Read Online The Crazy Things Girls Do for Love by Dyan Sheldon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Dyan Sheldon
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added, “No, I haven’t noticed any like that.”
Someone had also written on the flyer in Dr Firestone’s hand. But it wasn’t a rude or sarcastic remark. What it said, in red, was: “ We will be discussing phase two of our ongoing campaign to protect our primordial oak trees from senseless slaughter.” The flyer dropped back to the desk. “I told him to forget about the trees.” Dr Firestone has a deep, resonant voice that (especially at times like this) always makes Ms Kimodo think of God talking to Abraham. “I told him that it’s time to get his priorities straight. If he wants to do something really useful – such as plant some flowers or hang up bird feeders or raise some money to adopt a rainforest or an orangutan, anything of that ilk – well, then, the whole school would be right behind him.”
“The whole school’s right behind him now,” murmured Ms Kimodo. “By at least ten years.”
Dr Firestone’s fingers tapped a tune on the edge of his desk, which might have been why he didn’t seem to hear her. “But you know what he’s like. He doesn’t listen. All he does is argue. He doesn’t understand how to win friends and influence people. He upsets them with his extremism and left-wing ideas.”
Ms Kimodo leaned forward, trying to make out the tune.
“Are we talking about the drinking-tap-water idea or the not-sticking-electrodes-in-the-heads-of-monkeys idea?” she asked.
But Dr Firestone has not got where he is today by being hampered by a sense of humour.
“You know what we’re talking about, Jocelyn. The sports centre has the approval of the town council and the school board. It’s about progress, not global warming. It has nothing to do with the environment.”
“Well… The trees… I believe Clemens feels…” began Ms Kimodo.
“He’s being unreasonable. I’ve told him that we’ll plant three trees for every one we take down. What more does he want?” Dr Firestone got to his feet. “The bottom line is that your club has six members, Jocelyn – and that’s on a good day. If it doesn’t have at least a dozen by the end of January, I’m afraid that’s it. The school can’t be squandering its resources on lost causes. Am I making myself clear?”
“You couldn’t be clearer if you were made of glass,” said Ms Kimodo. She said this with a smile.
Now, Ms Kimodo finally reaches the door of Room 111 and pulls it open. The first thing she notices is that there are more people inside than usual. Many more. Even Waneeda Huddlesfield, who has never been known to join anything except the lunch queue, is sitting next to Joy Marie.
And then Ms Kimodo sees Sicilee Kewe, smiling as though delighted to be there, but standing off to one side as though also afraid that she might catch something. Today is a pink day for Sicilee. Ms Kimodo would be far less surprised to be told that every soldier in the world has put down his or her weapons and taken up needlepoint than to see Sicilee Kewe at an Environmental Club meeting. Not only is she the unofficial poster girl for over-consumption, but she did once come fairly close to threatening Clemens Reis’s life as well. This can’t be the right room. Her talk with Dr Firestone has discombobulated her. Ms Kimodo takes a step back to check the number over the door and bumps into someone behind her.
Ms Kimodo looks around.
“Cool, man,” says Cody Lightfoot. “I was afraid I was late, but it hasn’t started yet.”
Ms Kimodo smiles the way she does when she is given an unexpected present. But by the time she takes her seat, Ms Kimodo’s smile has vanished. There is obviously going to be a blue moon tonight, thinks Ms Kimodo. Either that or the world is going to end. Ms Kimodo’s pessimism is based on her discovery that not only has Sicilee Kewe shown up today, but Maya Baraberra is there as well. Maya is also standing off to one side (the opposite one to Sicilee), looking bored and not smiling. It is fairly common knowledge
Someone had also written on the flyer in Dr Firestone’s hand. But it wasn’t a rude or sarcastic remark. What it said, in red, was: “ We will be discussing phase two of our ongoing campaign to protect our primordial oak trees from senseless slaughter.” The flyer dropped back to the desk. “I told him to forget about the trees.” Dr Firestone has a deep, resonant voice that (especially at times like this) always makes Ms Kimodo think of God talking to Abraham. “I told him that it’s time to get his priorities straight. If he wants to do something really useful – such as plant some flowers or hang up bird feeders or raise some money to adopt a rainforest or an orangutan, anything of that ilk – well, then, the whole school would be right behind him.”
“The whole school’s right behind him now,” murmured Ms Kimodo. “By at least ten years.”
Dr Firestone’s fingers tapped a tune on the edge of his desk, which might have been why he didn’t seem to hear her. “But you know what he’s like. He doesn’t listen. All he does is argue. He doesn’t understand how to win friends and influence people. He upsets them with his extremism and left-wing ideas.”
Ms Kimodo leaned forward, trying to make out the tune.
“Are we talking about the drinking-tap-water idea or the not-sticking-electrodes-in-the-heads-of-monkeys idea?” she asked.
But Dr Firestone has not got where he is today by being hampered by a sense of humour.
“You know what we’re talking about, Jocelyn. The sports centre has the approval of the town council and the school board. It’s about progress, not global warming. It has nothing to do with the environment.”
“Well… The trees… I believe Clemens feels…” began Ms Kimodo.
“He’s being unreasonable. I’ve told him that we’ll plant three trees for every one we take down. What more does he want?” Dr Firestone got to his feet. “The bottom line is that your club has six members, Jocelyn – and that’s on a good day. If it doesn’t have at least a dozen by the end of January, I’m afraid that’s it. The school can’t be squandering its resources on lost causes. Am I making myself clear?”
“You couldn’t be clearer if you were made of glass,” said Ms Kimodo. She said this with a smile.
Now, Ms Kimodo finally reaches the door of Room 111 and pulls it open. The first thing she notices is that there are more people inside than usual. Many more. Even Waneeda Huddlesfield, who has never been known to join anything except the lunch queue, is sitting next to Joy Marie.
And then Ms Kimodo sees Sicilee Kewe, smiling as though delighted to be there, but standing off to one side as though also afraid that she might catch something. Today is a pink day for Sicilee. Ms Kimodo would be far less surprised to be told that every soldier in the world has put down his or her weapons and taken up needlepoint than to see Sicilee Kewe at an Environmental Club meeting. Not only is she the unofficial poster girl for over-consumption, but she did once come fairly close to threatening Clemens Reis’s life as well. This can’t be the right room. Her talk with Dr Firestone has discombobulated her. Ms Kimodo takes a step back to check the number over the door and bumps into someone behind her.
Ms Kimodo looks around.
“Cool, man,” says Cody Lightfoot. “I was afraid I was late, but it hasn’t started yet.”
Ms Kimodo smiles the way she does when she is given an unexpected present. But by the time she takes her seat, Ms Kimodo’s smile has vanished. There is obviously going to be a blue moon tonight, thinks Ms Kimodo. Either that or the world is going to end. Ms Kimodo’s pessimism is based on her discovery that not only has Sicilee Kewe shown up today, but Maya Baraberra is there as well. Maya is also standing off to one side (the opposite one to Sicilee), looking bored and not smiling. It is fairly common knowledge
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