Our campus is not a giant, factory-size job with a particle accelerator and a two-hundred-man football squad, but itÆs chummy. The chummiest - thing -about it is the bulletin board in Old Main. You may find a stray glove fastened up with a thumbtack, or you can pick up a baby-sitting job if a married veteran doesnÆt beat you tO it. Or you can buy a car cheap if you tow it from where it gave up. There are items like: ôWill the person who removed a windbreaker from the Library please return same and receive a punch in the nose?ö
But the main interest is the next four sections, ôATo-G,ö ôH-To-L,ö ôM-To-T,ö and ôU-Æro-Z,ö for they are what we use in place- of the U.S. Postal ôServiceö at enormous saving in postage. Everybody inspects his section before class in the morning. If thereÆs nothing for you, at least you can see who dOes get mail and sometimes from whom. YouÆll look again at lunch time and before going home. A person with a busy social life will check the board six or seven times.
Mine isnÆt that busy but I frequently find a note from Cliff. He knows I like to, so he indulges me. ItÆsfun to get mail on the board.
There was a girl I used to run across because we were both in ôH-ro-LöùGabrielle Lamont. I would say hello and she would say hello and there it stopped. Gabrielle was a sad oneùnot a total termite, but dampish. Her face had the usual features but she let them live their own lives, not even lipstick. She skinned her hair back and her clothes looked as if they had been bought in France. Not Parisùjust France. ThereÆs a difference.
Which they probably were. Her father is in Modern Languages and he sent her three years to school in France. It did something. I donÆt think she ever had a date.
We both had eight oÆclocks and she would check ôH-~ro-Lö every morning when I did and then go quietly away. There was never a note for her.
Until this one morning. . . Georgia Lammers, who is~ purely carnivorous, took a note off the board as Gabrielle came up. I heard this soft little voice say, ôExcuse me.
ThatÆs mine.ö -~
Georgia said, ôHuh? DonÆt be silly!ö
Gabrielle looked scared but she put out her hand. ôRead the name, please. YouÆve made a mistake.ö
Georgia snatched the note away. She is a junior and wouldnÆt bother to speak to me if Daddy werenÆt on the staffùbut IÆm .not afraid of her. ôDo it,ö 1 insisted. ôLetÆs see the name.ö
Georgia stuck the envelope in my face and snapped, ôRead it yourself, snoopy!ö
ôGabrielle Lamont,ö I read Out loud. ôHand it over, Georgia.ö
ôWhat?ö she yelped, and looked at it. Her cheeks got very red.
ôHand it over,ö I repeated.
ôWell!ö said Georgia. ôAnybody can make a mistake!ö She flung the note at Gabrielle and flounced off.
Gabrielle picked it up. ôThanks,ö she whispered.
ôUsual Yellow Cab Service,ö I said. ôA pleasureöù which it was. Georgia Lammers is popular in a cheap, plunging-neckline way, but not with me. She acts as if she had invented sex.
Gabrielle started getting mail every dayùsome in envelopes, some just with a thumbtack shoved through folds. I wondered who it was; but every time I saw Gabrielle she was alone. I decided it must be someone her father did not like so they had to use notes to arrange secret dates. I told Cliff so, but he said I had an uncontrolled romantic imagination. -
Gabrielle got eleven notes that week and -I got only four, all from Cliff. I pointed this out and he said I did not appreciate my blessings and he was going to ration me to three a week. Men are exasperating.
I came up one morning as Gabriehle was taking down a note; this time Georgia Lammers was there. As Gabrielle left I said sweetly, ôNothing for you, Georgia? Too bad. Or was it GabrielleÆs turn to swipe your note?ö -
Georgia sniffed and went into the RegistrarÆs office, where she is a part-time clerk. I thought no more about it until after five, when I was waiting in Old Main for Daddy, intending to ride home with him.
There was nothing on ôH-To-Lö for me, or for Gabrielle, or Georgia. Nobody was around so I sat down on the Senior Bench and rested my feet.
