The Crazy Things Girls Do for Love

Chapter Thirty-One Waneeda and Clemens agree on several things

In the end, of course, Waneeda and Joy Marie gave Cody the help he’d asked for with the Things You Can Do and Did You Know? campaigns. He said there was no one else who could do it. “I’m telling you, everybody’s already tied up with committees and stuff,” he pleaded in front of Ms Kimodo. “You know I’d do it myself, but I’m running all over the place trying to drum up support for Earth Day.”

“We’re tied up too,” bleated Joy Marie and Waneeda.

“But you’re so good at this stuff,” Cody persisted. “You could do it blindfolded.”

Ms Kimodo sighed wistfully.

Cody threw himself onto his knees, clasping his hands. “Please,” he begged. “You have to help. Dr Firestone’s breathing down my neck.”

The sighs of Waneeda and Joy Marie were more resigned than wistful.

Today, however, there is a slight change in the cast of Environmental Club drudges. Joy Marie is thirty miles away, rehearsing with the county orchestra, and so it is Clemens who is helping Waneeda print the latest batch of flyers and put them up around the school.

Mrs Skwill greeted him like a long-lost friend, albeit one with whom she has some issues.

“Clemens Reis!” cried Mrs Skwill. “You haven’t darkened my door in weeks. It’s usually your friend Cody who comes in to see Dr Firestone these days.” Normally a woman of few words (many of them “no”) Mrs Skwill paused only long enough for Clemens to open his mouth. “I guess he’s your public relations person now, being so personable.” She stretched her lips into a straight line, and nodded at Clemens. Unlike you… “So enthusiastic and inspiring.” Also unlike you… “You must bless the day he came to Clifton Springs. He does so much for your club, doesn’t he? Always talking about what your plans are and what you’re hoping to achieve… I can’t tell you how much we’ve all learned about the environment and all its problems from him.” It was also rare to see Mrs Skwill (whose default setting is “cautious”) almost gleeful. “This Earth Day party of yours is really going to be something. Bigger even than the one we had when the town turned 300.”

It was Waneeda who interrupted the administrative assistant’s enthusiastic monologue. “Do you think we could use a photocopier?” she asked. “We have some more flyers we need to run off.”

Mrs Skwill glanced at Clemens. “Are you sure you want him with you?” she asked Waneeda. “You know he’s going to go on and on about all the health risks of photocopy machines and laser printers, don’t you?”

Waneeda said that she knew.

“He’s a very nice boy,” Mrs Skwill continued, as though Clemens had either gone deaf or left the room, “but he’s very depressing. Don’t breathe this … and don’t touch that… He never stops. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

Waneeda pulled on her hair and smiled.

Mrs Skwill would undoubtedly be surprised to learn that Waneeda doesn’t find Clemens depressing at all. Since she has been spending so much time with him, slouching through Clifton Springs with a clipboard and a stack of Save Our Trees petitions, Waneeda has discovered that there is more to Clemens Reis than saddle shoes and doom.

“I really appreciate this,” Waneeda tells him now as they start on their rounds. “It’d take me for ever to do it by myself.”

“Fair’s fair. You help me.” Clemens gives her a conspiratorial wink. “At least no one’s going to slam the door in our faces doing this.” Which is something that happens fairly often when you’re asking people to save ancient trees.

“I guess Joy Marie’s right.” Waneeda laughs. “Every cloud does have a silver lining.”

Clemens holds the flyers against the wall and Waneeda does the taping. And all the time they work, they chat as though there was never a time when the only words they ever exchanged were “hello” and “goodbye”. As though it was always obvious that they were meant to be friends.

“It’s funny about Maya, isn’t it?” says Waneeda, as they start on the first floor. “I used to think she was as deep as a puddle. But now I’m kind of changing my mind.” Waneeda slaps tape over the cartoon they’re putting up of a woman pouring the contents of her mop bucket down the sink, where it travels through the pipes and drains and ends up in a river full of dead fish. “Some of these are really good.”

Clemens shrugs. “They’re all right.”

“All right?” Waneeda’s eyebrows rise sceptically. “Hey, I know you weren’t too enthusiastic about the cartoon concept to begin with, but you have to admit that they’re better than just ‘all right’.”

“OK,” Clemens concedes, “so maybe I was wrong about her trivializing serious issues. Most of her cartoons are pretty right on.” He gives Waneeda a poke with his elbow. “But then you have to take back what you said about Sicilee.” What Waneeda said was that Sicilee telling people how to be Green was like the blind leading the blind – straight over a cliff. “She had a good idea, too.” He aligns the latest instalment of Twelve Easy Ways You Can Save the Planet next to the cartoon. “There aren’t as many dust-your-light-bulb type of suggestions as I expected.”

“OK, some of it’s not bad,” says Waneeda. “But can you actually see Princess Kewe following her own advice?”

“Well…” Clemens smiles mischievously. “Maybe not all of it, but she does walk to school now.” Indeed, she sometimes walks the last block with them. “And I can see her reading labels – I don’t think she’d have a problem with that. And she probably takes a shower now and then instead of baths. And even turns off lights.”

“OK, but can you see her swanning into the Salvation Army thrift store?” demands Waneeda. “The only things she’d wear that belonged to someone else would have to be made out of diamonds or gold.”

“The Salvation Army?” Clemens looks as though he is trying very hard to picture this unlikely event. “Sicilee in the Salvation Army…” It isn’t an easy image to call up: Sicilee strolling into the Salvation Army in one of her tailored suits and a string of pearls, looking for something to wear for a weekend on somebody’s yacht.

“Excuse me, my good woman, but do you work here?” mimics Waneeda in a high, gushy voice. “Can you tell me where you keep the Juicy Couture?”

Their laughter echoes down the empty corridor.

They are still laughing when they return to the lobby. Night has fallen over Clifton Springs. Outside, the snow that still remains on the lawn sparkles in the lights that line the drive, but the sky itself sparkles with stars. They stand by the glass doors, putting on their coats.

“It’s funny, I never really used to look at the sky before,” says Waneeda. “But now I look for the moon and the stars every night.”

“Me too,” says Clemens. “I’m always relieved they’re still there.” He opens the door and holds it for Waneeda. “You didn’t used to wear your hair down much, did you?” he asks as she walks past him.

“No.” Waneeda shrugs. “But … you know … it’s been so cold.”

“It looks nice,” says Clemens, and he follows her out.