“Musicals can be very beautiful,” said Mom. “If Renata gets a part, it will be a great honor. I will be very proud.”
I tossed and turned for hours that night. I kept checking the time. Twelve
AM.
One
AM.
I have to get some sleep I kept thinking, but the more I thought about sleep, the slower it came. Images of me as Maria in
The Sound of Music
danced through my head. Images of Karin laughing at me danced alongside them.
I tried my new mantra a dozen times.
Don't let her bother you. Don't let her bother you
. And finally it must have worked because the next thing I knew it was morning.
I caught the bus and ran the two blocks to school. I wanted to get to the bulletin board before a big crowd gathered. I wanted to see the posting before Karin and her friends arrived. But I was too late. Karin was in the front row.
“Hurrah. I'm a nun!” shouted Cheryl.
There were so many kids huddled around the bulletin board, I couldn't see a thing.
“Hey, you're a nun too and you're also the lead's understudy,” Cheryl told Karin.
“Great,” said Karin, sarcastically.
Cheryl ignored the acid in Karin's voice.
“I always liked the nuns' parts. It's
going to be so much fun acting in the play,” said Cheryl.
“Maybe for you,” said Karin. “Ms. Watson is
so
ridiculous. I hear she often gives out good parts to people she feels sorry for. Who does she think she is, some kind of saint? It's so stupid to ruin the play with mediocre talent.”
I knew then, as if it had been announced over a loud speaker or lit up in blazing neon, that I had the part of Maria. I wanted to leap up and dance, but there was no room in the thick crowd to even wiggle.
“Hey, Liz's friend Renata is Maria,” said Cheryl. “That's cool.”
“Cool?” said Karin. “It's pathetic.” Then Karin pushed her way out of the crowd and stomped off.
“Did you hear that Renata?” said Liz, elbowing me excitedly. “You're Maria! You got the part!”
“Come on,” I said as kids drifted to class and the crowd thinned out. “I want to see this with my own eyes.”
We still had to tiptoe to see over Pat Pomeroy and Lenore White's heads, but at least I could read the first line and that's where it was.
“Yes!” I shouted, high-fiving Liz.
“Hey congratulations,” said Lenore and Pat in front of me.
“Thanks,” I said.
I couldn't wait to tell Mom, but I couldn't call her at work. She was at Ms. Powell's today. Ms. Powell didn't like personal calls at her house, and Mom didn't have a cell phone yet.
The rest of the day was a dream. Kids who didn't know I existed before said “Hi, Renata” and “Congratulations.” Ms. Watson stopped me in the hall and said, “I knew as soon as I heard you sing that you were perfect for Maria.”
I wanted to hug her, but all I could sputter was, “Thank you. I'm really happy.”
And I was happier than I'd been all year.
At the end of the day I ran to my locker, eager to get home and tell Mom about the part. I was slipping on my jacket when I heard Karin.
“My new watch is gone!” she screamed. “I took it off at lunch because the band was making my arm itchy. I left it on the shelf in my locker but I was in such a hurry, I must have left my locker unlocked. And now it's gone. Someone took it. It cost a fortune. It's a designer watch.”
“That's terrible,” said Darleen. “Who could have taken it?”
“I bet I know who took it.”
“Who?” asked Darleen.
“That Renata something or other. You know the one whose mother is a cleaning lady. I saw her hovering around my locker at lunch. Of course, I didn't think anything of it then but now. Now...”
“You don't think she really took it?” asked Darleen. “She'd be in such trouble
and maybe get expelled. And she just got the part of Maria in the play.”
“There was absolutely no one else around. She must have seen me take the watch off and put it on the shelf,” said Karin. “And she's sneaky. You can see it in her eyes. She's probably sold my watch already.”
“She seems shy to me,” said Darleen.
“Shy? You've got to be kidding,” said Karin. “If she's so shy, she wouldn't have tried out for the play and shown off like that in the auditorium. Just because she sings loud, doesn't mean she sings well.”
My heart pounded as Karin droned on. I couldn't move. I hid behind my locker door and prayed they'd go away.