I jumped when I heard someone behind me, but it was only Gabrielle. SheÆs a freshman, too, and anyhow she wouldnÆt tell. But I didnÆt sit down againùour senior committee thinks up fantastic punishments for ignoring their sacred privileges.
A good thing I didnÆtùGeorgia came out Of the office then. But she did not notice me; -she went straight- to ôH-To-Lö and unpinned a note. I thought: Maureen, your memory is slipping; there was nothing for her a minute ago.
Georgia turned and saw me. She flushed and said, ôWhat are you staring at?ö
ôSorry,ö I said. ôI didnÆt think there was a note for youùI just looked at the board.ö
She started to flare up, then she put on a catty smile. ôWant to read it?ö
ôHeavens, no!ö
ôGo ahead!ö She shoved it at me. ôItÆs very interesting.ö
Puzzled, I took it. It was -a blank sheet, nothing but creases and thumbtack holes. ôSomebody is playing jokes on you,ö I said.
ôNot on me.ö
I turned it over. The address read: ôMiss Gabrielle Lamont.ö
It finally soaked in that the address should have been ôGeorgia Lammers.ö Or should have been for Georgia to touch it. I said, ôThis note isnÆt yours. You have no right to it~ö
ôWhat note?ö ôThis note.ö
ôI donÆt see any note. I see a blank sheet of paper.ö
ôButù Look, you thought it was a note to Gabrielle. And you took it down anyway.ö
Her smile got nastier. ôNo, I knew it wasnÆt a note. ThatÆs the point.ö
ôHuh?ö -
She explained and I wanted to scratch her. Poor little Gabrielle had been sending notes to herself, just to get mail when everybody else didùand Georgia had caught on. Both girls had campus jobs which kept them late; Georgia had seen Gabrielle come in late a week earlier, look around, and pin up a note. Being a sneak, she had ducked out to find out to whom Gabrielle was writingù only to find that it was addressed to Gabrielle herself.
Poor Gabby! No wondτr I had never seen her with anyone. There wasnÆt anyone.
Georgia licked her lips. ôIsnÆt it a scream? That snip trying to make us think sheÆs popular? I should write a real note on thisùlet her know that -her public isnÆt fooled.ö
ôDonÆt you dare!ö
ôOh, donÆt be dull!ö She pinned it up, putting the tack back in-the same holes. ôIÆll let the joke ride until I think of something good.ö
I grabbed her arm~ ôDonÆt you touch her notes again or IÆllùö
She shook me off. ôYouÆll what? Tell her that yOu know her notes are phony? I can just see you!ö
ôIÆll tell the Dean, thatÆs what! IÆll tell the Dean youÆve been opening GabrielleÆs notes.ö
ôOh, yes? You looked at it, too.ö
ôBut you handed it to me!ö
ôDid I? My word against yours, sweetie pie.ö
ôB~itùö
ôAnd if you talk, the whole campus will know about GabrielleÆs fake notes. Think it over.ö She marched off.
I was so quiet on the way -home that Daddy said, ôSmatter, PuddinÆ? Flunk a quiz?ö
I assured him -that my academic status was satisfactory. ôThen why the mourning?ö
Before Daddy let me register he had warned me that the First Law of the Jungle for a professorÆs child was not to be a pipeline to the faculty. ôBut, Daddy, youÆre a professor.ö
ôStudent stuff, eh? Better sweat it out alone. Good. luck.ö
I did not tell Mother either, because with MOther free speech is not just a theory. I did nothing but worry. Poor Gabrielle! She took her ônoteö down next morning, looking pleasedùand I wanted to cry. Then I saw the smirk on Georgia LammersÆ face and I felt like murder and mayhem. There was another ônoteö Friday and I wanted to shout to her not to touch it. I didnÆt dare. It
was like a time bomb, watching GabrielleÆs pitiful makebelieve and knowing that Georgia meant to wreck it as soon as she thought up something nasty enough.
