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“Try outs
for the ninth grade play will be held today.
If you are interested in a part, see me in the gym.” Mr. Mahoney said.
The
announcement intrigued me. Later in the
day, I made my way to the gym.
“Miss
Williams, why don’t you try out for the part of Miss Spinster?”
I
wrinkled my nose in distaste.
“That
is a cameo part Miss Williams and I’m confident you could put a lot into the
character.”
*************************************************************
The
curtain rose on the “Jury was Hung” to a packed audience of Hotchkiss students
and parents.
As
“Miss Spinster” I flirted with the foreman of the jury throughout the
production. Finally my finale scene
arrived and I threw caution to the wind playing it to the hilt. My swept up hair bun swayed as I flew across
the stage in hot pursuit of the foreman (alias George Wilson). Throwing my arms
around him I planted a loud kiss on his made-up cheek. “Oh Mr. Wren, you are
just toooo cute for words!” I squealed.
The
audience roared and I loved every minute of it.
“I
have never laughed so hard in all my life,” Agnes said after the play.
“You were
terrific,” complimented Diana.
The click of ninth grade girls
surrounded me and gave me approval of my performance.
***********
***********
The all
school picnic was held on the last Friday of the school year. When the coach
called for participants in the pie-eating contest I decided to give it a
try. The contestants were lined up
behind a wooden table, covered with large napkins and told to keep their hands
behind their backs. My pie was crème,
which was fine with me.
“Get set!
Start eating!
My face hit
the crème filling. It was hard to keep
my hands behind my back and only eat with my mouth.
The onlookers
cheered from the sidelines. My face
tried to cover the whole pie and swallow without chewing. Finally the coach blew his whistle. One of the boys at the end of the table had
finished his pie. I looked at the other pie eaters and we broke into laughter. All faces were covered with cherry or crème
pie filling.
I ran to
the outdoor water spicket and began washing the sticky crème from my face,
eyebrows and hair. The group of ninth
grade girls joined me.
“We were
rooting for you Gloria,” Agnes laughed.
“Well, as
you can see...I tried,” I laughed back, as I took my fingers and worked some
glued crème off my eyebrows.
“Come on
Gloria, let’s get a hot dog and a coke,” Diana invited with a bright smile.
The circle
of girls opened and I walked along joining in their chatter and giggles. I would never think of this group of girls as
a “click” again, for no longer would I be an outsider. They became my friends. The walls had come
down. I belonged.
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