George Read online

  “Salutations!” George called out. Her voice was loud and clear, but with a soft lilt that showed Charlotte’s kindness. She looked down to see Kelly holding the ladder steady with one hand as she took pictures of George with the other.

  George heard a gasp onstage below her, and then another, but she kept going. She explained to the animals what salutations were. She smiled and waved to Wilbur and to the audience, as if she were saying hello to the world. The audience smiled back. A small kid even waved.

  Ms. Udell sat in the middle of the front row, frowning, just as she had in the hallway after George’s audition. George looked away. She looked for Mom, to see her reaction, but couldn’t find her in the crowded auditorium.

  The rest of the audience was watching her, waiting for Charlotte’s next line, and George didn’t disappoint. Every word sounded just as she had rehearsed it. She didn’t make a single mistake. She felt like she was floating.

  At the end of the scene, George climbed back down the ladder. Her body felt as light as air, and she wasn’t completely sure her shoes were touching the ground. Kelly squeezed her from behind, grabbing the cotton arms along with George’s waist.

  “Wow, George, that was awesome!” she whispered. “Really.”

  “Thanks.” George beamed a goofy, unfocused grin.

  “You were totally like a girl.” Kelly took George’s hand, one of the real ones. “I mean, you totally are a girl.” Kelly hugged her best friend tightly.

  Jocelyn walked up to them, her fists in tight balls. “You can’t just do that!” she whispered loudly.

  “Why not?” Isaiah whispered back.

  “Yeah.” Chris crowded into the huddle backstage. “Why not? He was good. Better than Kelly, even. No offense, Kelly.”

  Kelly shrugged. “I wasn’t that great.”

  “But it’s disrupting to the other actors,” said Emma.

  Most of the narrators had joined the circle around George, as had a few of the barnyard animals, who were supposed to be clucking and mooing onstage. Rick remained by the curtain rope and said nothing.

  “Hush.” Mr. Jackson approached the group and herded it away from George and Kelly.

  The side curtain moved, and Ms. Udell stepped backstage, her face in a scowl. She headed toward George, but Principal Maldonado appeared directly behind her and put her hand on Ms. Udell’s shoulder. Then she whispered something into Ms. Udell’s ear.

  Ms. Udell looked at George, Kelly, and finally Principal Maldonado. She raised a finger and opened her mouth, but then stopped. She looked over at the play, still in progress, and the audience beyond. She gave a weak smile to Kelly, an even weaker smile to George, then stepped offstage.

  Principal Maldonado gave George a subtle nod, more with her eyelids than her chin. Then she stepped offstage as well. By then, it was nearly time for Charlotte’s next scene. George climbed carefully up the ladder and waited quietly for her cue.

  The play passed by quickly, and yet it seemed to George as though she had been onstage since the beginning of time, as if she were born there and had only now found herself where she had always been. Wilbur performed his silly antics; Templeton raced around to gather sesquipedalian words; the geese clucked around and were generally a nuisance. It was like a real barnyard onstage.

  And at the center of it all, Charlotte provided her friendship and wisdom. George reveled in every moment, sharing her voice with the audience and watching them watch her as they waited for her next words.

  It wasn’t long at all before George gave Charlotte’s final speech. Charlotte was dying. It was the way of things, and she could do nothing but accept her fate. The sadness in George’s voice came from deep inside; she knew her moment onstage was nearly over.

  “Good-bye, Wilbur,” she said as her last words floated into the audience and out of reach. Before she could bear to step down from the ladder, George looked up. Sad faces filled the audience, and younger kids wiped their eyes on their sleeves. Still, she didn’t see Mom.

  The moment George reached the ground, she cried too. She slumped against the backstage wall, hugging her knees, as she cried in sadness and joy. Charlotte was dead, but George was alive in a way she had never imagined. She watched the remainder of the show from the side of the stage, in a heady post-performance glow. Soon the audience began to clap.