I hadn't been anywhere near Karin's locker at lunch. I'd been in the library the whole time, but no one saw me. The helper never looked up from the computer, and Ms. Dunn wasn't there until the last fifteen minutes.
I had no alibi. It was Karin's word against mine.
“Renata, I'm so proud,” said Mom.
Her face was glowing. I hadn't seen her so happy since the day she got the papers allowing us to stay in our new country.
“I wish your grandparents were alive to see you. You know Grandma had a lovely voice like you.”
Mom was always telling me stories of how Grandpa fell in love with Grandma
when he heard her sing from the balcony of her apartment. She made it sound like a scene from
Romeo and Juliet
.
Both my grandparents died three years ago. Mom never forgave herself for not being there, but they both had sudden heart attacks a week apart.
“I will buy a special dress to go to the play,” said Mom, “and I will buy Lucas a new shirt and pants.”
“I don't want to dress up,” complained Lucas. “What's wrong with my black pants?”
“Just three holes and a ripped seam,” I said.
“I like it that way. It's cool,” said Lucas. Cool was Lucas's favorite word.
I didn't tell Mom about Karin's accusations. I had tried all evening to block Karin's words out of my mind. I hoped they'd just blow away like a storm.
“I'll be late tonight. Rehearsals start today,” I told Mom the next morning.
“Boa Sorte. Good luck,” she told me in Portuguese and English as she scurried
around making beds and lunches. Then she was out the door with Lucas.
I nibbled my Cornflakes and imagined myself on stage, my voice filling every corner of the auditorium. I imagined the audience hushed like in a cathedral, listening to me sing. I imagined Mom in the front row, beaming like she'd just won the lottery.
I stood up to refill my bowl, when I noticed the clock. Nuts! I only had a few minutes to catch the bus. I was huffing like an old broken-down engine, when I slid into my seat in history. Mr. Brewster walked in a minute later.
“Your assignment on the French Revolution is due next week,” he reminded us.
Then he began to talk about Queen Marie Antoinette of France. He told us how privileged her life had been compared to the lives of peasants in France. He told us that she never said those famous words, “Let them eat cake,” when she was told that the peasants had no bread. He told us that she wasn't evil but
was caught up in rumors and the revolution that was sweeping across France. He asked us if we thought she behaved in an aristocratic manner because of the way she was brought up.
Donald Defoe waved his hand in the air before Mr. Brewster was finished.
“She wasn't blind,” said Donald. “She lived in a palace, not on the moon. She had to know people were starving. Being brought up rich is no excuse.”
“Maybe she just didn't know what to do,” said Jennifer McRae. “Maybe she didn't have enough power as queen. After all, in those days the King was in charge.”
“All good points to consider,” said Mr. Brewster. “When you go home, read about the diamond necklace affair, and then tomorrow we can talk about how rumors can flourish and destroy people's lives. Even the lives of queens.”
Mr. Brewster got us all buzzing about Marie Antoinette. I hadn't thought much about her before. I knew that she was
the queen who was beheaded during the French Revolution, but what kind of person was she? And what was this whole business about rumors?
I was certainly getting to know a lot about that subject, although I hoped Karin's rumor wouldn't get me beheaded.
“Renata Nunes. Please come to the office at lunch.” Ms. Bartlett's crisp, officious voice blasted over the intercom.
My heart almost stopped. What was that about? I'd never been called to the office before. Had something happened to Mom or Lucas? Or had Karin told the principal I stole her watch? If it was about Mom or Lucas, I probably would have been asked to go to the office immediately rather than at lunch. It had to be about Karin. Why did she have to make my life so miserable? She had a good life, a big house and friends. What did she need to hassle me for?
There was still fifteen minutes left in class, so I said my
don't let her bother you
mantra twice and tried to pay attention
to the debate about Marie Antoinette. But this time nothing worked. I didn't care about Marie Antoinette. I didn't care about anything except what I was going to encounter in the office and what I would I say.
All I had was the truth, but was the truth enough? Certainly not enough to prevent me from getting in trouble. Certainly not enough to stop the whole school from talking about me. Possibly not enough to let me keep what I now wanted most of allâto be Maria in the play.
