Read Online Chasing Orion by Kathryn Lasky - Free Book Online

absolutely squillions of proms because that vase was stuffed with them. Then there was another picture of her with a bunch of really cute girls all piled up on the hood of a car.
    But the bedroom had a strange quality. It was sort of like a time capsule of a very short life. I had read a book that summer about the lost city of Pompeii. They had described it as a place where time had stopped. Where bodies of people had been found almost perfectly preserved in hardened volcanic ash at the moment of death. There was even a photograph of a chained dog gasping for air as it suffocated in the surge of falling ash and poisonous gases. That is what Phyllis’s room reminded me of — a lost city, like a city we have never seen, nor could imagine, that had been inhabited by the ghosts of a previous life, her life before she got sick, and the ghost of Phyllis herself seemed to fill the room. I found the box of makeup and got out.
    “Did you like my room?” she asked when I came back.
    “Yeah, it’s really pretty.” Understatement of the year.
    “Did you see the pictures?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you see the ones of me and my boyfriend?”
    “That was your boyfriend?” She nodded.
    “What did you think?”
    “He looked pretty cute.”
    “Pretty cute? Raymond — he’s gorgeous!”
Is?
I thought.
Is he still her boyfriend?
    “Do-d-do —” I began to stutter.
    “Do I still see him?” Her voice was almost sharp.
    “Yeah.”
    “No. He’s got another girlfriend now.” She didn’t even sound especially bitter. But I was shocked.
    “He does?”
    “Well, it’s not exactly surprising, Georgie, now, is it? I mean it’s not like we were married. It’s not like in sickness and in health.”
    “B-b-b . . . but were you going steady?”
    “Yes, but that is not being married, you know.” She spoke in an off hand way.
    “I know,” I said in a low voice. I hoped she didn’t think I sounded stupid.
    “Come on, let’s get out the makeup.”
    It was fun; I have to admit. And Phyllis had every color and brand ever displayed on the drugstore lipstick rack — Hazel Bishop, Max Factor, and on and on. The first one I tried on was called Red as All Get Out! Needless to say, we didn’t have to get a mirror.
    “Overpowering,” Phyllis declared. “The only person who could wear that is Lucille Ball. My mother saw her in person once.”
    “Oh, the
I Love Lucy
show. That’s my favorite.”
    “Yeah, too bad color television isn’t here yet. She’s got incredibly red hair according to my mother.”
    “But people say color television is coming.”
    “I’m not holding my breath.”
    I froze when Phyllis said this. She started to laugh in that hiccuppy way. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s a joke, Georgie!” Then she paused and her face became serious. “Of course, I’m the only person who can make breathing jokes. Etiquette, you know.”
    “Huh?”
    “You know — like it’s not polite to make jokes about Jews if you’re a Christian or colored people if you’re not colored.”
    “Oh,” I said. I didn’t quite get it because I had never wanted to make jokes about Jewish people or colored people.
    But in any case, I went on with the makeup. She even let me put some on her lips. There was perfume in there, too. The expensive one called Evening in Paris. But the best thing of all was a lipstick holder that was a little stand with two holes and a poodle in between.
    “You can have that,” she said, casual as anything.
    “Really? Are you sure?”
    “Yes, and pick out two lipsticks to go in it.”
    I picked out one called Peachy Keen and another one called Cherries in the Snow.
    “I’ll tell you a beauty secret: if you put white lipstick over the Cherries in the Snow, it’s absolutely gorgeous. There’s a white lipstick in there someplace. You can have it, too. Just paw around for it. You’ll find it.”
    When Sally came out, Phyllis asked her to bring down her jewelry box. As I opened it up, Phyllis said,