I Just Got a Letter from Allyson Pringle Read online

  As Alysse chuckled, my mother let out a small puff of relief. “Gosh, I thought Malice was an awfully unusual name. Even Mallyson is different. But now that he reminds me, of course I knew your name was Allyson or Alysse because Kendall has said your name many, many times this past week or two.”

  One many would have been plenty.

  “And that looks like a beautiful dress,” my mother continued, too eagerly. “Is the top the same red plaid taffeta as the skirt?” Thanks to the wedding, Mom was really into dresses lately. I hoped she wouldn’t try to feel the fabric.

  “No, the top’s red velvet,” Alysse said, lifting a soft, shawl-type covering.

  I closed my eyes just in case there might be skin. I’d seen some of the formal dresses on those TV pageants and awards shows, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to have large sections missing. In fact, it was one of the things I’d worried about. Alysse wasn’t LDS, after all, and I had wondered what she would consider a “normal formal.” I opened my eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of Allyson’s nicely narrow and completely covered waist.

  “It looks like a lovely dress for a lovely girl. A very lovely girl.” Mom looked at me accusingly. “Kendall didn’t tell us how darling you are.”

  “I don’t know about that, but your Christmas decorations are sure beautiful, Mrs. Archer,” Alysse said then, quickly and skillfully shifting the attention away from herself.

  It was the perfect thing to say to my mother, who had hurriedly gotten out the Christmas boxes just that morning.

  Fortunately, before my mother could go into too much detail concerning the decorations, and even before she started in on the wedding (her favorite topic lately), my father made his appearance. Unfortunately, he was wearing the falling-apart work pants my mother had asked him not to wear again until she repaired the zipper. I nailed the introduction this time, though, and Dad seemed impressed with Alysse, especially when she brought up the previous evening’s Pistons game. She even got the old man chuckling a little. Unlike her date, Alysse was doing and saying all the right things.

  Since they had been raised in the pre-feminist era, I had already explained to my parents about the limo and why Alysse was picking me up instead of vice versa. When Alysse pulled out a boutonnière for me, I quickly grabbed her corsage from the hall table. She politely made a fuss over it and, a short while later, after Mom located the camera, we found ourselves out on the fairly good-sized front porch. It wasn’t as cold as it had been, which was good, because the limo that Dansco had promised to rent, and that I’d pulled a good chunk of change from my emergency fund to help pay for, was nowhere in sight. “Either they’re playing a trick on us, or they’ve gone to pick up Lindsey,” Alysse speculated. “She lives just a couple of miles from here.”

  “Okay.” I pulled nervously on my bow tie until I remembered my sister’s suggestion that I not fidget. Jerking my hand from my tie, I let it drop to my side like a dead weight. Now, I realized, would be a good time to say one of the things I had practiced in the mirror. I frantically tried to recall some of the witticisms, but the mind is a funny thing. I couldn’t remember one phrase, not a single word. Nothing. It was just as well, since I doubt I would have gotten the words out anyway with my teeth going at it like castanets. Why, I wondered, was I reacting this way? Why was I so intent on proving I was a complete dork? Hey, I was a senior! I was eighteen! Wasn’t I finally beyond that? And, more important, wasn’t this Alysse? I needed to remember that this was Alysse, the good friend I talked to and joked with every day in school. It was just that Alysse was looking and acting so unAlysse-like.

  Alysse apparently felt the need to say something as well. “So, um . . .” we spat out simultaneously.

  “You first,” I insisted quickly, mainly because I had already forgotten what I’d planned to say.

  “I was just going to say that I hope you didn’t tell your parents that I went to homecoming as a Viking last year.”

  “I don’t think I mentioned that,” I assured her, a corner of my mouth lifting ever so slightly.

  “Good, because your mother already thinks I’m plenty interesting.”

  “Why do you say that?” I was under the impression that Alysse had been proper beyond belief.

  “Well, hopefully she’s clear now that my name isn’t Malice, but I noticed her staring at my feet while your dad went to change into better pants. Maybe because I’m wearing these.” Alysse lifted the hem of her shiny skirt to reveal thigh-high rubber boots.

