The Makeover of James Orville Wickenbee Page 10

  Yes, I would have much preferred to have been whispering to gorgeous Scott Wilkes myself, but unfortunately he wasn’t on our committee. And no, it wasn’t easy for me, but what choice did I have? When a friend finds himself flailing in water over his head, you jump in and help him out. I just hoped we weren’t making all this effort only to end up sinking together into some deep abyss.

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Alex, but there’s no turning back. If we don’t continue giving it all our effort these next couple of days and do everything we can to get James elected, I know we’ll be sorry. Sure, the chance that there will be a big payoff later is extremely small, but since James refused to back away from this, we really had no choice but to at least try to help him.” And it will all be over soon, I added to myself.

  “I’m with you!” Alex said, flipping out his hand, palm- side up.

  I gave him five, and he gave me five right back and then, grinning, almost beaming, my brother did some kind of fancy hand thing. I hesitated but then reciprocated with a hand thing of my own. Shaking my head, I couldn’t help smiling at my brother’s obnoxious, but naïve exuberance. He could be so juvenile.

  “You’re definitely a dork,” I said, my voice a mixture of disgust and love. “But then,” I added, with a half sigh, “aren’t we all?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  •••

  To my satisfaction, the makeover project on James had become the talk of the school. On Wednesday I actually overheard a girl in the restroom call James “yummy.”

  “Well, I mean except for those fake glasses. Are they hysterical, or what?”

  “I know. This is almost as good as Ultimate Makeover,” said her friend who sported a bright yellow crew cut.

  When I told James at lunch about the compliments I’d been hearing, he seemed more concerned than excited. “People seem to be paying more attention to what’s going on with the way I look than my ideas for the school,” he complained.

  “That’ll come,” I said. “We get you the image, then you get listeners. That’s how it works.”

  He sighed, nodded, and pushed back his glasses. James knew I was making sense.

  -B-

  That night, James came over for his last makeover session. Amazingly, his biceps had filled out in just those few days. He was also looking really good in Alex’s jeans and a blue T- shirt.

  “I got you new glasses,” I said, removing his baseball cap so it didn’t push down his ears.

  “I think mine are fine,” said James.

  “No, James, they’re really not.” I held out my hand. “I promise I’ll keep them in a safe place for you.”

  James did not hand over his glasses.

  “Please, James. We both know you can’t keep wearing those and expect to win this election.”

  Again, James pushed his glasses tighter against the bridge of his nose. “I like these old glasses. Okay, they may not be the latest style, but I’ve worn them since seventh grade.”

  “I can tell,” I said, “but I have a gift for you.” I pulled a slim glasses case from my bag and slid out the slick new designer frames I’d just picked up at Derricott Optical. “Contacts would be better— that’s what Alex and I wear— but it takes time to get used to them. The first week Alex wore his contacts he didn’t apply enough moisture or something. One got stuck in his eye and it took him a full hour to pry it out. You can’t risk walking around with bloodshot eyes right now. And since you’re farsighted, I don’t know if contacts would even work anyway. Besides, you won’t need to wear glasses all the time. When you don’t need them, just slip them into your shirt pocket.”

  “Maybe I could get a cord or something and just hang my glasses around my neck where they’ll be handy,” James suggested.

  “Yes, and we could also call you Dame Edna.” I turned and widened my eyes at Alex, then turned back to James. “No, I don’t think so. Let’s stick with your shirt pocket.” I showed him how quickly he could slip his glasses into his pocket, one ear handle over the pocket edge. “Then, you pull them out, see? Voila!” I flipped them open, ready for use. “Details matter, James.”

  James pushed his old glasses even tighter against his head.

  “Under no circumstances are you to peer over these new glasses. This is important. Also, no more shaking hands these last couple of days. We should have discussed this right from the beginning. Shaking hands is fine for your brothers who are missionaries, but you’re to give people five. Better yet, point at them.”