  Someone grabbed George’s hand and brought her into the line of performers. Everyone bowed in unison. Then the human characters moved up for a second bow. The applause grew stronger as Chris, who had played Templeton, stepped forward. Isaiah hopped onto his hands and knees to oink like a pig once more, to laughter and even more applause.

  George felt someone push her gently, and she let her feet guide her to the front of the stage. The auditorium was filled with hands clapping louder than ever. She blinked a few times, and then saw Ms. Udell motioning for her to bow.

  George looked out on the crowd and did the only thing that made any sense. She curtsied. She wore no skirt to hold daintily, but she didn’t need it. She was graceful, and she held on to the moment as tightly as she could, even after the curtains were pulled shut.

  The class clapped and hooted and howled. A few kids patted George on the back. “Way to go,” they said, and, “You were awesome!”

  “Congratulations to you all!” Mr. Jackson cried as he stepped out from backstage. “You were fantastic! Including our surprise star!” Mr. Jackson smiled at George. “Now, there are a lot of excited families here, eager to congratulate you. I suggest you get out there!”

  George worked her way through the split in the curtain and surveyed the audience. Kids weaved around, finding their parents and saying good night to their friends. Chris re-created some of his favorite moments. Kelly bounced around, taking photos. Nearby, her father gave George a giant thumbs-up sign. In the back, Rick slipped out the auditorium door. He had come alone. George wondered whether he would say anything to Jeff.

  George heard her name coming from kids talking to their parents, as well as the word boy. Adults’ heads turned her way. Most looked at her with open faces of surprise. A few smiled and waved. Others crinkled their faces in disgust. George stepped offstage and out of view of staring eyes.

  Mom made her way up the main aisle. Her stern face stood out in the crowd. George felt as if she were frozen in place.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” Mom said. “I didn’t even know it was you at first. I thought it was supposed to be Kelly, but then I realized I was seeing my son onstage, and nearly everyone in the audience thought he was a girl.”

  George’s lips quivered, but her voice was clear. “I did too.”

  “Did what?”

  A bit of Charlotte’s confidence still coursed through her. “I already told you. I’m a girl.”

  Mom’s face turned to stone and her mouth grew small. “Let’s not talk about this right now.”

  George noticed Principal Maldonado heading toward them, a soft smile on her face.

  “Congratulations! You were wonderful!” she said to George, then turned to Mom. “Your kid was great tonight. You just might have a famous actor on your hands someday.”

  “Thank you.” Mom smiled politely. “He certainly is special.”

  “Well, you can’t control who your children are, but you can certainly support them, am I right?” Principal Maldonado’s earrings sparkled in the auditorium light.

  “Excuse us,” said Mom, searching awkwardly in her purse for some imaginary item. “But we’ve got to get home to dinner.”

  “Well, make sure the star gets extra dessert tonight!” Principal Maldonado put her arm around George. She smelled of vanilla.

  “I certainly will,” said Mom.

  “That was beautiful, George. Really beautiful.” Ms. Maldonado put her lips close to George’s ear and whispered, “My door is always open,” before she slipped away.

  Mom took George by the hand and walked brusquely through the lingering crowd. Once they were out in the hallway, the murmurs from t
he auditorium were quieter, and their footsteps echoed. Outside, it was dark enough that the streetlamps had turned on, but the sky still held a bit of light. Mom jiggled her keys in her palm. Neither she nor George said a word.

  At home, they watched a dancing competition on television as they ate a dinner of spaghetti. Scott was still off at Randy’s. George noticed that Mom kept looking over at George, but when George looked back, Mom had her eyes fixed on the television screen, even if it was showing commercials, which she usually hated.

  Neither Mom nor George mentioned the play that evening, but once George was up in her room, she twirled around and around like a spider dancing on a web.

  Kelly stood in a circle of girls in the school yard the next morning, telling an animated story, but she stopped when she spotted George. They pointed and called her over.

  “And here’s our hero!” said Kelly, smiling and holding her hands out as if she were a model presenting a new car on a game show.

  “How did you know all the words?” Maddy asked.

