The Face on the Wall(36)

“Sure,” said Annie, laughing. “And you’d better hurry. That vine crawling up her arm is poison ivy.”

They didn’t warn Minnie Peck that Millennial Woman was coming, not until they had dumped Min’s giant work of art onto the bed of the rented truck with a clatter of colliding hubcaps. Only then, as Flimnap climbed into the driver’s seat, did Annie phone Minnie to say her colossal sculpture was on its way home.

Minnie was furious, but there was nothing she could do. She had to clear a space in the middle of her studio, where she was welding together another enormous work of art.

As they backed up to her loading platform, she turned off her blowtorch and took off her welder’s mask. “Hi there,” she said, cheering up at once when she saw Flimnap O’Dougherty. “Come on up. Meet Millennial Man.”

Annie gaped. Feebly she said, “Wow.” Millennial Man was a construction of identical TV sets tuned to the same boxing match. All seventeen televisions had been glued and screwed together into a vague suggestion of the human body. Halfway down between the legs dangled a remote control and a couple of sponge-rubber balls. Minnie was launching herself fearlessly into the next thousand years.

Flimnap studied the seventeen screens, as blow after blow landed on bleeding flesh and the bloodthirsty crowd roared. “They’re on a loop, right? So it plays the same thing over and over?”

Minnie had taken a fancy to Flimnap. “O’Dougherty, I need you,” she said boldly. “Why don’t you stay and give me a hand? I’m great on the creative side, but the engineering follow-through gives me a hard time.” She glanced at Annie and said slyly, “Surely Annie doesn’t need you anymore, and anyway housepainting isn’t worthy of you at all. My stuff is art.”

There could be two opinions about that, thought Annie, as they got to work removing Millennial Woman from the truck. With a racket of dingdonging hubcaps, they soon had her standing erect next to Millennial Man.

“Oh, don’t they look darling together!” screamed Minnie.



When Annie got home again she found Eddy Gast high up on her scaffolding, smiling down at her. He said a cheerful, “Hello, Annie!” and bounced on the wooden boards, which boomed and slid a little sideways.

She was dismayed. “Oh, Eddy, how did you get in? Come on down. Here, let me help you.”

He had a picture in his hand. Clutching it, he was clumsy on the ladder. Annie supported him, and set him safely on the floor, and scolded him for coming in when she wasn’t there.

But she couldn’t be mad at Eddy for long. Joyfully he beamed at her and showed her the picture. It was Mother Goose astride a majestic bird, its wings spread wide over constellations of stars.

“Oh, Eddy,” she said, “how marvelous.”





Chapter 27



“I will sing to you of the happy ones and of those that suffer. I will sing about the good and the evil, which are kept hidden from you.”

Hans Christian Andersen, “The Nightingale”




Cissie Aufsesser was astonished when Charlene Gast spoke to her in school. Normally Charlene looked right through her, as though she were invisible, when actually Cissie was a solid mound of a girl, twenty-five pounds overweight.

“That’s cool,” Charlene said, staring at the brand-new camera hanging on a strap around Cissie’s neck. “Is it automatic?”

“Oh, yes, Charlene,” said Cissie. “It does everything. You just aim it and click.” She took it off her neck and pushed a button to uncover the lens. “See, you just look through here.” She handed the camera to Charlene, who lifted it to her face. “You don’t even have to decide whether you need the flash or not. If it’s too dark, the flash goes off by itself.”

Charlene turned the camera over in her hand, then gave it back to Cissie. “It’s really cool,” she said again.

“Want me to take your picture?” said Cissie, greatly daring.

“Okay,” said Charlene. She stood smiling while Cissie fumbled with the camera, her fingers trembling.

Charlene did not offer to take Cissie’s picture. “Thanks,” she said, turning away quickly. Wistfully Cissie watched her run away across the playground to Becca and Joanna and Carrie. Should Cissie offer to take everybody’s picture Maybe they would talk to her if she took their picture. Everybody liked to have their picture taken. In fact, although Cissie didn’t know it, her father had hoped his gift of a camera would improve her social standing.

But now she hung back. She was too shy.

“What a nice camera, Cissie,” said Mary Kelly, who had seen her with Charlene. “May I take your picture?”