Very Junior Miss

At Sunday breakfast Kilty Morrow became aware of the look of baffled disapproval on her mother’s face. She sighed heavily and said, “What is it, Mother?”

“Your hair, child,” Laura said.

“Here we go again,” Walter Morrow muttered without looking up from the paper.

“Mother, my hair is as clean as can be,” Kilty said.

“Kilty, you’re going to be sixteen in three weeks, and look at you! You don’t have any pride. You’re a nice-looking girl, and for all you care...”

“How about Friday night, Mother? How about that?”

“Now don’t start using that argumentative tone of voice with me, young lady. Friday night you looked lovely for about half an hour. It took me two full hours to coerce you into that condition. In two minutes you got a smudged face and a torn dress. When I was your age...”

Walter sighed so deeply that Laura turned and stared at him. “What’s wrong with you?”

“For one moment, my dear, it sounded like a phrase I’d heard before.”

“There’s no need for sarcasm. She’s your daughter too. Most of the time Kilty looks like a — like a coal-heaver.”

“You keep saying that, Mother. What is a coal-heaver?”

“Someone who heaves coal,” Walter said. “Look, kitten, we’re going to the outdoor buffet at the club today. Very probably your mother’s girlhood chum, one Marie Birch, will be there, complete with husband and daughter. Sandra Birch, whom your mother is about to mention as being younger than you, will look very chic, no doubt.”

“Oh, her!” Kilty said with unlimited scorn. “Birchie isn’t any fun any more. Boys, boys, boys. Enough to make you sick. Say, you know what she does at night? She told me. She has horrible mitten things and she fills them with glop to make her hands pretty and sleeps with them on. How about that?”

“Kilty Morrow, you are going with us to the club and you are going to do something about that hair and you are going to wear your green dress. Is that quite clear?”

“Mother, that’s so pointless! I’ll be in the pool most of the time. And for the Sunday buffet you can eat in your suit. All the other kids will. And Tommy has been helping me work on my jackknife. I wasn’t getting high enough off the board, and—”

“The green dress, Kilty.”

“Oh, all right!” Kilty said.

Walter gave her a meaningful stare. Kilty blushed and said, “I didn’t mean to speak like that, Mother.”

“All right, dear. Now go on upstairs and brush your hair. I’ll be up in a few minutes and see what we can do with it.”

Kilty slouched out of the breakfast room, her slim shoulders slumped with depression.

“Really, Walter, I don’t get any more co-operation from you than I’d get from a graven image.”

“Maybe I just don’t think it’s a serious problem, honey.”

“How can you say that? I actually had less trouble with Andy when he was twelve, keeping him neat, than I’m having with Kilty.”

“Someday Andy will bring a friend back from school with him and you’ll see Kilty start to glow.”

“I’m glad you think so. I don’t want my daughter to turn out to be one of those big back-slapping women.”

“When Kilty starts to become highly conscious of herself as a member of the female species, Laura, I’m going to feel a little sad. It will mean that both of our kids have turned into adults. And after all these years of wishing the process would go a little faster, I’m now beginning to wonder if we won’t feel just a little bit lost.”

Laura stood up. “Well, I’d better get up there before she forgets what she’s supposed to be doing.”

Walter took her hand, squeezed it lightly. “Don’t worry so much, honey. She’s got good long legs and lovely eyes. Your eyes, as a matter of fact.”

“Silly old goat,” Laura said. She leaned over and kissed him.

On the way to the club Kilty sat morosely in the back, staring at her green skirt. The other kids wouldn’t be dressed up. Sandra and the older ones would, but they seemed to like it. People should be allowed, she decided, to dress the way they felt. Now there wouldn’t even be time for a swim before they had to eat.

Walter parked by the door to let them out before taking the car out into the lot. They waited for him inside the entrance. Laura looked at her and said. “You look very nice, dear. When you walk, please try to hold your head up and take shorter steps.”

Tommy came in with his mother. He wore dungarees and a white shirt and carried his swimming trunks wrapped in a towel. Tommy’s mother paused to chat with Laura. Tommy stared at Kilty. Then he rolled his eyes up as his knees sagged.

“Water, water!” he said hoarsely.

Kilty doubled her fist and banged him on the arm muscle. “You shut up!”

“Hey, watch it!” Tommy said indignantly. “That hurt!”

“Don’t scuffle, children,” Tommy’s mother said casually. Kilty glanced at her mother and was alarmed by the look of steel in her eyes.

They went out through the club and found a table by the pool. The buffet was already set up and members were filling their plates.

“The sooner we eat, the sooner I can swim,” Kilty said.

“Just be patient for a little while, dear,” Laura said.

Walter looked beyond Laura. His mouth opened and his eyes bulged a little. “What,” he said, “is that?”

Kilty and Laura turned and saw a group of a dozen girls wearing identical coral-colored bathing suits just starting through the buffet line.