  “What was it like to play a girl onstage?” asked Ellie.

  “I didn’t even realize you were a boy at first,” said Aliyah, a girl from Mr. Jackson’s class who had been one of the barnyard animals.

  “I heard you were really good,” said Denise, who hadn’t been there.

  “I still don’t think you should have done it,” said Emma, who had been a narrator. “It could’ve messed everything up.”

  “Besides,” said Jocelyn, “you’re a boy. Why would you want to play a girl’s part anyway?”

  “I couldn’t even imagine being a boy onstage, even if everyone knew I was really a girl. I just couldn’t do it,” said Maddy.

  “Yeah, it would be too embarrassing,” said Denise.

  Comments came flashing at George faster than she could respond, which was a relief, because she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she shrugged and smiled weakly. She wished she could be Charlotte now. Then she could answer all their buzzing with sage words of advice, instead of drowning in questions.

  George heard dreadful laughter behind her. It was a familiar snicker that swelled into a snorting guffaw—Jeff’s laugh. Before she could prepare, Jeff was in front of her, Rick at his side. Jeff pushed George’s shoulders with the base of his hands. He didn’t push hard, but George hadn’t been ready, and she stumbled back. The crowd of girls dispersed, leaving Jeff and Rick facing George and Kelly.

  Jeff snickered again. “I heard you were in our class play, Charlotte.”

  “He was, and he was great!” said Kelly.

  “Oh, shut up. I’m talking to George here. He’s more of a girl than you’ll ever be.”

  “Leave her alone!” George yelled.

  “Or else what?” asked Jeff.

  “Just leave her alone.” George stared at the ground.

  “C’mon, Jeff. Let’s go.” Rick tugged at Jeff’s elbow. “You promised if I told you what happened that you wouldn’t mess with him.”

  “Whatever,” said Jeff, flicking his finger on George’s forehead. “This freak pukes. I like this shirt, and my mom still can’t get his stink out of the last one.”

  Jeff cracked up and walked off with Rick.

  “Forget them,” said Kelly. “I’ve got a surprise. My uncle Bill’s taking us to the zoo on Sunday!”

  George crinkled her nose. Zoo air smelled like animal poop. Besides, she and Kelly had decided last year that the Smithfield petting zoo was for babies. They had more ducks than anything else, and their most exotic showing was a crusty old pony that had recently celebrated its fortieth birthday.

  “Not the Smithfield Snoozefest, you dope.” Kelly rolled her eyes. “He’s gonna drive us down to the Bronx Zoo. They have over six hundred species. Tigers and gorillas and giraffes, not goats and sheep. They’ve even got panda bears! You’re free on Sunday, right?”

  “I guess,” George said.

  “Because I was thinking.” Kelly lowered her voice. “The Bronx Zoo is super-far away, and we won’t see anyone there we know. You’ve never met my uncle, have you?”

  George shook her head.

  Kelly grinned. “Don’t you get it? We can go as best girl friends. We can dress up and everything!”

  George’s mouth hung open. George already knew Kelly was her best friend, but they had never been girls together before. George had never been a girl with anyone, if you didn’t count being Charlotte.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Like a skirt?” The hair on George’s neck tingled just saying the word skirt.

  “Sure. When girls dress up, they wear skirts. I have a lot to teach you about being a girl, Geor—Oh.” Kelly stopped. “My uncle’s going to figure out something’s up the moment I call you George, isn’t he?”

  George thought about her private name. She had never said it out loud before, not even to her friends in the magazines. “You could always call me Melissa,” she said now.

  “Melissa,” said Kelly, her eyes wide. “I like it. That’s a great name for a girl.” She said it again, drawing out each sound. “Me-lis-sa. That’s perfect!”

  George buried her chin in her shoulder and felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “Are you okay?” Kelly asked.

  “Yeah,” said George. “It just sounds really good to hear.”

  “I can say it again. Melissa. Melissa Melissa Melissa!” Kelly began to twirl around George, stretching her arms out wide with each Melissa.