I was in the RegistrarÆs office Monday, not to see Georgia, though I couldnÆt avoid her, but because I am a freshman reporter for the Campus Crier. One of my chores is - getting up the ôHappy Birthdayö column. I thumbed through the files, noting dates from the coming Friday through the following Thursday. GabrielleÆs name turned up for Friday and I decided to send her a birthday card, via the bulletin board, so for once she would have real mail. Next I listed Bun PetersonÆs name; her birthday was the same as GabrielleÆs. Bun is president of the Student Council and head cheerleader and honorary football captain; it seemed a shame she had to have GabrielleÆs birthday as well. I decided ~to get Gabrielle a really nice card, with a hanky.
As I finished Georgia picked up my list and said, ôWhoÆs getting senile?~
I said, ôYou are,ö and took it back.
She said, ôDonÆt get too big for your beanie, freshman.ö She went on, ôGoing to the party for Bun Peterson?öùthen added, ôOh, I forgotùitÆs upper classmen only.ö
- I looked her in the eye. ôA double choc malt against a used candy bar you arenÆt either!ö
She didnÆt answer and I swaggered out.
It was a busy week. Junior sprained his arm, Mother was away two days and I kept house, the cat had to be wormed, and I typed a term paper for Cliff. I didnÆt think about Gabrielle until late Friday when I stopped by the board on the chance that there might be a note from Cliff. There wasnÆt, but there was another of GabnelleÆs notes, in an envelope with her name typed. I realized with a shock that I had forgotten her birthday card.
I was wondering whether to get one and let her find it
Monday, when I heard a pssst! It was Georgia Lammers,
motioning me to come to the office. Curiosity got me; I
went. She pulled me inside; there was no one else in the
outer office. ôKeep back,ö- she whispered. ôIf she sees anyone, she may not stop. SheÆs due nowùitÆs after five.ö
I shook her off. ôWho?ö
ôGabrielle, of course. Shut up!ö
ôHuh?ö I said. ôSheÆs already been there. Her ænoteÆ for Monday is up.ö - -
ôA lot you know! Hush!ö She crowded me into the corner, then peeked out. -
ôQuit shoving!ö I said and looked out.
Gabrielle was pinning something up, her back to us. She saw the envelope with her name, took it down, and hurried away. -
I turned to Georgia. ôIf youÆve monkeyed with one of her notes, I will go to the Dean.ö
ôGo aheadùsee how far it gets you.ö
ôDid you touch that note?ö
ôSure I didùI wrote it. WhatÆs wrong with that?ö She had me; anybody can send anyone a note. ôWell, what did you say?ö -
ôWhat business is it of yours? Still,ö she went on, ôIÆll tell you. ItÆs too good to keep.ö She dug a paper out of her purse. It was a typewritten rough draft, full of x-outs and inserts; it read:
Dear Gabrielle,
Today is Bun PetersonÆs birthdayùand we are giving her the finest surprise party this school has ever seen. We would like to invite everybody, but we canÆtùand you have been picked as one of the girls to represent the freshman class. We are gathering in groups and will descend on her in a body. Your group will meet at seven oÆclock in the
Snack Shoppe. Put on your best bib and
tuckerùand donÆt breathe a word to anyone!
The Committee
ôItÆs a shabby trick,ö I said, ôto invite her to another girlÆs party on her own birthday. You knew it was her birthday.ö -
ôWhat of it?ö -
ôItÆs meanùbut just like you. How did you get them to invite her? You arenÆt on the committeeùare you?ö
She stared, then laughed. ôSheÆs not invited to anything.ö
ôHuh? You mean thereÆs no party? But there is.,, ôOh, sure, thereÆs a party for Bun Peterson. But that little snip wonÆt be there. ThatÆs the joke.ö
It finally sank in. Gabrielle would go to the Snack Shoppe and waitùand waitùand waitùwhile the party she thought she had been invited to went on without her. ôThat strikes you as funny?ö I said.
