The Beauty Queen Read online

  “Mr. Talbott wasn’t there,” Mom said. “His mother was sick.”

  “I wonder if I should have kept the crown. Maybe given it to Marly.”

  “Marly can live without it,” Mom said. “Besides, why give her thoughts like that? She’ll never be in a beauty contest.”

  “She has too much sense,” I said. “Did you hear what that Barry person suggested?”

  “What?” Mom asked.

  “Nothing really,” I said. “Just that I might go all the way. Win big. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

  “I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all,” Mom said. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along. You’ve been laughing at me, but now an important man’s said it. He’s in radio. You don’t get to be on the air like that without having been around. If he said it, maybe you’ll believe me when I do.”

  “Mom, it’s insane,” I said. “I don’t have the looks.”

  “Listen to the girl,” Mom said to Greg. “She doesn’t have the looks. Have you ever seen such a pretty girl?”

  “Never,” Greg said. “Kit, you’re beautiful. And stranger things have happened.”

  “Not to me,” I said. “Besides, even if I have the looks, I don’t have the personality. I’m bound to blow it somewhere.”

  “So act,” Mom said. “You’re so big on acting, act your way through those contests. Pretend you’re really excited. Pretend it’s the most important thing in your life. Give the performance of your life, and then see what happens.”

  Mom’s tone of voice worried me. I looked back at her, and her face was glowing. I’d never seen her look so pretty.

  Chapter 6

  Mom bought me the dress the same day I told her about Colorado Springs, and they both caused a big argument.

  The dress came first because Mom was on some kind of crazy shift that let her out at nine in the morning. She then went to the most expensive clothing store in town and got me an evening gown.

  “I was going to ask Doreen if I could borrow hers,” I grumbled. I would have shouted except she’d awakened me to show me, and I never shout first thing in the morning.

  “You never called her,” Mom said. “You’ve been saying you’ll call her for two weeks now, and the contest is in five days. What if the dress hadn’t fit?”

  “Now we won’t have a chance to see,” I said. “You got the dress at Bradley’s? We can’t afford Bradley’s.”

  “For something this special, we can,” Mom said. “Aren’t you even going to look at it?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Of course you don’t have to,” Mom said. “You can go to the contest naked if you want. I don’t care.”

  “I don’t either,” I said.

  “Look at the dress,” Mom said.

  So I opened the box, and there was a fantastic dress, sleeveless, apple green, and cut just enough in front and back so we wouldn’t have to worry about faking innocence. But not too sexy. “It’s perfect,” I said.

  “It cost a fortune,” Mom said. “But I saw it and I just knew it was right. Try it on.”

  “Over my pajamas?”

  “Go to the bathroom,” Mom said. “Take the dress and some underwear with you, and come out dressed. Fast.”

  So I took the dress with me and came out as fast as I could. I stopped in front of the full-length mirror and admired myself. It was a great dress.

  “You look lovely,” Mom said. “The only thing that dress could use is a string of pearls.”

  “The only thing we could use is a million dollars,” I said.

  “Money makes money,” Mom said. “A string of nice cultured pearls might make the difference between winning and losing.”

  “Lose?” I said. “Me lose? How can I in this dress that cost all the food money for the month? Marly’s bound to lose weight, now that we can’t afford food.”

  “We’ll manage,” Mom said. “Besides, I’m sure Marly won’t mind giving up an occasional treat. She’s as excited about this contest as I am.”

  “I’m glad you left me out of it,” I said.

  “I know my daughters,” Mom said. “The only reason you’re in the contest is because you’re the one with looks.”

  “Marly wouldn’t be in it,” I said. “You can’t talk her into things like you can me.”

  “I didn’t know I could talk you into anything,” Mom said. “It’s nice to hear.”

  “Can I get out of the dress now?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” I said, because it was the truth. “It was a ridiculous extravagance, and I’ll never wear it again, but I love it. And thank you for buying it. Can I pay you back for it? I have money saved up from baby-sitting.”

  Mom kissed me. “It’s a gift,” she said. “Sometimes even I can be generous.”

  We spent the day in unusual harmony. I took the dress off, but as soon as Marly got back from the library she insisted on seeing it, so I put it back on and gave a regular fashion show. We agreed I could wear the same bathing suit for that part of the competition and became engrossed in a discussion of what I should wear for the talent part. We chose a blouse and skirt.

  Mom seemed in such a good mood, I decided to gamble. “Guess who I saw?” I began and realized my voice was squeaking. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Roger Davalos.”

  “Who?”

  “Davalos,” I said. “I was in some shows with him. He’s an actor, a professional one now.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked. I could see Marly looking worried.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Except he mentioned this theater group in Colorado Springs that’s going to be needing people.”

  “Colorado Springs,” Mom said. “What kind of theater could be there?”

  “There are theaters all over this country,” I said. It annoys me when people think the only place with theater is New York. “In this case it’s children’s theater. This group, called Joy, got a big grant of money to do children’s shows. Roger said there were some openings.”

  “That’s nice,” she said.