  “Are we going fishing?”

  She giggled at that. “No, we’re not going fishing. Yesterday afternoon I broke five toes, two on my left foot and three on my right. These boots were the only things I could get over my swollen feet.”

  “How on earth did you break your toes?”

  “Tiny snow monsters,” she said without flinching. “Thousands of little snow men and women and their even tinier children. I guess they thought my toes were alien pygmies.”

  The other corner of my mouth joined its partner.

  “Mini snow monsters, huh? Gosh, that must have been traumatic.”

  “Okay, okay, maybe it wasn’t quite like that.”

  “I kinda wondered,” I joked. “So what really happened?”

  “It was pretty boring, actually. This piece of scenery we were making for the holiday talent show slipped and my feet happened to be where it landed. They were so swollen this morning that I thought there for a little while I was a troll.”

  “Ouch,” I said, feeling for her.

  “There’s not a whole lot you can do about broken toes,” she continued. “The foot doctor gave me those big padded shoes to wear, but try wearing two of them. I was walking like this.” She demonstrated.

  “Kind of how you walked in the cowboy skit?” I heard myself tease.

  “Pretty close,” Alysse tucked in the corners of her mouth, but winced as well.

  I felt guilty for making light of her injury. “So are you sure you even want to go? You could have gotten out of this, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know I could have gotten out of this, but maybe I didn’t want to get out of it.” She sidled up to me, and as she did I caught a whiff of mango with a touch of almond, a nice combination.

  “Hey, it’s you and me, remember?” Alysse chuckled happily again. “I’ll bet you’ve been wanting to get out of this in the worst way. I could tell when I came to the door that you were nervous as a blue jay. But you know what? You’re not getting out of this!” She grinned widely and slipped her arm through mine. “Just look at it this way: Since I have this toe problem, at least you won’t need to worry about actually dancing now. That’s one thing you can cross off your list.”

  I wondered how she knew about my list.

  “I admit that might be good,” I said. Then I heard myself add: “My Aunt Betty will be relieved too.” Next thing I knew, I was telling Alysse about the dancing lessons. I even went into a few of the more painful details, such as the “dip” that sent Aunt Betty and me both sprawling. “Let’s just say I’m pretty sure my Aunt Betty won’t be recommending me to So You Think You Can Dance.”

  Alysse thought my description of Aunt Betty and my dance lessons was so funny that she had to sniff and wipe her eyes. I was feeling a whole lot better now. My teeth had even stopped clicking. Unfortunately, my newfound confidence didn’t last. Less than two minutes later, the very long and intimidating limo that I knew was filled with some of the most popular kids at the school pulled around the corner. Once again panic set in. Yeah, they seemed like nice people, but how well did I really know them? I’d heard about the stuff that could go on before and after proms. Alysse must have again read my mind, or maybe she just felt my arm stiffen. “Oh, by the way,” she said, “since this is your first dance, we all decided we’re going to be total Mormons tonight.”

  I pulled back, the smile reappearing. “And everybody’s okay with that?”

  “Well, Caleb wasn’t so excited about it until I reminded hi
m about your leap in my homecoming skit and that Mormons are allowed to have fun and even be funny. I even told him some of the things you’ve said and done in class. In fact, you really need to share what you just told me about your dance lessons. That’s classic.”

  “Nah,” I said very quickly. “You had to be there.” But I was smiling along with her. I had the feeling that things might be going just fine at the Winter Wonderland dance. In fact, I had the feeling that I might even have a really good time on the first date of my life. And I did. Oh yeah, I really did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  As we think back on our lives, we all have those highs—experiences that stand out in our memories like lit-up farmhouses on a wide prairie. My baptism and confirmation, receiving my patriarchal blessing, being ordained to the priesthood, getting my mission call—they were some of the spiritual high points and milestones. And that’s not even taking into account some of the amazing things that happened in the mission field. As far as academics, my graduation from high school was, of course, up there, and there were even a couple of academic honors. But I have to say that sitting on the sidelines at the Winter Wonderland dance with Allyson Pringle, even now, all this time later, still ranks as the social highlight of my life.

