She also told us that she would be changing the maid-service schedule from two to three days a week: Monday, Wednesday and Friday; and that she expected to be busy this week, so anyone who needed to be driven somewhere had better say so well in advance or they would find themselves traveling on shank's mare. I didn't understand that comment either, since both Bud and Jim were old enough to drive themselves. I had assumed that I was the only one who would need to be taken places.
"Sam, I will call Bob Foster this morning and give him the VIN number of the bike. I assume you want the radio installed in the workshop?"
"Yes, please."
"All right. I will see to getting that room built-out. I have a contractor who I have used in the past who can handle it on short notice. Can you think of anything else you will need in the workshop?"
"Let's see — the mats, the radio, the bike... no, I can't think of anything right now, but I'm sure something will come up that I haven't thought of."
"Well, if you think of something, let me know. Otherwise, I will use my best judgment."
"Great! Thanks. I'm sure it will be perfect." Bambi seemed really fired up over this. She had seemed reluctant at first, but when she found out that Neeka would be with me, she got more on-board with the idea. Since I now had the Sheriff's backing, she seemed positively enthusiastic.
When I went down to feed Brute, he was off in the woods chasing the wildlife, so I didn't get to say goodbye before I left for school. It was just as well, he would have messed up my clothes wanting to play.
Jim, Bud and I walked off to school together. Jim insisted on carrying my bookbag, which I thought was sweet of him. Bud looked jealous that he hadn't thought of it. Since I didn't have to carry anything, I walked between them and held their hands. I thought that might embarrass them, but either I was wrong, or they hid it well.
We had only got to the end of the block when I heard a familiar voice behind us.
"Wait up!" Neeka called. We stopped so she could catch up.
"I thought you drove your car to school?" I asked, as she reached the corner.
"Well, I usually do. But I saw you guys walk by and I thought I'd walk with you. If you don't mind, that is."
I turned to Jim, "Do you mind if Neeka tags along, Jim?" Jim was looking at Neeka like she was the only person in the world. He was so lost that I had to prompt him again. "Earth to Jim. Earth to Jim."
"Hunh?" he said, dully. "Oh, no. I mean, yes! I mean... what was the question again?"
Neeka looked at the ground and glanced at Jim every couple of seconds without lifting her head. I wanted to laugh out loud. I could see how she got a reputation for being shy, but I also saw that it was mostly just an act she used to tease boys. Seeing these two behaving like this in broad daylight after hearing them screwing like crazed weasels in Jim's bed was a riot.
Far be it from me to ruin someone else's game, though. If they wanted to act like seventh-graders around each other in public, that was their right. I took my bookbag from Jim and handed it to Bud, then I took Neeka's books and gave them to Jim. I took Bud's hand and we crossed the street. When I looked back, Jim and Neeka were holding hands too and still hadn't said a word to each other.
Bud and I walked on together. Neither of us said anything about what we had done for fear of rekindling a spark that might get out of hand. We just hung onto each other and didn't split up until we got to school and had to go to our separate homerooms.
I got to my locker before the bell and was unloading books I wouldn't need until later periods when I got my first comment on my new figure. Sandra Smith had elected herself to the position of Miss Pain-in-the-Ass and she thoroughly enjoyed needling anyone who dared to stand out by looking, dressing, or acting different. If she had been born a boy, she would have been called a bully.
"Well, look what we have here!" Sandra said in her usual loud obnoxious voice.
"Hi, Sandra. Have a nice weekend?" I said. Being polite to her never worked, but at least I could take the high road for the benefit of onlookers.
"Looks like someone wants us to think she got herself a boob job over the weekend! Damn, Samantha, how stooopid do you think we are?"
"I dunno, Sandra. How stupid are you?" I shouldn't have, but when they open the door like that, it's hard to say 'no'.
Repartee wasn't Sandra's strong suit. She blinked a couple of times before charging right ahead with her next asinine comment.
"Hey, Samantha! How many boxes of tissue did it take to stuff that bra, hunh?"
"None, Sandra. These are real. Would you like me to prove it?"
I think I stole her next line there. She gaped at me and got louder, but mercifully briefer.
"Uh... Yeah! Prove it!" At that moment, the bell rang and I was saved any further embarrassment, since we were in different rooms this period.
"OK, see you after first period."
"Yeah!" she shouted, in a voice loud enough to be heard all the way down the hall.
I honestly don't know why she decided to pick on me or what she thought was going to happen after the next period. If she thought about it, she might realize that it was dumb to risk humiliation over making an accusation on pure supposition and with no hard evidence. But then, thought itself was a stranger to Sandra Smith. She was a beneficiary of the policy of social advancement; a doctrine that said that for the emotional well-being of those with limited intelligence, they must not be segregated from those capable of advanced education; thereby sacrificing the education of the smart for the contentment of the dumb. It was ironic that the very people who thought of this lunacy considered themselves to be smart and well educated.