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"Would you do me a favor? Would you go back to the music suite and get my coat for me? I can't put this back on," I said, indicating my sweater. "The odor is too strong."
"What are you going to do?"
"What can I do? I'll go home."
"Oh, no, you can't. You just can't," she said, nearly in tears herself.
"Please, get me my coat, Louise."
She nodded and left, her head down. Poor Louise, I thought. She wanted to be different—she wanted to be nice—but the girls wouldn't let her, and she wasn't strong enough to stand against them.
Oh, why were girls like Clara Sue so cruel? They had so much—all the fancy clothes they wanted; they could get their hair done, their nails done, even their toenails! Their parents took them on wonderful trips, and they lived in big houses with enormous rooms of their own with big soft beds and floors of plush carpet. They never went to sleep in cold rooms, and they always had anything and everything they wanted to eat. If they ever got sick, they knew they had the best doctors and medical care available. Everyone respected their parents and their family names. They shouldn't be filled with jealousy. Why in the world did they resent me—me who'd had so little compared to them. My heart hardened against them as I stood there in the bathroom, became as small and as sharp as theirs.
A few moments later Louise returned, only she didn't have my coat; she had another school uniform.
"Where did you get that?" I asked, smiling through my tears.
"Mr. Moore. I found him in the hall and told him what had happened. He just went to the storage room quickly and got this out. It smells a little like mothballs, but—"
"Oh, that's far better than this!" I exclaimed, tossing the spoiled sweater aside and slipping out of my skirt as fast as I could. I slipped the new sweater on quickly and put on Momma's pearls. The sweater was a little tighter, clinging to my bosom and my ribs firmly, but as Momma always said, "Beggars can't be choosers."
"Does my hair smell? I don't think they got much spray on it." I leaned down so she could check.
"It's all right."
"Thank you, Louise." I hugged her to me. We heard all the instruments being tuned. "Let's hurry," I said and started out.
"Wait," Louise called. She picked up my smelly sweater and skirt with her right thumb and forefinger and held them away from herself. "I have an idea."
"What idea?"
"Follow me," she said. We left the bathroom. Everyone was in the backstage area warming up. Louise hurried back to the music suite. I followed, curious. "Keep your eyes on the hallway," she said.
She went to Clara Sue's beautiful soft blue cashmere coat and shoved my smelly sweater into it, closing the coat around it.
"Louise!" I couldn't help smiling. Louise was not usually this brave, and Clara Sue deserved it.
"I don't care. Besides, she won't blame it on me; she'll blame it on you," Louise said so nonchalantly, it made me laugh.
We hurried to the backstage area and our instruments. The girls who had been in the bathroom when I had been betrayed looked with curiosity as I entered. They soon realized I had another sweater and skirt on. Even so, Linda and Clara Sue pretended I still smelled awful.
Mr. Moore announced it was time for us to take our positions on the stage. We all marched out behind the closed curtains. I could hear the murmur of the audience as people took their seats.
"Ready, everyone?" Mr. Moore asked. He stopped beside me and squeezed my arm softly. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," I said.
"You'll do fine," he said and then took his position. The curtain was opened and the audience responded with loud applause. The stage lights made it hard to look out at the crowd and distinguish faces easily, but after a while my eyes got used to the lights and I could see Jimmy and Daddy gazing up.
The chorus sang three songs, and then Mr. Moore nodded toward me. I stepped out to the front of the stage, and Mr. Moore went to the piano. The hush in the audience was deep, and I felt the warm lights on my face.
I didn't even remember beginning. Everything came naturally. Suddenly I had my head back, and I was singing to the world, singing into the wind, and hoping my voice would be carried all the way to Momma, who would close her eyes and hear me, as far away as she was.
"Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high . . ."
When I sang my final note, I closed my eyes. For a moment I heard nothing, just a great silence, and then there was a thunder of applause. It rolled in from the audience like a wave rushing to shore, building and building until it hit with a crescendo that overwhelmed me. I looked at Mr. Moore. He was smiling from ear to ear and had his hand out and toward me.
I curtsied and stepped back. Looking through the audience, I found Daddy again and saw him clapping so hard his whole body shook. Jimmy was clapping, too, and smiling up at me. Someone squeezed my arm and then someone else and soon everyone in the chorus was congratulating me.