ôThatÆs just the beginning,ö this Lammers person answered. ôAbout eight-thirty, when she is beginning to wonder æWha Hoppen?Æ a messenger will bring another note. It will be blank paper, just like those she sends to herselfùthen sheÆll know.ö She giggled and wet her lips. ôThe little fake will have her comeuppance.ö
I started after her and she ducked back of the counter. ôYouÆre not allowed back here!ö she yelped.
I stopped. ôYouÆll have to come out some time. Then weÆll find Gabrielle and you will tell her the truthùall of it!ö
ôTell her yourselflö she snapped. Two boys drifted in and the Registrar came out of the inner office and Georgia became briskly official. I left.
Cliff was waiting at ôH-To-Lö; I was never so glad to see him.
ôWell,ö Cliff said a bit later, ôphone her. Tell her sheÆs~ been had and not to go to the Snack Shoppe.ö
ôBut, Cliff, I canÆt! That would be almost as cruel as the way Georgia planned it. LookùcanÆt you get- sOmebody to take her to BunÆs party?öCliff wrinkled his forehead. ôI donÆt see how.ö ôCliff, youÆve got to!ö -
ôPuddinÆ, today is GabnelteÆs birthday, too. Right?ö
ôYes, yesùthatÆs what makes it so mean.ö ôYou donÆt want to send her to BunÆs party. What we do is give her a surprise party of her own. Simple.ö
I stared with open-mouthed adoration. ôCliffùyouÆre a genius.ö -
ôNo,ö he - said modestly, ôjust highly intelligent and with a heart of gold. LetÆs get busy, chica.ö
First I phoned MQther. She said, ôTonight, Maureen? I like to entertain your friends butùö I cut in with a quick up-to-date. Presently she - said, ôIÆll- check the - deep freeze. Sommers Market may still be open. How about turkey legs and creamed mushrooms on toast?ö
ôAnd ice cream,ö I added. ôBirthday parties need ice cream.ö
ôBut the cake? IÆm short on time.ö
ôUh, weÆll get the cake.ö
As I hung up Cliff came out of the other booth. ôI got the Downbeat Campus Combo,ö he announced.
ôOh, Cliffùan orchestra!ö
ôIf you can call those refugees from a juke box that.ö
ôBut how will we pay for it?ö -
ôDonÆt askùit was a promotion. They bid on BunÆs party and got left, So they listened to reason. But IÆm not doing well on guests, baby.ö
ôYou called your house?ö
ôYes. A lot of the boys have other plans.ö
ôYou call again and tell those free loaders that they
will never eat another Dagwood in my house if they are -
not there, on time, and each with a present. No excuses.
This is total war.ö -
ôAye aye, sir~ö - - - -
We went to Helen HuntÆs Tasty Pastry Shoppe. Mr.
Helen Hunt was just closing but he let us in. No birthday cake. . . not a baker in the place until four the next morningùsorry. I spotted a three-tier wedding cake. ôIs that a prop?ö
ôFrankly, thatÆs a disappointment. My wile and I each entered the same order.ö
ôYouÆre stuck with it?ö
ôOh, we may get a wedding cake order unexpectedly.ö
ôEight dollars,ö I said.
He looked at the cake. ôTen dollarsöùthen added, ôCash.ö
I looked at Cliff. He looked at me. I opened my purse and he got out his wallet. We had six fifty-seven. Mr. Helen Hunt stared at the ceiling. Cliff sighed and unpinned his fraternity pin from my blouse, handed it over, and Mr~ Helen Hunt dropped it into the cash register.
- He took the little bride-and-groom off the cake, set candles around each tier, then fetched an icing gun. ôWhat name?ö
ôGabrielle,ö I replied. ôNo, make it æGabbyÆùG, A, double-B, Y.ö
I called Madame OÆToole from there. Madame bends hair for half the girls on the campus. She lives back of her beauty salon and agreed to be panting and ready at seven-fifteen. Fast driving let Cliff drop me at six-ten. Junior was stringing Christmas tree lights across the front porch and Daddy was moving furniture. Mother was swooshing like a restless tornado, a smudge of dirt on her cheek. I kissed Daddy but Mother wouldnÆt hold still.
