20

SIMPLE VANISH n: an easy-to-perform sleight of hand used to vanish a coin

 

That night Bernetta couldn’t sleep. It was too hot in her room. Much too hot. She kicked all the blankets and sheets off the bed, rolled her purple pajama bottoms up over her knees, and turned her pillow over so the cooler side would be against her cheek. But she was still wide-awake.

As the red numbers on her alarm clock switched from 12:36 to 12:37, Bernetta thought she heard a car pulling into the driveway. She padded across her room in her bare feet, pulled back her curtain, and checked outside.

Elsa’s blue bug! She was back from camp.

Bernetta crept down the stairs as quietly as she could, trying not to wake anyone up. She made it to the front door just as Elsa pushed it open.

“Elsa!” Bernetta cried, hugging her sister so hard that Elsa dropped her duffel bag. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

Elsa laughed. “You didn’t wait up for me, did you, Netta? It’s so late.”

Bernetta shook her head, nose still buried in her sister’s shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep.” She let out an involuntary sniffle. “I missed you, Elsa.”

“I missed you too.” Elsa hugged her tight. “Netta, is everything okay?”

Bernetta took a deep breath and thought about how best to answer that question. The truth was, everything was not okay. She’d made a mess of things this summer, she knew she had. Counterfeit money? Running scams with a boy she hardly knew? Getting involved with Ashley again? Ashley Johansson?

“No,” Bernetta said, shaking her head again. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh, Netta.” Elsa pulled her back to get a good look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s—it’s just—” She noticed the duffel bag on the floor. The front door was still open. “It’s nothing. You just got home. You probably want to go to sleep. Sorry. I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. I’m tired, I guess.”

Elsa tucked a strand of her silky black hair behind her ear, still perfectly curled, even after midnight. “You’re probably right; you just need some sleep.” She leaned down and picked up her bag.

“How was camp?” Bernetta asked.

“It was good,” Elsa replied. “Only . . .”

“Only what?”

“Only my feet are disgusting. Five weeks out in the forest, you know? I could really use a good toenail polish.” She glanced at Bernetta. “Too bad you’re so tired.”

Ten minutes later they were stretched out on Elsa’s floor. Elsa had changed into her pajamas, and she was painting her toes Georgia Peach. Bernetta rummaged through the dresser drawer, searching for the perfect color. She wasn’t in the mood for Blueberry Bramble, it definitely wasn’t a Tangerine Delicious evening, and she’d chucked the Rustic Red in the garbage.

“So?” Elsa asked. “What’s going on?”

Bernetta took a deep breath and held it. She was practically bursting with all the things she wanted to tell her sister. Everything. All of it. All the lies and deceits and cons and Gabe and Ashley and every last detail. But she couldn’t. For a second she wished she were still Same Old Netta, so she’d know exactly how to tell Elsa what she was feeling. So she wouldn’t have any of these problems in the first place.

But she was a very different Bernetta Wallflower now. She let out all the air in her lungs and took a bottle of polish out of Elsa’s drawer. Ruby Slipper. She examined it closely. Was the new Bernetta a Ruby Slipper kind of girl? She didn’t know. Maybe. She placed the bottle on the floor and picked up another one. Perfect Plum Purple? Was that what she was feeling? Or was she more of a Midnight Frost?

“Netta?” Elsa asked, her voice soft. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

Silver Bells? Easy Being Green? Twirly Girlie Grapefruit?

Bernetta grabbed all the bottles from the dresser and dumped them on the floor.

“Netta?”

Then, all at once, Bernetta gulped and sputtered, and the tears flooded out.

“I . . .” Bernetta said, her face in her hands. “I don’t know what color I want!” She couldn’t help the tears.

Elsa rushed over to her and scooped her up in a hug. She held on tight for a long time. “Shh. Shh, Netta, it’s okay. It’s all right.”

And Bernetta let her say those things, whisper them in her ear as if they were true. But really, were they?

It was several minutes before Elsa let her go. She rubbed Bernetta’s arm softly. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, Netta?”

Bernetta shook her head slowly, swallowing hard. How could she explain to Elsa that she’d spent the whole summer trying to be someone different, and now she didn’t much like the person she’d turned into?

Elsa handed her a tissue, and Bernetta wiped her face. When she thought she had the sobbing under control, she attempted a smile, although it came out more as a sniffle than anything else. “Sorry,” she said.

“That’s okay,” Elsa replied. “It’s been a tough summer, huh?”

Bernetta rolled her wet tissue into a ball. “Yeah. I guess—I guess I missed you.” She tossed the tissue toward Elsa’s trash can, but she was short by two feet. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I should probably go to bed or something.” But she stayed on the floor, staring blankly at the wall.

Elsa didn’t say anything. She just got up slowly and crossed the room to her desk. When she came back, she was holding three sheets of paper, stapled together and creased into fourths. “I was going to give this to you when I left for college, but here.” She handed the pages to Bernetta. “I think you need it now.”

“What is this?”

“My valedictorian speech,” Elsa said. “Go ahead. Read it. I’m going to paint your toenails. No peeking now.”

Bernetta took the papers and read the first sentence while Elsa grabbed her left foot. Good afternoon, friends and family, teachers, and fellow graduates.

“What color are you painting them?” Bernetta asked from behind the speech.

“It’s a surprise. Keep reading.”