  “Now wait a minute, Mom said pointing is rude,” said Alex in a high nasal voice. He grinned and pointed at me. “I remember.”

  “Not if you point the right way— like this.” I demonstrated how I’d seen the football jocks lumber down the hall, stop, lean back, lift their head, extend their index finger at the party they were greeting, then continue. “At least that’s how I’ve seen you do it, Alex,” I said lifting my eyebrows at my brother, who was pressing his fist over his mouth in an effort not to laugh at my imper sonation of a jock. “But let’s practice the high fives first,” I said, ignoring him.

  Sadie, who, it turned out, had some excellent computer skills, was nearby, working away on our agenda for the following day. Other committee members had come as well to watch this final big unveiling. Cassie, who was sharing a sweet roll with Bud, handed him a napkin. They interacted a great deal like Alex and I did.

  “Okay, everybody, come join us. Let’s all practice the high fives.”

  Sadie turned away from the computer with a big sniff, stood up slowly and looked toward her cousin Derrick and then at Cassie. “Right here, Sadie,” I said, lifting my hand. She gently patted my palm. “Let’s try that again with a little more power this time.”

  Sadie bit down on the tip of her tongue, and slapped my palm with much greater energy.

  “Good job!”

  Soon all the committee members were giving each other high fives, or at least trying. Most of the time, they connected. Bud thought it was great fun to lift his hand so high that people had to jump to reach him. “You’re going to have to stick to low fives,” I told him. Then I suggested the committee members stand in a row and let James walk by and give each person a high five and a low five. Gradually the slapping died down. “Okay,” I said, turning to James. “The time has come. We’re all here to back you up, but it’s time to turn in your glasses.” I reached for James’s glasses once again.

  “Maybe later.”

  “James, there is no later. You’ve got to do this,” I said with exasperation. “Come on, you’re being stubborn!”

  James sighed deeply. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Just give me a few seconds.” James took a deep breath, slowly lifted his glasses from his nose, and stared at them. Sadie put her hand over her mouth, Cassie applauded softly, and Adriana stretched her lips at me in amazement.

  James walked over to the desk drawer and pulled out an old brown glasses case. He pushed the glasses carefully inside, tucked it closed, placed the case in the drawer, and pushed the drawer shut. After he’d studied the new glasses, he slid them onto his nose and pushed them against his forehead. It was a symbolic moment.

  “Now,” I said, “come take a look in the mirror.”

  James followed me to the mirror, where he studied himself intently. He moved closer to the mirror and then backed up a little. “These aren’t all that bad. I can see pretty well through them.”

  “That’s not surprising since I got the prescription from your mother. But let’s talk about the important part: How do you look in them?”

  Adriana was happy to give her opinion. “I really like his eyes in them,” she said. “You look great, James.”

  “Thanks, Adriana,” James said with surprising poise considering he’d probably never received a compliment from anyone as decent-looking as Adriana before.

  “Okay, James, now let’s practice having you slip these new glasses into your shirt pocket,” I said.

  James did as he w
as told and did a good job. “Okay everyone! Meet Super- Jim.” I turned James around. “What do you think, folks?”

  Sadie moved her hair out of her eyes. “You look . . . uhhh . . . super.” She snorted, then giggled.

  “Wowsers!” screeched Cassie. “WOW— SERS!” She began doing a jig then, portions of her body shifting from side to side. I honestly didn’t mind hearing her shouts of enthusiasm that day. They were echoing my own sentiments!

  “Alex, can you find that old instant camera? I still haven’t been able to get our new digital to work— something’s wrong with it— and we need a picture right this second of our creation.”

  “I brought my digital camera,” Terrance said shyly.

  “Good job, Terrance!” I was impressed. “We need to enlarge this next picture for our banner by tonight. Tomorrow, James, you’re Super- Jim. On second thought, let’s not have you wear glasses at all for the final photo.”

  Terrance lifted his camera and pressed a button to zoom in on James’s face.

