on the ground and grunted in anger. I don't think I need to use any book references to explain to you how she was feeling. I tried to give her some comforting support, but it was tough going. Did I ever tell you guys how competitive she is? You should see her in a game of Monopoly (by the way, she always insists on being the Top Hat … I wonder what that means?)!
"Don't let it get to you, Cindy, the contest was pretty much rigged. One of the judges works for Warner Textiles," I offered by way of consolation.
"Really? How did you find that out?"
"I heard him on the pay phone talking to Mr. Warner. He didn't think of trying to be more discreet, apparently."
Cindy just smacked her forehead in frustration and groused, "That's great. I just can't win."
A man in a striped tie and tan corduroy jacket strode towards us from out of nowhere and rudely cut into our conversation, totally ignoring me and fixating on Cindy. "I saw your performance today, and I was really impressed. In fact, I think you have
way more panache than that Warner girl."
Cindy smiled, "Really? Do you mean it?"
"Of course I do! Your face is beautiful, and you have great bone structure. Plus, unlike Ms. Warner, your beauty seems to be natural. I think you would do very well in the world of modeling."
"Modeling?" I asked skeptically. I've read plenty of stories in the New York Times about men who pretend to be photographers and agents. They offer promises and success to young girls, purportedly able to fill their dreams, only to do terrible stuff like raping them or taking naked photos of them. I was already weary of him.
"Yes. Here's my card. Contact me if you're interested," he said, and then turned to leave just as quickly as he had arrived.
I looked at the card with Cindy. "Michael Petrie, Ad Exec, Wilmington Modeling," I read out loud.
"Wilmington Model? Isn't that who that model Gia works for?"
"I think so. Then again, I don't know much about modeling," I shrugged. I don't. I really don't. I remembered myself after half a second. "After all, it's
terribly degrading for women. What, parading around all made up, half naked and half sequined for men's enjoyment? No thanks. You'd better think carefully before you go offer yourself as cog in
that machine." The Harvest Queen contest was hardly the same thing, I thought to myself. A respectable contest in a girl's school hosted by the often awkward and blustering Mr. Bradley was no glossy magazine cover - or centerfold!
"Well, nevertheless, this is so awesome!" she exclaimed very excitedly, ignoring my sage advice on the whole creepy industry.
"We need to see if he's at least legit before you go getting all wound up, Cindy. I think my dad knows a lawyer who can track this down," I sighed loudly, taking another opportunity to voice my disapproval. The book says that the sigh is often a sign of passive aggression.
Cindy nodded, "Yeah, I don't want to end up like one of those kids out there. Trust me, I know. I've seen a lot of them in L.A."
I was starting to get thirsty and wanted to change the subject. "Do you want me to get you a soda?"
She shrugged, "I guess that would be nice, but none of that Tab stuff!"
"Yeah, yeah..." I shot back. She hates Tab for some reason.
Shaking my head I walked towards the concession stand stacked high with caramel popcorn and hotdogs in search of non-Tab sodas. As I did, I caught sight of Sue Ann walking towards Cindy out of the corner of my eye.
"I'm still proud of you even though you came in second," she grinned, showing her perfect white teeth. Well, they aren't
totally perfect. She does have quite an overbite.
I was only a few feet away, close enough to see and hear them, but far enough not to be intrusive. I watched them closely, taking note that Cindy blushed after that comment. All the while I pretended to be deeply involved with the sodas.
"Uh... Thanks!"
"Look, next year we'll be more prepared so that we finally can beat her," she said with enthusiasm, trying to awaken Cindy's fighting spirit. It worked - Cindy smiled back, her eyes shining.
"Yeah," she smirked, "so that we won't have to see Blair showing that fake smile of hers for once!"
"Yeah, I'd like that too. But really, you impressed the crowd out there and gave that rich snob a real run for her money today. They truly liked you," Sue Ann enthused, making a point that what Cindy had done was not in vain.
Based on her answer it sounded like Cindy had got the message loud and clear. "I sure did. I think I wowed the crowd more than Blair did, and I really enjoyed it." Yep, I was right about her, she's an attention seeker. "But I was really hoping that you would like it." And there was my proof that the attention she was seeking the most was Sue Ann's!
"I did. I absolutely did," Sue Ann grinned.
She proceeded to hug Cindy for the millionth time that day. I watched carefully, my mind absorbing every detail so that I could later refer to my book in order to consult on my interpretation. The hug was very similar to the one that she had offered when she decided to help Cindy out for the Harvest Queen Pageant, except this one was longer, and it looked like they were holding each other tighter. Further, it seemed that neither wanted to let the other go. I couldn't see what Cindy's face showed from where I was standing, half hidden behind a giant stack of blue cotton candy, but I could clearly see that Sue Ann had her eyes closed the whole time. This is a definite sign of attraction according to the book. I remember reading that when someone closes their eyes for longer than a second or two during a hug it means that they want an intimate connection with the other person. Eventually they let each other go and gave each other that glance again. They're lucky that there weren't of people were around to see it. Their cheeks were as red as Maraschino cherries, the color creeping up from their necks. There was so much 'static electricity' between the two that I bet if I had put a plug from Yankee Stadium between them it would have lit up the entire stadium for a twelve-inning game! I guess that's what they mean when they say 'sparks are flying' in reference to chemistry between a couple.
Both were starting to breathe heavily and neither could muster a word. Eventually Sue Ann managed to speak up. "I-I-I-I've got to help Mrs. Garrett out. I'll see you later."
"Yeah, I'll see you later," Cindy replied with a touch of sadness.
Sue Ann left quickly as though she was ashamed of herself. Cindy looked forlorn as she walked away, fading into the crowd. I saw her mutter something, but I wasn't close enough to catch it. Later she told me what it was she had said -- "She just took my breath away..."
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I stayed late to help clean up, and so I didn't get back to the house until around 9:15 PM. As soon as I walked into the room I heard stirring in the bathroom. It sounded like someone crying, and I easily figured out who it was since Tootie was with Natalie. I didn't want to be nosy like Tootie, but my curiosity got the best of me. I crept slowly towards the door, which was slightly ajar, and snooped -- I mean peeked, I was
not snooping! There she was, sobbing in front of the mirror with makeup running all over her face and a tissue in her right hand. It looked like she had been crying for a while - her face was fully flushed and her eyelids were swollen. She was speaking to her own reflection in the mirror.
"Cynthia Webster, you are
not a normal girl." She paused a bit to sniffle. "You're gay. You like girls, and you're in love with Sue Ann Weaver…"
Continued...