Thank you for sharing this occasion with us.

Bernetta skimmed ahead, doing her best not to look at Elsa or her own toes.

People say that these are the best days of our lives, but I know we all have many exciting adventures in front of us. Who knows what our futures hold?

Bernetta could feel the tears pinching at her eyes again. Why was her sister making her read this? So she’d know exactly how thrilled Elsa was about leaving for all her exciting adventures?

“Are you reading?” Elsa asked.

“Yes,” Bernetta grumbled.

But as amazing as our futures will be, I think it’s important to remember the things that shaped our past. I know I wouldn’t be the person I am today—I wouldn’t be up here right now—if it weren’t for the people in my life who cared about me. The people who will stay with me no matter where life may take me.

Bernetta continued reading for a few more lines but then stopped. “Elsa,” she said. “This is about me.”

“Yeah, I know. I wrote it.”

“Why would you write your valedictorian speech about me?”

Elsa swatted at Bernetta’s leg. “No peeking, Netta! I told you! And I wrote the speech about you because you’re my sister, and I’m going to miss you. And I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”

“How much I mean to you?”

“Yeah. Of course it would have been more dramatic and meaningful at graduation, if you’d heard me say it in front of everyone, but . . .”

Bernetta smiled. “This way works too,” she said.

When she finished reading, she waited until Elsa painted the last of her toes, and then she asked, “Are you really going to miss me, Elsa?”

“Are you kidding? How many sisters do you think I have? You can look at your feet now, by the way.”

Bernetta looked.

Elsa had painted each of her toes a different color—baby blue, yellow, cranberry, violet—ten different colors, one for each toe.

Elsa grinned at her. “I wanted to give you options,” she told Bernetta.

Bernetta felt her tears melting away. “Thanks,” she said. And she meant it.

Bernetta helped Elsa put the polish bottles back in the drawer, and when they were done, Elsa gave her another hug. But this one felt less squeezy big sistery and more comforting and understanding. “I don’t know what’s going on with you,” Elsa told her, “but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Bernetta looked down at her rainbow toes. “Maybe,” she said.

“You will,” Elsa replied. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

Bernetta thought about that as she snuggled into bed.

You’re the smartest person I know.

Coming from Elsabelle Wallflower, school valedictorian, it was quite a compliment.

Somehow Bernetta overslept the next morning. When she woke up and saw the red numbers on her clock glaring at her, she jumped out of bed and raced to her dresser, yanking a T-shirt and shorts out of her drawer without even bothering to check if they matched. She slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops and raced out the door as she hollered good-bye to her parents. Then she pedaled into town as quickly as she could, her braid whipping out a rhythm against her back.

Ashley was already there, sitting on the stoop in front of the shoe store when Bernetta dumped her bike on the sidewalk. Gabe was nowhere in sight.

Ashley leaped to her feet. “Look!” she shouted. She did not sound happy. “Look at that!”

Bernetta looked to where Ashley was pointing. The sign in the window of the shoe store. THIS SPACE FOR SALE BY OWNER.

All the windows were covered in thick white paper.

Ashley’s face was red and seemed to be swelling like a balloon. Bernetta wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts and tried to think of something to say. “Um, I guess this means Mike—”

“He left!” Ashley hollered at her. “He’s gone, and he’s stolen our money!” She spat out the word “stolen” like it left a rotten taste in her mouth.

“Yeah,” Bernetta said. She blinked. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

Ashley threw her hands in the air. “Oh, what do you care anyway? You didn’t even put in any money. I put in everything I had! Everything!” Ashley was screaming now, pacing back and forth.

“But you . . .” Bernetta said slowly. “That wasn’t everything you had. You still have ten thousand dollars. The other half of your deposit.”

Ashley came up close to Bernetta and stopped right in front of her, her face just inches away. “There wasn’t any more money. I lied.”

“Oh,” Bernetta said. “I—I didn’t know that.”

Ashley began pacing again. “This is all your fault,” she said.

“What?” Bernetta hollered. She could feel her face getting hot now. “How is this my fault?”

“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you! I wouldn’t have lost all my money!”

“Well, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you!” Bernetta screeched back.

There was more she could have said, much more, about friendship, and school, and trust, and . . . everything, really. All the mean, terrible, awful things that had been boiling inside her head for weeks now. But she didn’t say it, not any of it.

Because at that moment she glanced down at her feet and caught sight of her toes—ten different colors. I wanted to give you options, Elsa had said.

And all of a sudden Bernetta realized that she did have options—dozens of them, maybe even hundreds. A whole rainbow of options. Maybe she couldn’t control if her sister moved away. Maybe she couldn’t control if someone stole from her or if the people she thought were her friends turned out to be con artists and backstabbers. But there were some things she could control. There were a million alternate Bernettas she could become, and she wasn’t going to get roped into becoming one she didn’t like.

Bernetta climbed back on her bike slowly and took a good long look at the abandoned shoe store, chewing on her lip. Then she turned to Ashley.

“Well?” Ashley cried, her hands on her hips. “Don’t you even care? I lost ten thousand dollars! Do you know how much money that is? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Bernetta set her feet firmly on her bike pedals and thought about the one thing she should say to Ashley Johansson. Then, her mind made up, she said it.

“Good-bye, Ashley,” she told her. And she pedaled away.