I made three calls while the tub was filling, then dunked, put my face on, and inserted myself into my almost-strapless formal. Cliff honked at five minutes to seven; he looked swell in a tuxedo a little too small and the darling had two gardenia corsages, one for me and one for Gabrielle. We roared away toward the Snack Shoppe, hitting on all three.
We got there at seven-fifteen. I looked in and saw
Gabrielle at a rear table, looking forlorn and nursing a half-empty coke. She was in a long dress which was not too bad but she, had tried to hse makeup and did not know how. Her lipstick was smeared, crooked, and the wrong color, and she had done awful things with rouge and powder. Underneath she was scared green.
I walked in. ôHello, Gabby.ö - - -
She tried to smile.- ôOhùhello, Maureen.ö -
ôReady to go? WeÆre from the committee.ö
ôUhùI donÆt know. I donÆt feel well. IÆd better go home.ö
ôNonsense! Come onùweÆll be late.ö We got on each side and hustled her out to CliffÆs open-air special. -
ôWhere is the party?ö Gabrielle asked nervously.
ôDonÆt be nosy. ItÆs a surprise.ö Which it was.
Cliff pulled up at Madame OÆTooleÆs before she could ask more questions. Gabrielle looked puzzled but her will to resist was gone. Inside I said to Madame OÆToole, ôYou have seventeen minutes.ö
Madame looked her over like a pile of wet clay. ôTwo hours is what I need.ö -
ôTwenty minutes,ö I conceded. ôCan you do it?ö Over the phone I had told her that she had to create Cleopatra
herself, starting from zip. - -
She pursed her lips and looked the kid over again. ôWeÆll see. Come along, child.ö
Gabrielle looked dazed. ôBut Maureenùö
ôHush,ö I said firmly. ôDo exactly what- Madame tells you.ö
Madame led her away. While we waited Cliff called the Deke house and the senior dorm and stirred out five more men and two couples. It was thirty minutes before they reappearedùand I nearly fainted. -
Madame was wasted hereùShe belonged at the court of Louis Quinze.
And so did Gabrielle. - -
At first I thought she was wearing no makeup. Then I - saw that it had been put on so skillfully that you thought
it had grown there. Her eyes were eight times as big as they had been and looked like pools of secret sorrowùf you know, a woman who has lived Her hair was still brushed -straight back but Madame had done it over. What had been a bun was now a chignonùöbunö wasnÆt the word. Her cheekbones were higher, too. And Madame had done. something to the dressùit clung more and seemed more low-cut. Riding high on her shoulder was the corsage and her skin blended into the petals.
Instead of the beads she had been wearing there was a single strand of pearls -resting where pearls -love to rest. They must have been MadameÆs very own. They looked real. - - -
Cliff gasped so I poked him to remind him not to touch. Gabrielle smiled timidly. ôDo I look all right?ö
I said, ôSister, Conover would shoot Powers for your contract. Madame, youÆre wonderful! LetÆs go; kids. WeÆre late.ö -
You canÆt talk when Cliff is driving, which was good. We got there at twenty past eight; our block was jammed and our house stood -out in colored lights. Junior was on
guard; he ducked inside. --
Cliff took our coats I gave Gabrielle a shove and said, ôGo on in.ö
As she appeared in the living room the Downbeat boys bit it and they all sang:
ôHappy birthday, dear Gabby!
ôHappy birthday to you!ö
And then I was almost sorry, for the poor baby covered her face and sobbed. -
And so did I. Everybody began laughing and talking and shouting and the Downbeat Combo went into dance music, not good but solid, and I knew the party would do. MotheE and I smuggled Gabby upstairs and I fixed my face and Mother shook Gabby and told her to stop crying. Gabby stopped and Mother did a perfect job
fixing what damage had been done. I didnÆt know Mother owned mascara but I am always finding Out new things about Mother.