  Even though Alysse and I weren’t dancing and weren’t even out there on the floor because of her toe problem, it felt as if we were in the center of a solar system. Classmates called and waved to us, and whole packs came over to talk and joke. For the first full hour or so, members of the group we had come with stayed to visit, taking shifts: Dansco and Tallulah, Lindsey and Carlin, Rhonda and Jake, and even Dee Dee and Caleb. As a joke, Dee Dee had rigged up a halo for Caleb and kept asking if they were acting “Mormon” enough. It turned into kind of a “Simon Says” game and an opportunity for me to share information about the Church. When Caleb, for instance, used a not-so-great word, he glanced my way quickly and said, “Oops, sorry, I’ll bet that’s not in your Mormon dictionary.”

  “I’m guessing you’re right about that,” I agreed, nodding slowly.

  Although I sensed she was listening to everything going on, Alysse was leaning back, her legs propped up on an adjacent chair, her fishing boots well displayed. Sure enough, she got a lot of wisecracks about them. Most people, I’m sure, had no idea she’d injured herself and assumed she had just worn them for the usual reason—because she was Alysse. On the way in, she’d collected bits and pieces that had fallen from the decorations, which she stuck in her hair at odd angles like antennae. The girl just couldn’t bring herself to play it straight.

  “Hey, Alysse!” James Domrose shouted. Five seconds later, Bluebell Wilcox called out, “Hey, Jingle Pringle!” I was surprised when she added, “And it’s JJ and J!” I was even more surprised when her date, a junior on the swimming team, added, “Hey there, Archer!”

  I acknowledged them, but then let Alysse take it from there. As the evening progressed, however, I found myself coming up with one-liners myself, laughing and basking in the fun and attention right along with her. By the middle of the evening, I hardly recognized myself as the nervous kid who’d gotten his tongue twisted a few hours before.

  Even Arnold and Dora stopped by to say hello a couple of times. Arnold, who’d practically done a back flip when I’d told him about my date with Alysse, was, to my relief, a little more subdued now that he was all dressed up. He would wait for Alysse to say something funny, grin at Dora, and then they’d happily take off laughing. Alysse, I couldn’t help but notice, treated Arnold and Dora with the same degree of respect—or shall we say friendly lack of it—as she did Tim McKinley, our student-body president, and his date, the previous year’s homecoming queen.

  I didn’t see Ren Jensen at the dance and wasn’t exactly grieving about that. I’d done my best to avoid him the previous week or two, but Hollenda wasn’t that big of a school, and it had been a tense period. Some of his friends were definitely there, including Bret Nuswander, who didn’t look all that happy that Alysse and I were having such a good time. But everybody else seemed fine about Alysse being with somebody who not only wasn’t captain of the varsity football team but wasn’t even on a team of any description.

  About midway into the dance, things gradually began to tone down for Allyson and me as classmates actually started dancing. We were on the opposite end of the gym from the band, and as the music slowed down, we were able to talk.

  “So, have you always been self-disciplined and civilized and refined?” she asked, her smile softer than usual.

  “Civilized and refined?” I was remembering the belching contests I’d had with my brother growing up. Sure, I had definitely been called self-disciplined before, but those other two adjectives were new to me. “Is that a nice way of saying shy and quiet?”

  “I wouldn’t call you shy at all, especially not tonight. Okay, sometimes—and maybe compared to me.”

  “No, now you are definitely not shy.”

  “Oh, come on, everybody’s shy sometimes.” Alysse puckered her lips, lowered her head, and placed her index finger over her mouth.

  I shook my head. “Sorry, I’m not buying it.”

  “Maybe you just don’t know me that well.”

  I knew her better than she realized, but shy? I shook my head again. “If you’re honestly shy, then you are one great actress, because you have a lot of people really fooled.”

