CHAPTER-9

--1 month later--

The rehearsals began at three o'clock, and Amelia knew all her lines the first day there, which wasn't really surprising. What was surprising was that she knew all my lines, too, as well as everyone 

else's. We'd be going over a scene, she'd be doing it without the script, and I'd be looking down at a stack of pages, trying to figure out what my next line should be, and whenever I looked up she 

had this real shiny look about her, as if waiting for a burning bush or something. The only lines I knew were the mute bum's, at least on that first day, and all of a sudden I was actually envious of 

Eddie, at least in that regard. This was going to be a lot of work, not exactly what I'd expected when I'd signed up for the class.

My noble feelings about doing the play had worn off by the second day of rehearsals. Even though I knew I was doing the "right thing," my friends didn't understand it at all, and they'd been riding me since they'd found out. "You're doing what?" Eric asked when he learned about it. "You're doing the play with Amelia garcia?Are you insane or just plain stupid?" I sort of mumbled that I had a good reason, but he wouldn't let it drop, and he told everyone around us that I had a crush on her. I denied 

it, of course, which just made them assume it was true, and they'd laugh all the louder and tell the next person they saw. The stories kept getting wilder, too-by lunchtime I'd heard from Sally 

that I was thinking of getting engaged. I actually think Sally was jealous about it. She'd had a crush on me for years, and the feeling might have been mutual except for the fact that she had a 

glass eye, and that was something I just couldn't ignore. Her bad eye reminded me of something you'd see stuffed into the head of a mounted owl in a tacky antique shop, and to be honest, it sort 

of gave me the willies.

 

I guess that was when I started to resent Amelia again. I know it wasn't her fault, but I was the one who was taking the arrows for Mason, who hadn't exactly gone out of his way the night of 

homecoming to make me feel welcome. I began to stumble through my lines in class for the next few days, not really even attempting to learn them, and occasionally I'd crack a joke or 

two, which everyone laughed at, except for Amelia and Miss Chole. After rehearsal was over I'd head home to put the play out of my mind, and I wouldn't even bother to pick up the script. 

Instead I'd joke with my friends about the weird things Amelia did 

and tell fibs about how it was Miss Chole who had forced me into the whole thing.

Amelia, though, wasn't going to let me off that easy. No, she got me right where it hurts, right smack in the old ego.

I was out with Eric on Saturday night following Beaufort's third consecutive state championship in football, about a week after rehearsals had started. We were hanging out at the waterfront outside of Cecil's Diner, eating hushpuppies and watching people cruising in their cars, when I saw Amelia walking down the street. 

She was still a hundred yards away, turning her head from side to side, wearing that old brown sweater again and carrying her books in one hand. It must have been nine o'clock or so, which was late for her to be out, and it was even stranger to see her in this part of town. I turned my back to her and pulled the collar up on my jacket, but even Diana-who had banana pudding where her brain should have been-was smart enough to figure out who she was looking for 

"Landon, your girlfriend is here."

"She's not my girlfriend," I said. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"Your fiancée, then."

I guess she'd talked to Sally, too.

"I'm not engaged," I said. "Now knock it off."

I glanced over my shoulder to see if she'd spotted me, and I guess she had. She was walking toward us. I pretended not to notice.

"Here she comes," Diana said, and giggled.

"I know," I said.

Twenty seconds later she said it again.

"She's still coming." I told you she was quick.

"I know," I said through gritted teeth. If it wasn't for her legs,and her face, she could almost drive you as crazy as Amelia.

I glanced around again, and this time Amelia knew I'd seen her and 

she smiled and waved at me. I turned away, and a moment later she was standing right beside me.

"Hello, Landon," she said to me, oblivious of my scorn. "Hello, Eric, 

Diana . . ." She went around the group. Everyone sort of 

mumbled "hello" and tried not to stare at the book.

Eric was holding a beer, and he moved it behind his back so she wouldn't see it. Jamie could even make Eric feel guilty if she was close enough to him. They'd been neighbors at one time, and Eric 

had been on the receiving end of her talks before. Behind her back 

he called her "the Salvation Lady," in obvious reference to the Salvation Army. "She would have been a brigadier general," he liked to say. But when she was standing right in front of him, it 

was another story. In his mind she had an in with God, and he didn't want to be in her bad graces.

"How are you doing, Eric? I haven't seen you around much 

recently." She said this as if she still talked to him all the time.

He shifted from one foot to the other and looked at his shoes, 

playing that guilty look for all it was worth.

"Well, I haven't been to church lately," he said.

Amelia smiled that glittery smile. "Well, that's okay, I suppose, as 

long as it doesn't become a habit or anything."

"It won't."

Now I've heard of confession-that thing when Catholics sit behind a screen and tell the priest about all their sins-and that's the way Eric was when he was next to Amelia. For a second I thought he 

was going to call her "ma'am."

 

Now this made think, what she is gonna say to me. Precisely I was kinda nervous...