“Gosh, maybe it’s a water show!” Kilty said.

“No-o-o,” Walter said judiciously, “females who swim professionally and look like that are the exception rather than the rule.”

“Now I remember!” Laura said. “In the bulletin. They’re having a style show today.”

“Had I known that,” Walter said, “you couldn’t have dragged me here in chains. But after seeing the merchandise. I find that I am not even reluctant.”

“A style show! Who wants to see a style show?” Kilty said.

“A great many people want to. Your father, for one,” Laura said. She glanced toward the doorway. “There’s Marie now, with Sandra. Doesn’t Sandra look sweet? Of course, the poor child’s eyes are terribly close together.”

“Sleeping with her hands in bags of glop,” Kilty muttered.

Walter, with bemused expression, watched the twelve girls carry their plates to the big table that had been set up for them. He noticed that they were escorted by a young man who wore exceedingly bright clothes and by a chunky woman with short jet hair. The girls were uniformly slim, trim and lovely.

“Hmmm,” Walter said warmly.

“I think we should eat now,” Laura said.

The meal was rather silent. A few people wandered over to the table to chat. A piano was lugged out onto the patio and an electrician set up a microphone near it.

Kilty said, “Please, can I go put my suit on now?”

“But you can’t swim for an hour, dear.”

“I’ll work on my tan, Mother.”

“But see where they’ve put that little platform? Right by the edge of the pool. You’ll be able to see the style show perfectly from here.”

“But, Mother, if I’m by the pool I’ll be even closer, won’t I?”

Laura stared at her daughter. She lifted her shoulders, sighed as she dropped them. “Well, go ahead. If you must.”

Kilty trotted off before anybody’s mind changed. She whistled as she went down the locker-room aisle, swinging her beach bag. As she wormed her way into her suit, she saw the models and the chunky dark woman come in.

“Anderson, snap it up,” the woman said, checking a list. “You’ll be first in the Kimball number. Walker, you’re not wearing the white. He says you don’t do right by it.”

Kilty was mildly curious, but not particularly intrigued by the girls. They were years older than she and several worlds apart. With towel and bathing cap in hand, she padded down the cement floor and pushed through the locker-room door at the far end, near the pool.

The man who had been at the table with all the models was standing there. He wore funny-colored pants. She guessed they were chartreuse.

When she was five steps beyond him, he said, “Girl! Yes, I mean you. Come here!”

Kilty turned and walked back, scowling. She hadn’t liked his tone of voice. “What do you want?”

He stared at her coldly and thoroughly. He had a thin, tanned face and small, bright blue eyes. He was older than she had thought.

“Turn around, girl. Slow.”

“I will not turn around.”

“You a member here, girl? What’s your name?”

“My father is a member, and my name is Kilty Morrow.”

“You’ve got good shoulders and good legs, Kilty.” He pointed at the door of the women’s locker room. “You see a dark, heavy woman in there with my girls?”

“Yes. Do you want me to get her for you?”

“No. Go in and tell her Carl says you can wear the white.”

“I can wear what?”

“My white outfit. You can wear it in the show.”

Kilty stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“All right. Slow and easy does it. They tell me, ‘Carl, when you go out there, pick one of the members and hang a dress on her and put her in your show. It goes over big. The members like it. And maybe the girl buys the dress, even.’ So I look around. You walk like a plumber’s helper carrying the tool bag, but Lizzy can show you how to walk right. Now are you happy?”

“No, I’m not. And I’m not wearing your silly dress.”

“Don’t you want to be in a style show? Are you saying no because you’re scared?”

“I just think the whole thing is silly. But I know a girl who’ll do it for you. See over there? The blond girl. She’ll wear it. Her name is Sandra Birch.”

Carl located Sandra. He shook his head sadly. “Not that one. That one is still carrying baby fat. Lizzy couldn’t wedge her into it. And if she could, that girl looks like she’d simper. Ever see what a simper does to a smart frock?”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” Kilty said, and started toward the pool.

“Come back here!”

“Look, I’m not going to wear your dress.”

He shrugged. “So I know that. And I know why. Stage fright.”

Kilty felt tears of frustration and anger close behind her eyes. “I am not scared.”

“You don’t kid me, girl. Any kid your age built like you are goes for clothes. If you’re not scared, why don’t you be a good girl and help me out of a jam? Do it for laughs.”

“For laughs?” Kilty said dubiously. Her mind was racing. She could imagine the expression on her mother’s face. And it would be priceless ammunition in the war that had been going on for over a year now. (“But, Mother! Don’t you remember that I was in the style show?”)

“Be a good kid,” Carl said.

“I’ll do it!” she said breathlessly. She would hear no more talk about Sandra.

“Run in there and tell Lizzy. Don’t let her give you a bad time.”

Lizzy stared at her. “What was that, dearie? He wants you in the white? Has he gone nuts?”

