That was it, then. No prom for me, just buckets of tears and eyes that stayed red for a week. Of course, for Susannah, who is ten years younger, everything was different. They were no longer doing the twist. Even the Freddy had flopped by then. At Susannah’s prom couples groped and grappled in a dimly lit gym, as thoroughly entwined as a French braid.
By then it was no use asking Mama why Susannah got to go and I didn’t. By then the world had changed too much, and Mama with it. At some point in the interim Mama had cut off the long braids she traditionally wore coiled around her head. I was still recovering from the shock of that when she bought a pair of pants to wear for working in the garden. Had Mama lived longer, she might eventually have worn slacks into town and put on lipstick. I still miss Mama terribly, but there is a part of me that is glad she went when she did. Perhaps it’s unfair of me to say so, but mothers should look and act like mothers, don’t you think?
At any rate, when I awoke that morning, it was because Susannah was shaking me and shouting in my ear.
“Go away,” I said. I turned over on my right side and pulled my pillow over my head.
“If you don’t come with me, then I’ll just go by myself,” Susannah shouted. “Shnookums must be absolutely frantic, not knowing where his mama is.”
“His mama lives in a kennel in New Jersey, Susannah. Why don’t you just write him a letter explaining that?”
“Very funny, Mags. Are you coming with me, or am I driving your car?”
“How did you sleep? Like a lamb?”
“Not bad, although, frankly, I can’t remember anything after Doc said he wanted Shnookums to stay the night. Guess I was kind of tired from all the stress.” Poor Susannah, sometimes it’s not even fun pulling the wool over her eyes. Grudgingly I got up and drove her over to Doc’s. Even before I got out of the car I could hear Shnookum’s high-pitched barks through Doc’s closed door.
Doc was just setting up to perform gall bladder surgery on a sharpei when we arrived, but he seemed glad to see us nonetheless. “About time, ladies. This little dog of yours is anxious to get back home.” Susannah looked at me accusingly, and old Doc looked at Shnookums like he might regard a laboratory rat that had bitten him one too many times.
“How is he?” I asked. It doesn’t hurt to be hopeful.
“He’s as good as can be expected,” said Doc noncommittally.
For the moment at least, Susannah’s mutt looked like the picture of health to me. As soon as he was released from his cage, Shnookums leaped into Susannah’s arms, licked her face a couple of times, and then hopped unceremoniously into the nether reaches of her bosom. I didn’t see him for the rest of the day.
When we got back to the house, I suggested to Susannah that we really ought to take advantage of the peace and quiet by doing a thorough dusting and sweeping of all the public rooms.
“But I promised Melvin I would go with him into Breezewood tonight to see a movie,” my little sister whined. “I need to wash my hair and get ready.”
“Susannah, it’s only eleven o’clock in the morning. You’ll have plenty of time to get ready. And which Melvin is this, anyway? Not Melvin Stoltzfus, our acting Chief of Police?” I was mature enough not to make any reference to the bull who hadn’t liked being milked, and the consequences of that experience.
“Isn’t he dreamy, Mags?”
I rolled my eyes and wrung my hands.
“Well, it’s your fault, Magdalena. I hadn’t seen him for ages, and then you mentioned seeing him yesterday. So, this morning, while you were sleeping, I called him up and asked him out for coffee, and he invited me out for dinner and a movie instead.”
“Why, bite my tongue! But in the meantime, you can help me with the housework, or you’re not going to see one thin dime this week.” Papa, in his wisdom, left the farm to me with the provision that I see to Susannah’s needs until such time as she proved herself competent and productive. If such a day ever comes along, I am morally, if not legally, bound to turn over half the estate to her. So far I haven’t come close to worrying about an impending partnership.
Susannah made one of her defiant faces; one that Mama might have found amusing, but not me. “Okay, if you’ll just chill for a minute. First let me run upstairs to my own room and find Shnookums his binky. I think it might be under the bed someplace.”
I sighed deeply as I acquiesced. A happy Shnookums was a happy Susannah, and if retrieving her dog’s binky from under her bed was what it took to get some work out of her, I could live with that. Even though the very notion of a pooch with a pacifier was beyond my comprehension.