  “Anyway, I thought I might go out there later this summer and see about it,” I said. “Roger said that they use high school kids for the summer, but it’s a full-year program, so they’ll need people later on.”

  “You’re crazy,” Mom said.

  “What do you mean, I’m crazy?” I said. “It’s a good group, and Roger said I could learn a lot.”

  “I think Kit should go,” Marly said.

  “I didn’t ask you what you thought,” Mom said. “This is a decision for Kit and me to make.”

  “No, Mom,” I said. “It’s all for me, and I’ve already made it. This is a real opportunity, and I’m going to take it.”

  “Don’t hurry,” Mom said. “There are a lot of things you ought to consider first. Is the company any good?”

  “Mom, it could be the Royal Shakespeare Company, and it wouldn’t make any difference to you.”

  “It’s still a factor. Have you ever heard of them?”

  “Just what Roger told me,” I admitted.

  “That’s really something,” Mom said. “And what about college?”

  “What about it?” I asked. “I never wanted to go anyway.”

  “You say that now, when you’re young, but someday you’re going to miss that degree.”

  “Mom, the odds on my staying in college long enough to earn a degree are so minimal we can ignore them. I’m not Marly. I don’t like school.”

  “Even two years is better than none. Even one year is. You’ve been accepted to a very good college, and I don’t think you should throw that away on a possibility.”

  “College is a waste of money,” I said.

  “And what about the contest?” Mom said.

  “What about it?”

  “Are you planning to enter it? Or are you just going to drop everything and run away?”

  “I’m not running away,” I said. “And sure I’ll enter it.
What’s the problem?”

  “What happens if you win?” she said. I could see the look of triumph in her eyes.

  “Win?” I said.

  “You heard me,” Mom said. “Lots of people think you’re going to win. And then you’ll have to be here in September for the state contest. You won’t be able to run off to Colorado.”

  “All right, I won’t be in the contest,” I said. “I’ll drop out now. That way we won’t have to worry about it.”

  “That’s great,” Mom said. “Just drop out. That’s really grateful.”

  “What does gratefulness have to do with anything?”

  “A lot of people have helped you with this contest,” Mom said.

  “Besides you, who?”

  “Bradley’s for one,” she said. “They gave me a discount on this dress when they heard what it was for.”

  “You went begging to some clothes store to get me this dress?” I said. “Thanks for telling me, Mom. Now will you please return it?”

  “I don’t mind begging for my daughters,” Mom said. “Not when it’s something important. And Bradley’s was delighted to do it. It’s free advertising for them because they’re sure you’re going to win.”

  “Well, thank them very much and take the dress back,” I said. “Let me go to Colorado, and you won’t have to beg for me any more.”

  “And throw away your real chance? Ten thousand girls your age have your talent, Kit. It’s not so unusual. But you’re the only one in the world with your face and your body. They’re what make you special. Use them for what they’re worth.”

  “There’s something about that that makes me feel really cheap,” I said. “Like all I was, was a pretty face. I’m more than that, Mom, and I wish you’d realize it.”

  “There’s five hundred dollars in that beauty contest,” Mom said. “That’s a lot of money for this family. You won’t be able to save a cent from that theater no matter how hard you work.”

  “I won’t cost you a cent either,” I said. “And it’s what I want to do with my life. Isn’t that what’s important?”

  “If you think it’s more important than helping out your family, I can’t argue with you,” Mom said. “If you think it’s all right to let down your friends, your home town, then there’s nothing more I can say. Go, run away. Spend your life pretending. You were never much good at truth anyway.”

  “That’s unfair,” I said. “There’s a difference between acting and lying.”

  “Would you wait a second,” Marly said. “The two of you, could you just shut up for a moment?”

  We shut up.

  “I don’t see why you can’t stick around for the county contest,” she said. “It’s only next week, that’s not so far away. And then you can lose gracefully and go to Colorado and see what happens. Instead of making such a fuss right now. Doesn’t that make sense?”

  “It means keeping the dress,” I said.

  “I want you to have the dress,” Mom said. “Even if it’s just for this one time. It’s important to me.”

  I never liked it when Mom pulled that kind of argument on me. There’s no way you can get out of it without sounding like an ungrateful wretch. I might be ungrateful, but I resented the wretch part.

  “I’ll lose the contest,” I said, thinking out loud.

  “If you go into it with that attitude, I don’t see how you can win,” Mom said.

  “Actresses never win,” Marly said. “Dancers, gymnasts, they win, not actresses.”

  “It’s just such a waste of the dress.”

  “Someday,” Mom said, “when you’re a big star, you can pay me back for the dress. You can buy me one, and Marly, and get us both strings of pearls. Until then, don’t worry about it. The only pay I want right now is to see you in it during the county contest. That’s all. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather see me opening night?”

  “Not if it means going to Colorado,” Mom said. “Is it a deal?”

  “I won’t win,” I said. “It’s ridiculous I even won Miss Great Oaks. I don’t have the personality for this kind of thing, and it must be obvious to the judges. And if I don’t win, I don’t have to worry about it. I can try something really important.”