  George clapped her hand over Kelly’s mouth.

  “Are you crazy? Jeff is right over there!” George jerked her head to the side.

  “So? I’ve got a friend named Melissa. He doesn’t know who I’m talking about. It’s none of his business anyway.”

  Kelly danced around George, singing the name Melissa until George giggled and turned beet red. She had never heard her girl name out loud before, and now Kelly had made it into a song.

  The morning bell rang and the mass of students in the school yard formed into a series of lines. As George walked up the stairs to Room 205, she listened to Kelly’s tune still echoing in her mind.

  Melissa Melissa Melissa …

  Mom was sitting on the couch when George got home, her laptop in front of her and a can of orange-flavored seltzer on the side table. A soap opera ran on the television with the sound turned low.

  “Come over here, Gee.” Mom patted the space on the couch next to her, closed the computer, and turned off the television. She took a few deep breaths before speaking.

  “You were great in the play yesterday. I know I acted surprised at first, but I’m really proud of you for being yourself. What did the kids at school say?”

  George shrugged. “Not much. Jeff was a jerk.”

  “What’s new? You’re one tough cookie. But the world isn’t always good to people who are different. I just don’t want you to make your road any harder than it has to be.”

  “Trying to be a boy is really hard.”

  Mom blinked a few times, and when she opened her eyes again, a teardrop fell down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Gee. I’m so sorry.” She pulled George toward her and hugged her tight. “You really do feel like a girl, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do. Remember that time I was little, when you found me wearing your skirt as a dress?”

  “Yes.”

  “And remember how I wanted to be a ballerina and it drove Scott crazy because he said I couldn’t because I was a boy?”

  “I remember the temper tantrum you threw when I didn’t get you a tutu.”

  “Are you upset with me?”

  “Oh, baby, no.” Mom stroked George’s hair and sighed deeply. “But I do think you need someone to talk to. I probably could use someone too. Someone who knows about these things.”

  George knew that seeing a therapist was the first step secret girls like her took when they wanted everyone to see who they were. “And then maybe I could grow my hair out and be a girl?”

  “One step at a tim
e.” Mom wiped away another tear that had drifted down to her cheek. She cleared her throat. “Now how’s about that homework?”

  George pulled out her vocabulary assignment and began to work at the table while Mom went to the kitchen to start making dinner. Mom poured a box of corn bread mix into a bowl along with eggs and milk. George noticed that she mixed with quiet efficiency, holding her whisking arm tight to her body. She didn’t hum or dance the way she often did when she cooked.

  The house was quiet until Scott arrived home with the clatter of his bike hitting the pavement. He dashed through the house and up to the bathroom.

  “Ahhhhhh,” he said when he sauntered back down the stairs. “No wonder they call it relieving yourself. That was a good one!”

  “Scott, go put your bike in the shed. And, Gee, set the table. It’s almost dinnertime.”

  Mom portioned grilled chicken wings with barbecue sauce, corn bread, and steamed broccoli onto three plates, and set them out on the table. George filled three glasses with iced tea and brought out forks, knives, and napkins.

  Over dinner, Scott complained about the unfairness of his latest social studies test, and told the story of Mike the Headless Chicken, a real chicken that had lived without a head for eighteen months in the 1940s. When Scott acted out the part of Mike, using the chicken wings on his plate, George laughed so hard she almost choked. Even Mom chuckled.

  And that night, when George went to her bedroom, she found her denim bag on her bed, with all of her magazines still inside.

  George awoke before the sun and couldn’t fall back asleep. She’d never been this excited for the zoo before, not even when she was little. When the dark cloudy sky revealed its first shades of purple, George slipped out of bed and settled down on the couch with some cereal and the remote control, but nothing on television caught her interest. It was too early for anything good to be on. She tried playing Mario Kart but kept losing focus and falling into deep lava pits.

  The sky had begun to lighten, but there were still nearly two hours before she was supposed to leave for Kelly’s house. She went out to the backyard, where her sneakers squeaked on the dew-soaked spring grass.