“He said I should do it for laughs.”

“Now laughs he wants! Maybe you should fall into the pool with it, dearie. Let’s see how you handle yourself. Walk around there slow and turn around and walk back.”

When Kilty turned around slowly, Lizzy had a hand over her eyes. “Dearie,” she said, “you are not a soldier with a gun. And what do you look for on the floor? Anderson! Come here and show this one how it goes.”

Kilty watched Anderson’s stylized stalk and brittle smile. Kilty frowned. “But people would laugh at me if I walked like that.”

“Listen, you!” Anderson said.

“Be quiet. Look, dearie, all models walk like that. I don’t know why. They just do. Now you see if you can do it just like Anderson. Like a game, you know. Follow the leader.”

Just then the voice of the announcer came dimly through the walls, with a background of slow piano music. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are presenting today a style show in cooperation with...”

Lizzy started barking orders. The models started milling around. A white organdy dress with a pale orchid stole was thrust at Kilty and she was commanded to put it on. Three girls went to work on her. One flattened her hair down, pulled it tight into a chignon and put a pale orchid net on it. Another put big dangling earrings on her. The third found the right shoes to go with the dress, sheer nylons.

Lizzy came over then and slapped her in the small of the back, tugged at the waist of the skirt, said, “It will have to do. Brownell, you make her walk some more, then bring her up where she can watch how you do it on the stand.”

Kilty said, “I don’t think I better try to do it.”

Brownell, a tiny redhead, said, “Everybody has the flutters the first time, kid. Just keep your head up and look them in the eye and show your teeth.”

Lizzy moved a bit so that Kilty could see from the doorway. The crowd, all her friends and her parents’ friends, were just a confusing, shifting area of color. She could hear the announcer’s voice, but the words did not reach her brain.

“Watch Anderson, now. See, when she turns on the platform there she puts her right hand on her hip with the elbow forward. You do that too.”

“I can’t!” Kilty said in a small, trembling voice. “I never should have...”

Lizzy put a firm hand against the small of Kilty’s back and pushed firmly. “Get going!” she hissed. “You’re on.”

“...And now, in white organdy, a gay new way to be young in the evening. Ballet-length skirt and strapless top by Denteri. And the model... Miss Kilty Morrow...”

She could hear all the voices. “Kilty! Why, it’s the Morrow girl! Kilty Morrow!”

Kilty clenched her teeth. They said to walk slow. Slow it would be. Maybe she’d never get to the platform. And smile. Use Anderson’s smile.

Despite her pace, she seemed to reach the corner of the pool too quickly. She turned toward the platform. The pool looked very inviting. A person could hide down there, under water. A person lucky enough could drown.

The platform. She stepped up onto it. She smiled out over the audience in a glazed way and turned slowly, with her right hand on her hip the way Anderson had done it.

Her parents swam into her line of vision. Her father’s eyes were out on stalks. Her mother’s mouth was open. Kilty wanted to laugh, leap into the pool and run like a deer, all at the same time.

The applause startled Kilty. Without knowing how, she maintained her slow pace back to Lizzy.

“How was I?”

“Dearie, you ran like a late commuter and spun up there like a top. You would have blurred a fast shutter. Otherwise you were swell.”

Carl sauntered over. “Didn’t hurt you, did it?” he asked.

“N-n-no, I guess not.”

“So come around in a year and maybe I can fix some part-time work for you.” He handed her a card. “You’re a good junior-miss type, girl.”

Kilty, once again in her swim suit, tried to walk casually to the table where her parents waited. She got the slow stalk of the model and her customary lope all mixed up. She felt as if she were composed entirely of knees and elbows.

She sat down at the table. Laura moistened her lips. “Kilty, how on earth did you get into that parade?”

“I just did it for laughs, Mother,” Kilty said airily.

“Then why were you that funny gray color?”

“I guess I got a little scared. Was I all right?”

Her father was looking at her as though she were a total stranger. He said, “You looked very lovely, Kilty. Do you want me to buy that dress?”

“Gosh, no! None of the girls wear dresses like that!”

They were making her uncomfortable, the way they stared at her. She could feel the people at the other tables staring at her as though she were famous or something. It really wasn’t a bad feeling.

Pete Trainor came over to the table. He was captain of the high-school football team. He too looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. “How about a swim, Kilty?”

“Sure,” she said, and stood up. They walked together toward the pool. Kilty taking short steps, carrying her head high.

Laura said, “Walter, I think... I see what you mean. It’s like losing something, isn’t it?”

Walter smiled slowly. “Don’t worry, honey. I don’t think it’s going to happen all at once. I think it may take a little time.”

Laura looked back toward Kilty just in time to see her trip Pete Trainor expertly into the pool and run with loose-legged stride to where Tommy waited on the high board. She went off without her bathing cap and Laura realized, almost with relief, that Kilty’s hair was going to be a mess.