  “It makes sense to me,” Marly said. “Of course it was my idea.”

  “It was a good one,” I said. “Most of your ideas are. And Dad said he would come. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

  Mom let that pass, which showed how much she wanted to make peace. “Okay,” I said, feeling like I’d consorted with the devil. “I’ll be in your silly contest.”

  “Fine,” Mom said. “Now take off your dress before you get it dirty. They won’t even look at you in a dirty dress.”

  So I went upstairs to change and think about acting.

  Chapter 7

  There are no big cities in Harrison County, just a collection of small and medium-sized towns. Great Oaks fell somewhere between the two, so I didn’t feel like a country bumpkin or a city slicker when the contest began.

  Actually, I didn’t feel much of anything except disappointment because my father didn’t show and impatience to get it over with. I hadn’t expected Dad to come; he was always saying he’d come to things and then not showing. But I never realized ahead of tune that he’d do it again, so each time he didn’t come, I was disappointed. I guess I expected him because he did come when it had to do with Marly. Still, he’d made it for her graduation, and that was the important thing.

  The impatience was a little harder to deal with. Greg had driven us up to Lawrence, the county seat where the contest was being held, and it was an uncomfortable drive. Greg and I had been having problems ever since Colorado Springs came up. He was annoyed at something, and I was annoyed he wasn’t telling me why. So by the time we all got into his car, Greg and I were hardly speaking. Mom was so thrilled about where we were going that she didn’t say anything. Marly talked a lot, but not about anything important, and her babbling got on all our nerves.

  The contest was a whole day affair. Greg dropped me off, with suitcase, at the hotel where it was being held, and drove Mom and Marly around to have breakfast and do some sight-seeing. There are no sights to see in Lawrence, but there wasn’t anything else to do. I “freshened up,” which meant washing my face and wishing for a better deodorant, and went to the main room to see what they’d do to me.

  It was a large room, decorated in teal blue, with a gray plush rug. It was probably the banquet room, but today it was set up for less social purposes. In one corner were three rows of chairs for the contestants to sit in when they weren’t being examined and cross-examined for beauty, brains, and long legs. Two walls were taken up with a number of fair-sized tables. Behind each table sat a judge, generally a middle-aged man in a conservative business suit and more conservative tie, and on the tables were a stack of papers, scattered around to give the appearance of officialness. When I got to my first table, I checked and the papers were all blank. So, for the most part, were the expressions on the faces of the judges.

  A middle-aged lady, with a great deal of silver-blue hair, grabbed me by the arm. “I’m Charlotte Dealing,” she said.

  “Katherine Carson,” I said. “Miss Great Oaks.”

  Ms. Dearing looked through a pile of identification cards and gave me one. “Put it on,” she said, and I did.

  “Great Oaks,” she said and looked down a list of names. “You start with Mr. Smith.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Mr. Smith,” she said. “And then Mr. Talbott, Mrs. Marsh, and Mr. O’Reilly. They’ll ask you a few questions, try to get a feel for your personality.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “As long as that’s all they feel for.”

  Ms. Dearing chose not to hear me. “Mr. Smith is right over there,” she said, pointing me in his direction. “Go speak to him, after the other two girls.”

  I thanked her and waited for my chance to speak to Mr
. Smith.

  “So you’re Miss Great Oaks,” he said, when I finally sat down at his table.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “Katherine Carson.”

  “Do you have any nicknames?”

  I almost hated to tell him. “Kit,” I said.

  “Kit,” he said, but didn’t put the two names together. “Well, Kit, you must be a very excited girl.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t ask about what.

  “Have you ever traveled?”

  “No,” I said. “At least not out of the state.”

  “And what does your father do for a living?”

  “He’s a salesman,” I said. “He does all the traveling for the family.”

  Mr. Smith laughed. I’d noticed that people involved in beauty contests laughed very easily. “And where do you plan to go to college?”

  “Morsly College, in Great Oaks,” I said. Mom had told me to keep my mouth shut about Colorado, and it seemed reasonable. Besides, if she found out I’d told, she would have killed me.

  “You are a home town girl,” he said.

  “Just a poor one,” I said. “Morsly’s giving me a scholarship, and I can live at home.”

  “I see,” he said. “Well, thank you very much, Kit, and I wish you luck with the contest.”

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping poverty didn’t disqualify me. For all I knew, it might. I thought about the beauty contest winners I’d seen, and they all looked middle class.

  The other judges asked comparable questions. When they asked about my ambitions, I was very modest. “I’d love to be an actress,” I said. “But I know what a difficult field it is. My second choice is speech therapy. It’s such worth-while work.”

  The judges nodded a lot after that. I wished someone was around to appreciate my performance.

  After the interviews, all the contestants had lunch together. It wasn’t a very good lunch, but it was free. I learned early never to knock free food.

  “What a drag,” said the girl sitting next to me.

  “Lunch or the whole thing?” I asked.

  “The whole thing,” she said. “But lunch in particular. Chicken. I hate chicken.”

  “It’s not cooked enough,” I said.