“Renata,” said Mr. Bowman slowly, as if he was counting each word. “I called you into the office because of a complaint made by another student. Karin Walters' watch is missing, and she claims you stole it. She says she saw you in the vicinity of her locker at the time she inadvertently left her locker open. As I said to Karin, that is circumstantial evidence at best,
but I feel it's my duty to speak to you about the matter.”
“I didn't take her watch,” I blurted out.
“I understand this is distressing to you,” said Mr. Bowman. “It distresses me too. You have no record of misbehavior, but I must tell you Karin was quite convinced of your guilt.”
Mr. Bowman was distressed! Ha! It wasn't his neck on the line. He didn't care about me. I remembered how abrupt he was when I first registered at the school with Mom.
“Will you be able to arrive at school on time?” he had asked me then. “The school is some distance from your ... apartment.” He knew we weren't part of the upscale neighborhood the school was located in.
“I'll be on time,” I had barked at him. Mom said she could hear the anger in my voice.
“You have to be careful,” she cautioned me when we left his office. “When you're poor and an immigrant you have to be
especially careful of your behavior. People make judgments.”
“I don't care,” I told her defiantly. “He can think whatever he wants. I have every right to go to this school. Just as much right as the rich kids.”
Despite my words I knew Mom was right. It just wasn't fair. Why did people judge Karin and me differently? If I had accused Karin with no evidence would Karin be hauled into the office? Or would Mr. Bowman assume that because her family has money that she wouldn't possibly steal?
Just because you have money doesn't mean you won't steal. What about those heads of companies who take huge salaries and bonuses when their companies are losing money and lower level employees are being fired? Isn't that stealing? The newspapers were full of stories about people like that. What about famous actresses who shoplift? They don't need the stuff they take, but they take things anyway.
“I accept your words,” said Mr. Bowman, “but I can't close the matter yet. Stealing is a serious offense. If you have anything more to tell me on the subject, I hope you will.”
“I don't,” I said. I knew I sounded angry, but I couldn't help it. Mr. Bowman thought I was guilty and that I needed to confess. How dare he?
“Good day to you then,” he said, dismissing me.
I walked out shaking, less because of Karin than because of Mr. Bowman. To him, I was half-guilty just because Karin had accused me.
Perhaps I should have told him why Karin wanted to get me in trouble. But I had no evidence, just a feeling that Karen wanted me out of the play so she could have my part. How could anyone be that awful? A wave of anger hit me so hard I felt nauseous. Suddenly I wanted to run away from school. I wanted to hide from the people, accusing me with the look in their eyes. I
knew that Karin was not going to give up.
It sounded like a plot in a movie. Maybe it was a movie. Only I wished I wasn't starring in it.
I sat at the kitchen table and put down the book about Marie Antoinette and the French Revolution I'd just read. It threw everything I believed out the window.
Marie Antoinette was hated not just because she was a rich aristocrat but because she was a foreigner â an Austrian princess married to the French King.
Marie Antoinette even dressed more simply so she wouldn't be considered
frivolous and flighty, but the French people still hated her. What really sealed her fate, though, were vicious rumors, especially the diamond necklace affair Mr. Brewster had mentioned.
A Cardinal de Rohan got mixed up with a con artist, Madame La Motte, who pretended to be Marie Antionette. Madame La Motte told the Cardinal that she (the queen) wanted a very expensive necklace. The Cardinal wanted to gain the queen's favor, so he bought the necklace and gave it to Madame La Motte, assuming Marie Antionette would pay for it.
Of course, Marie Antoinette knew nothing about the necklace, and Madame La Motte had no intention of paying for it. Instead Madame La Motte gave the necklace to her con artist husband who sold it in London.
When the truth finally came out, Madame La Motte was arrested, imprisoned, and even flogged and branded. Eventually she escaped to London where
she spread nasty rumors about Marie Antoinette. Although it was proven in court that Marie Antoinette had nothing to do with the whole business, the people in France still believed she was guilty. The mob dragged her to the guillotine. She faced her fate bravely, but they still hated her and then they beheaded her.