  “Wait a sec,” I said. James’s hair was pressed down too tightly and needed just a little help before Terrance snapped the photo. As I fluffed James’s hair with my fingers, I happened to glance into James’s eyes. The sunlight from the window across the room was reflecting in them and I gasped. When he wore his glasses, especially the old ones, you hardly noticed his eyes. Now I could see that James had the clearest, bluest eyes imaginable. “My stars, Adriana, you’re right.”

  “What?” asked James with concern. “So now what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Something’s very right. I just noticed that you have incredible eyes! In fact, Terrance, let’s snap the picture from this angle. Right now.” I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed this amazing asset before. It was like finding a diamond in sandstone. “James, your eyes are . . . Here, everybody look at James’s eyes!”

  Sadie came up close, unusually close for her, I thought, until I remembered that she too was farsighted and had broken her own glasses a few days before. Not that you ever saw her glasses with the way her hair always covered her face. Now she pushed some wisps away from her eyes. “Wowsers!” She jerked back, lowered her head in surprise at herself, drew in her breath, but then couldn’t help herself and moved closer again.

  Wowsers? Now Sadie was saying it.

  “Double, no, triple wowsers!” added Cassie, equally enthralled.

  “Are they great eyes or what?” I said.

  “You just might win this thing,” garbled Garlie.

  “Because of my eyes?” Once again I could tell this bothered James. “I’d rather people listened to my ideas. But I guess this will all be over soon.”

  “The eyes are conduits of the soul,” I proclaimed, unsure whether I was making that up or if I’d read it somewhere.

  “That is a nice thought, Jana.” James smiled at me then— a from the heart, appreciative, albeit slightly weary, smile that definitely involved those killer eyes.

  What I felt like doing was giving him a lung- collapsing Cassie- type bear hug! Instead, I wrapped my arms around myself and twirled. I was even more excited now than I’d been at the very beginning of our project. James had good broad shoulders; well- developed biceps; hair that was looking fantastic, thanks to Raphael’s magic with a pair of scissors; passable ears; and, now that his teeth were whitened, an excellent smile. But James had eyes that knocked a person right into the central hall. They were possibly the best eyes at Fairport! What a perfect finish to our makeover!

  “The eyes have it!” I proclaimed. “James!” I turned to him quite suddenly. “I’ve changed my mind about your new glasses. I don’t want you to wear them at all.”

  “But I need glasses to read.”

  “Okay, wear them just when you read. When you walk down the hall, keep them in your pocket. Once the girls discover your eyes, we’ve got the female vote at Fairport!”

  This was too much for James. He plopped into a corduroy chair, sighed, and shook his head. It was no time to pout and I didn’t let him get away with that. “Let’s celebrate!”

  I pulled James up and started dancing with him. Cassie hooked on to the back of James, and then Derrick held onto her sash and started doing a derivative of the funky chicken. Terrance latched on to Cassie and started moving his arms in a kind of hokey pokey. Garlie looked like she was planning to keep holding up the wall as she chewed the end of a pencil. I pulled her in, took away her pencil, and pushed her toward Bud. Their vast contrast in height made them quite the striking duo.

  My brother pulled Sadie away from the computer. “Come on, Sadie, my Lady,” he said, dipping her to the floor. Did she ever snort that time! Next Alex pulled a couple of newer committee members into the action— Lotus Leaf Malouf, and Larry Lagardi, better known as Larry the Lard. Had he been fifty or so pounds heavier, he could have been Cassie’s other bookend.

  Alex and I smiled at each other because Adriana was staring at all of this in amazement. “I hope you’re not one of those double agents,” I joked as I danced by her, “because there’s some juicy action going on here that Carson and Lyla’s troop would probably really relish hearing about.” It was true. This was a regular geek- dork fest we were hosting.