  “I’m glad to hear that because that’s what I want to be—an actress.” She hesitated, biting her lip, then continued. “I’m not kidding. After high school I’m hoping to get into a really good drama school in New York. I have a couple in mind. Seriously, it’s one of my main goals. That and Broadway.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Why?” Wasn’t it obvious? “Umm . . . for starters, you like to wear costumes.” I wasn’t satisfied with my response. “And you’re funny and talented. When you’re up there on a stage, you own it.”

  She lifted her shoulders. “Wow, you really ladle it out!” But then her voice softened again. “I hope I’m somewhat talented. I mean, compared to what’s in New York. I’ve been working at it for a long time. I’ve been to so many plays it’d make you dizzy, and I’ve memorized whole sections of scenes I wasn’t even in.”

  “You really do love this stuff, then, huh? I mean, the character roles. So would you ever consider trying out for a lead?”

  “Maybe if it were Billie Dawn in Born Yesterday or Princess Winnefred in Once Upon a Mattress.”

  “Because, like you say, you’re shy?”

  “Because I’m SHYYYYYYIE!” she belted out.

  “Whoa!” I said, jerking way back.

  “Go Alysse! Yes!” a couple dancing by called out. Several others turned and laughed and waved.

  “Hey, Carol Burnett did it better.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d suggest you not try that in history.”

  Alysse laughed casually, even happily. “Hey, Mr. Thorndike isn’t so bad. I think he and I have worked things out since that Dutch boy costume incident, don’t you?”

  Was she kidding? “Umm, noooo.” I sincerely hoped she was joking. How could she not be aware of the way Thorndike’s mouth twisted when she walked into the classroom, the way he narrowed his eyes as they followed her? I had the feeling he was just biding his time, lying in wait, so to speak, in hopes she would step over that edge she liked to walk along. I’d been meaning to have a little talk with her about the oversized earrings and headgear she’d been wearing to her classes, including history. Warn her. My eyebrows together, I opened my mouth, but Allyson was already moving on.

  “So how about you?” she asked, mischievously pushing her index finger into my upper arm. “Would you ever try out for the lead in a play? In fact, hey!” She lifted her finger and widened her eyes. “You should try out for one of the leads in Bye Bye Birdie.”

  Even though I wasn’t planning to go anywhere near a stage again for quite a while, I’d been excited
when Mr. Hammond, our orchestra teacher, had let us know that Hollenda would be presenting Bye Bye Birdie in the spring. Thanks to the fact that my sister Lynette had found the video at a garage sale one summer and we’d watched it possibly five hundred times, I was very familiar with the play.

  “Believe me, I was doing really well just to be in your homecoming skit,” I said, shaking my head like my dog after a bath. “I think that was about as much stage work as I can handle for a while. I still can’t believe that was me up there. I look back and I think, Nah, that wasn’t me. That was somebody else.”

  Alysse chuckled and smiled widely, her beautiful teeth reflecting the light from the lit-up snowflakes floating near us. “Even I have to admit, those really were some amazing leaps. But hey, I figure a guy who can leap like that can probably learn to tap dance. Plus you’ve got that aunt thing going.” She laughed again. “Aunt Betty, is it? She’d help you, right?” Alysse pursed her lips together and raised her eyebrows.

  I laughed almost cheerily, but knew exactly where she was going with this and thought I’d better squelch it early. “Nuh-uh,” I said. “I’m not trying out for the role of Albert Peterson.” I was referring to one of the more conservative characters in Bye Bye Birdie, the part played by Dick Van Dyke in the movie, at least in the video version we had watched. “But I think I know who you’ll be trying out for,” I added quickly. “Albert’s wacko mother.”

  Allyson’s eyes turned into mini satellite dishes. “Yeah, Mama! How do you know the characters?”

  I told her then about my sister’s try at the Guinness record for the number of times someone watches the same video in one summer. “But don’t worry, I’ll be participating, just not on the stage. More like below it.”

  She caught on immediately. “In the orchestra? No kidding. What do you play?”