So we went back down. Cliff showed up with a strange man and said, ôMademoiselle Lamont, permettez-moi de vous presenter MÆsieur Jean Allard,ö which was more French than I knew he had. -
Jean Allard was an exchange student that one of the boys had brought along. He was slender and dark and he fastened himself to Gabbyùhis English was spotty and here was a woman that spoke his language. . . that and Madame OÆTooleÆs handiwork. Be had competition; most of the stags seemed to want to get close tO the new-model Gabby. -
I sighed with relief and slipped out to the kitchen, being suddenly aware that I had missed dinner, a disaster for one of my metabolism. Daddy was there in an apron; he gave me a turkey leg. I ate that and a few Other things that wouldnÆt fit on the plates.
Then I went back and danced with Cliff and some of the stags that had gotten crOwded out around Gabby. When the orchestra took ten it turned Out that Johnny Allard could play piano, and he and Gabby sang French songsùthe kind that sound naughty, -what with the eye-rolling, but probably arenÆt. Then we all sang Alouette which is more my speed.
Gabby was gaining a reputation as a woman of the world. I heard one exùBoy Scout say, ôYouÆve really seen the Folies BergΦre?ö
Gabby looked puzzled and said, ôWhy not?ö
He said, ôGee!ö while his eyebrows crowded his scalp.
Finally we brought out the cake and everybody sang ôHappy Birthdayö again and Mother had -to -repair GabbyÆs face a second time. But by now Gabby could have washed her face and it wouldnÆt have mattered.
Professor Lamont arrived while we were killing the ice cream and cakeùDaddyÆs doing. He and Jean Allard talked French, then I heard Jean ask him, in schoolbook
English, for permission to call on his daughter. Doctor Lamont agreed in the same stilted fashion.
I blinkedùCliff never asked Daddy; he just started eating at our house, off and on.
Around midnight Doctor Lamont took his daughter home, loaded with swag. At the last minute I remembered to run upstairs and wrap up a new pair of nylons that would never fIt Gabby but she could exchange them. So Gabby cried again and clung to me and got incoherent in two languages and I cried some, too. Finally everybody left and Cliff and Daddy and I tidied up the place, sort of. When I hit the bed, I died.
Cliff showed up next morning. We gloated over the party, at least I did. Presently he said, ôWhat about Georgia?ö
.1 said, ôHuh?ö -
He said, ôYou canÆt leave it at this. It ought to be poisoned needles, or boiling lava, but the police are narrow-minded.ö
ôAny ideas?ö
He pulled out the bill for the cake. ôIÆd like to see her pay this.ö -
ôSo would I! But how in the world?ö
Cliff explained, then we composed the letter together, like this: -
Dear Georgia,
Yesterday was Gabrielle LamontÆs -
birthdayùand we gave her the finest party this school has ever seen. Too bad you were hanging
around the Snack Shoppe while the fun was going
on. But we know you would like to give her a present anywayùyou can still pay for the cake.
Put on your best bib and tucker and trot around -
- to Helen HuntÆs. It was a surprise party, so donÆt breathe a word to anyone! (Nor shall we.)
- The Committee
P.S. On second thought it will be-more fun if you
donÆt pay for the cake!
It wasnÆt anon~mous; the bill had our names on it and we pinned it to the letter. I bet Cliff two hamburgers that she wouldnÆt knuckle under. I was wrong. Half an hour after it was delivered Helen Hunt phoned to say that Cliff could have his pin back, the mortgage was lifted.
Monday morning I was at the board earlier than either Cliff or Gabby. GabbyÆs poor little ônoteö was still pinned up, where she had put it Friday. I wondered what she would do; start pretending all over again? -
I spotted her coming up the steps, walking alone and lonely, same as alwaysùand again I wondered if it had done any good. Then somebody shouted, ôHey, Gabby! Wait a minute.ö She stopped and two boys joined her.
I watched her and then Cliff growled at my back, ôWhy the sniffles? Got a cold?ö
I said, ôOh, Cliffi Give me your hanky and donÆt ask silly questions.ö - -
