Sugarless: A Novel

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218 s10S M y third at sectionals was included in morning announcements, but Carla Schwob’s blacktop conversion was the true sensation. At lunch, Wheaton-Warrenville’s most glamorous Magdalene to date sat with Mindy at the play fag table, the two of them baptizing tater tots in each other’s ketchup and witnessing to the faithful. Stacy Granbur and a bubbly trio of Campus Lifers were first in line for hugs. They shuddered as Carla’s huge boobs shamelessly buzzed their sockets, she had been so total a sinner. Carla’s promise to witness at their Bible study launched a chorus of “God is always in the driver’s seat”s and “You’re so cute”s. “Bring Esmeralda with you,” I said under my breath, certain that the junior Pattys would enjoy hearing how Mindy’s falsehood about Satan’s pinwheel had sent us spinning across the ice. “Congratulations, Rick,” Stacy said warily, warding off paganism with rapid flutters of her white eyelashes. 219 I set down my chili dog. “Yeah. I’ll be promoting sin downstate.” “Mindy said you were in the car too.” “Uh-huh,” I drawled. “It wasn’t my time to die.” Or get saved. In the back seat, beyond God’s reach. I’d only pissed myself with fright. I tipped my empty carton of milk to my mouth and noisily swallowed air. The sight of Carla’s trusting, gentle smile punched me in the gut. Was that what beatific looked like? To keep from going under, I babbled out, “In the words of Conrad Birdie, ‘I’ve got a lot a livin’ to do.’” There was a fresh volley of Campus Life squeals. Wegner had posted sign-up sheets for the spring musical that morning: Bye Bye Birdie. Auditions were in two weeks, the Monday after the state meet. By third period the sheets were half-filled, Joe’s and Mindy’s names near the top. Having revealed at lunch that both Dick Van Dyke and Paul Lynde had been in the original cast, I’d become the resident expert. Would Joe and Mindy play Albert and Rose? Or Conrad and Kim? Was Joe too fat for Conrad? Did I think it was fair that they always got the leads? The Campus Life squad was going to try out for the teenage chorus and convert from within. They asked Carla if she was going to audition. “You mean audition to be in the play?” Carla’s astonishment would have made me laugh any other time, except the clotted, cottage-cheese sound in her voice had disappeared overnight. “Do you sing, Carla?” I saw her dirty hair oil-slicking the pillows on the love seat as she croaked along to her Aerosmith records. On the other hand, after The Miracle on Herrick Road, maybe she sang higher than Minnie Riperton. “Not like Mindy,” she protested. Mindy dabbed ketchup from her lips. “Don’t receive that!” “You’re a lamb of God now, Carla,” Lisa Halsey gurgled. “Sing for joy to God our strength; shout aloud to the God of Jacob!” cried Stacy. “Oooh, what was that?” asked Carla. “Psalm 81. You’re gonna love Psalms and Proverbs!” “Begin the music, strike the tambourine, play the melodious harp and lyre . . .” Mindy was continuing the verse when she stopped with another idea. “If you don’t sing, maybe you could be in the orchestra. Do you play any instruments, Carla?” “Steve’s skin flute,” I muttered. “Uncut.” “I’m not musical in any way—” “Don’t receive that, Carla!” “Only take in the good!” “Let go and let God!” “He moves mountains!” I wished I knew how to barf on cue. “Well, I guess I can think about the chorus,” Carla said shyly. Then, eager to give back to her brand-new best friends, she suggested that they get a jump on auditions and learn the lyrics by listening to her brother’s record. “You have a brother?” said Ty Vandenhoop, still under Mindy’s sway. She turned to me. “You have Bye Bye Birdie, don’t you Rick?” “Rick is your brother ?” asked Stacy over more girl squeals. “He is. He is definitely my brother,” said Carla, proud of the fact, and not faking it, a second kick in the stomach. “Praise God,” she added, blushing as she tried the phrase out for the very first time. I picked up...