LITMIR.BIZ

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It needs to be shorter or funnier or something, or people won’t like it.”

      “I guess I could make it a bit shorter,” said Maryellen, trying to be a good sport. No one seemed to appreciate how hard she had worked, writing the play all by herself, with no help from anybody. Gosh, sometimes she’d crept silently into the bathroom in the middle of the night, sat cross-legged on the floor, opened her notebook, and by the pale glow of the night-light, written and rewritten pages and pages. Now, reluctantly, she said, “I guess I could cut out some of the songs.”

      “No, don’t cut the songs,” said Beverly. “They’re the only good parts.”

      “But the music is sort of babyish,” said Carolyn, who’d recently gone crazy for rock ’n’ roll. “People like hit tunes like ‘Rock Around the Clock.’”

      “Better music might help,” said Karen King, speaking to Carolyn as if Maryellen were invisible. “But the way the narrator drones on and on and on is boring.”

      “Maybe the show just needs more variety,” said Angela.

      “In fact, a variety show would be better all the way around, if you ask me,” said Wayne.

      “No one did ask you,” said Maryellen crossly. “Mind your own beeswax.”

      But while Maryellen was scolding Wayne, Karen Stohlman was saying enthusiastically, “Variety—that’s it! Let’s put on a variety show, like The Ed Sullivan Show on TV. We can each do different acts, like singing and dancing and juggling and magic tricks.”

      “That would be more fun for the audience,” said Carolyn.

      “And for us, too,” said Karen King, “because we’ll each get to do what we like to do and show off our talents, instead of just being silent dummies with nothing to say for ourselves.”

      “Wait,” Maryellen said. She felt as if her show was galloping away from her, out of her control. “I—”

      But Karen Stohlman rose to her toes and did a pirouette as she went on, “Beverly and I can do ballet.”

      “I’ll play rock ’n’ roll on the piano!” offered Carolyn.

      “Angela and I can dance and sing,” said Karen King. And to prove it, she and Angela started to jitterbug and sing,

       We’re gonna rock around the clock tonight,

       We’re gonna rock, rock, rock

       Till broad daylight,

       We’re gonna rock, we’re gonna rock

       Around the clock tonight.

      “You can do rope tricks,” Wayne suggested to Davy, “and lasso Scooter!”

      Even Tom piped up, “Mikey and I can do a puppet show with our Howdy Doody puppets.”

      “What’ll I do?” asked Maryellen. No one heard her, so she said again loudly, “What’ll I do?”

      Everyone was quiet for a moment, trying hard to think of what Maryellen’s talent might be.

      “You already made those great posters,” said Carolyn at last.

      “But what’ll I do in the show?” asked Maryellen.

      Davy sat up. “You’re good at talking,” he said. “Tell jokes or something.”

      “Like, why did the clown throw the clock out the window?” said Wayne. “Because he wanted to see time fly. Get it?”

      “Be quiet, Mr. Helicopter Head,” said Maryellen. “I don’t want to tell silly jokes. I want to encourage people to get vaccinated, which is serious and important.”

      “Well, then make a short speech about Jonas Salk,” said Carolyn, “and sing one of your songs. Maybe the one about getting vaccinated, the ‘poh-lee, oh-lee, oh’ song.”

      “Yes, that would be good!” said Angela brightly.

      Maryellen hugged her script close to her chest. All that hard work for nothing! She was sorely disappointed. But it was clear that no one wanted to do the show that she had written. They just wanted to sing and dance and show off. She had no choice; she couldn’t do her show all by herself! So she gave in.

      “All right,” she said. At least she’d get to wear her bridesmaid dress—if Mom had finished it. That might be a big if, Maryellen thought. I’d better ask Mom how my dress is coming along.

      That evening, Carolyn was at a sock hop at the high school gym, and Maryellen and Scooter rode along in the car when Mom went to pick up Carolyn after the dance. It was unusual to have Mom all to herself, and Maryellen knew that she should ask about the bridesmaid dress, but she wasn’t quite sure how to begin. She was still hesitant about bugging Mom. Finally, she said, “Gosh! Carolyn has changed, hasn’t she? She never would have gone to a sock hop last year. Next thing you know, she’ll be going to the prom in a prom dress, with a corsage and a boyfriend and everything, like Joan.”

      “Carolyn’s a real teenager now,” agreed Mom. “She’s what the magazines call a ‘bobby-soxer.’” Mom smiled, and then said with a sigh, “All you kids are growing up so fast! It feels like just a minute ago Joan got her first prom dress. Remember that gorgeous pink one? It’s still in the closet somewhere. And now Joan’s getting married, for goodness sakes.”

      Maryellen grabbed her chance. “By the way,” she asked casually, “how’s my bridesmaid dress coming along?”

      “Well, Mrs. Fenstermacher helped me cut the fabric,” said Mom. “Now I just have to sew the pieces together.”

      That didn’t sound too hard. “Do you think, I mean, I was wondering if you might have it finished by my birthday?” Maryellen asked.

      “Ellie, sweetie,” Mom said, sounding tense. “When you’re planning a wedding, a lot has to be done far in advance. So even though the wedding is not until the end of the summer, I’m already awfully busy with the preparations. There’s so much to do, and I want it all to be perfect. I’ve got to reserve the caterer and decide the menu. Then I’ve got to order flowers from the florist, and find musicians and choose the music… The list goes on and on. I don’t know if I’ll have time to finish your dress by next week or not. We’ll see.”

      Scooter snorted in his sleep, as if to say, Humpf—“we’ll see” isn’t very reassuring.

      That was what Maryellen was thinking, too.

      Mom seemed glad to change the subject as they pulled up to the high school. “Run in and tell Carolyn we’re here, please, sweetheart,” she said to Maryellen.

      As Maryellen walked in, rock ’n’ roll music was blaring so loudly that the whole gym seemed to be thumping to the beat. The gym was packed with girls in pretty, swirly dresses and boys in letter sweaters or jackets and ties, and it was decorated with loops of colorful crepe paper strung between the basketball hoops and the windows. All along the walls, shoes were lined up, and the kids on the dance floor were in their socks, dancing fast to rock ’n’ roll. Maryellen thought the sock hop did sort of look like fun, except for the dancing-with-a-boy part. She looked around, and when she spotted Carolyn, she hardly recognized her. Carolyn was dancing with a boy, dancing as well as a dancer on TV! And she looked beautiful. At home, Carolyn wore the bobby-soxer’s standard outfit of jeans with the cuffs rolled up, an old shirt of Dad’s tied at the waist, bobby socks, and penny loafers. But tonight she was fancy. The full skirt of her dress was nipped in at the waist, and it swooshed gracefully when her partner twirled her under his arm. Her feet just flew. Maryellen caught Carolyn’s eye and waved. Carolyn waved back, and as the music ended, she said good-bye to her partner and hurried over.

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