  Adriana laughed. “Yeah, I’m just wondering who’s transforming who here?” It was her way of letting me know that Alex and I were beginning to act as if we fit right in with this unusual group of people. And maybe we did! Strangely, at that moment, it didn’t matter. The following day was the election and after that things would get back to normal. Yes, it would all be over soon, but right now we were having a pretty good time.

  Adriana watched us for a while, fascinated, and then apparently decided she didn’t care that much either. With an “aw, what the heck” expression, she hooked on to the back of Lotus and started doing a combination hokey pokey and funky chicken.

  -B-

  I can’t remember going home that night, but we must have. I can’t remember inviting the committee to meet at James’s that Friday afternoon after the primary election either, but Alex and

  I were there along with everyone else. I told myself we were there to comfort James and that we should prepare for the worst. I told the others that too. But it was obvious by the anticipation in their eyes that, like me, they were hoping beyond hope that there really was such a thing as a miracle. And then the phone rang.

  “How’d it go, Buddy? . . . What? No kidding?” Alex turned in our direction, but then jerked back to the phone. “Wait, let me make sure I heard you right. Repeat that.” When Alex turned to us again, his face had lit up like a Christmas tree. He turned back to the phone one more time. “You’re not pulling my chain, right?”

  “Tell us!” I almost shouted as we closed in on Alex.

  Alex pulled the phone from his mouth. “James made the finals!”

  “Is this a joke?” I grabbed the phone from my brother. “James? James, you’re really in? Oh, my stars, you’re really in the finals?”

  “That’s what they’re telling me,” James said, his voice cracking a little.

  “It’s true!” I turned to the others, laughing, almost crying. “It’s honestly true!”

  “Whoopteedoopteedoo,” Derrick crowed.

  Terrance began pummeling a couch cushion. “Whooeeee!” He pummeled it again.

  What Cassie shouted is, of course, no mystery.

  Garlie and Bud started swing dancing. Sadie pushed her hair from her face, stretched out her arms and flapped them.

  I didn’t bother to ask James who else had made it to the finals. Lyla had run a brilliant campaign. But that James had defeated popular people like Marla Lopez, Lucas Hart, and Jacey Pruitt was beyond imagination. I grinned and clapped my hands together. It would take more than a miracle to beat Lyla, but right now that didn’t matter. We’d made it to the finals! Maybe Lyla thought it was over, and maybe it was, but we were in the finals! Even if we lost in the end, we’d gotten this far and that in and of itself was miraculous and
seemed to legitimize all our efforts.

  I sat down on the couch and narrowed my eyes. But we weren’t finished yet. Oh, no, we had much more to do. Maybe our chances were slim as far as really winning, but I’d personally see to it that Lyla Fannen would remember this race. Oh, yes, she’d know she’d run against us!

  “Okay!” I stood up again. “Okay, we have a lot of work to do and there’s no time to waste!” I knew that the biggest vote- getter would be the finalist speech coming up the following Wednesday. Those short speeches would determine the winners and the losers. “Derrick, Sadie, I have another computer assignment for one of you. We’ve got to work on James’s speech right now! Alex, where’s Alex?” Alex was standing in the corner, punching the wall and laughing to himself. “Come here, Alex . . . Adriana, any chance you’d have time to help us brainstorm?” This needed to be a joint effort because this speech needed to be absolutely perfect: funny, clever, a real attention-grabber. “The celebrating is over,” I announced. “Let’s get back to work!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  •••

  “I’d really like to keep this speech simple and straightforward,” James reminded us again on Monday.

  “Uh- huh.” I was tired and annoyed and I just didn’t want to hear it anymore. On Wednesday morning he would be standing on the auditorium stage in front of the entire student body and we weren’t even close to having his presentation ready. The second he stepped up to that microphone, it would no longer be enough for James just to look good. He needed to sound good as well. This speech would need to leave no doubt whatsoever in anyone’s mind that James really was Super- Jim, Fairport’s next president.

  “It’s past time I present my ideas for the school to the students,” James continued. “They need to know what I stand for.”