Annie on My Mind

Chapter nine

"It's not not seeing the value of it," Mary Lou said angrily. "That's
not what Liza said at all! I think all she was doing was explaining what
some of the people Mr. Piccolo talked to might be thinking. And I bet
she's right. I used to go with a guy from public school, and he thought
Foster was snobby. And that we were too sheltered."

"Oh, but, Mary Lou, dear," Ms. Baxter fluttered, "neither you nor Liza
is very sheltered, though, really--are you? That is, if both of you have
been--er--associating
with people from other schools, and, as you say, you have been. And that
is fine," she added hastily. "Very good, in fact." She glanced anxiously
at Mrs. Poindexter. "We must remember," she said gently, "that it takes
all kinds. The good Lord made us all."

"I am not sure," said Mrs. Poindexter, "but what this is all entirely
beside the point. It is our job to sell Foster's advantages to
people--not to imagine disadvantages, or to dwell on the questionable
influence students from outside schools may have."

"Questionable influence!" I burst out before I could stop myself, and
Mary Lou--she had worn that public-school guy's ring for nearly a
year--got very red. Conn shook his head at her and put his hand on my arm,
whispering, "Watch it Liza." Well, the whole meeting fell apart then--we
spent a lot of time arguing instead of deciding what to do. "It's just
that in order to combat other people's attitudes we have to understand
them first," Conn said after about half an hour more.

But Mrs. Poindexter still couldn't see it as anything but unkind
criticism of her beloved Foster. Finally, though, we decided to have a
big student rally the Friday after spring vacation, and we planned to
try and urge each student either to recruit a new student or to get an
adult to pledge money. Walt muttered, "Nickels and dimes--Mr. Piccolo
says businesses and rich people and industries are the only good sources
of money." But Mrs. Poindexter was so enthusiastic about what we could
do if "the whole Foster family pulls together" that somehow she managed
to convince most of us we might be able to turn the campaign around.

Sally and Walt said they would plan the rally, and Mrs. Poindexter
said I should help them, as council president; she told us we should
consider ourselves a "committee of three." After a lot of backing and
forthing, the three of us agreed to have two meetings the next week,
before vacation began, and then a final one during vacation, right
before school started again. Then, just as Mrs. Poindexter seemed to be
ready to end the meeting and I was trying to decide whether to call for
a motion to adjourn or just wait and see if she'd go back to ignoring my
being president again, Ms. Baxter raised her hand and Mrs. Poindexter
nodded at her. "I would just like to remind us all," Ms. Baxter said,
waggling one of her handkerchiefs as she nervously pulled it out of her
sleeve, "that--and of course we are all aware of it--that it is now more
essential than ever that all Foster students, but especially council
members, conduct themselves both in private and in public in their usual
exemplary fashion. We are more in the public eye than we may
realize--why, just last week I was in Tuscan's--Tuscan's, mind you, that
enormous department store--and a saleslady asked if I taught at Foster
and said wasn't it exciting about the campaign and wasn't Foster a
wonderful school." Ms. Baxter smiled and dabbed at her nose with her
handkerchief. "How wonderful for us all to be able to assure Foster
parents and future Foster parents, by our own example, of Foster's
highly moral atmosphere. Even outsiders are beginning to see that we are
indeed special--that is one of the exciting things about the
campaign--what an inspiring opportunity it gives us all!"

"Well put, Ms. Baxter," said Mrs. Poindexter, beaming at her; Ms. Baxter
smiled modestly.

"Now we know why she had Baxter come," Mary Lou whispered to Conn and
me.

"I'm sure we would all like to show Ms. Baxter our agreement and
thank her for reminding us of our duty," said Mrs. Poindexter, looking
around the room. Ms. Stevenson seemed to be thinking about clearing away
the Coke cans. That seemed like a good idea to me, too, so I gave Mrs.
Poindexter a perfunctory nod and then started to get up, reaching for
the tray. But Ms. Stevenson glared at me and I realized that I was going
too far.

Sally said, "Thank you, Ms. Baxter," and started clapping, so
the rest of us did, too.

"Thank you," said Ms. Baxter, still with the
modest smile, "thank you--but your best thanks will be to continue to
show the world--and to help your fellow students show the world also--that
Foster students are indeed a cut above. For--we--" she sang suddenly,
launching into the most rousing but also the most ridiculous of our
school songs, "are--jolly good Fosters, for we are jolly good Fosters ..."

Of course we all sang along with her. It was a little sad, because
none of us, except Sally and, at least outwardly, Walt, was really very
enthusiastic. And there were those two old women, whale and pilot fish,
eagle and sparrow, heads back, mouths open wide, eyes shining, singing
as if they were both desperately trying to be fifteen years old again.

11

Late that afternoon when I got home from the meeting--trying to tell
myself I shouldn't call Annie, because she should rest without
interruption for her performance--Chad met me at the door, waving a long
envelope that said Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the corner,
and sure enough, it was an acceptance! It's amazing what hearing that
someone wants you to go to their college can do for your ego, but when
it's also the only college you really want to go to, and the only one
you think can teach you what you have to know in order to be the only
thing you want to be--well, it's like being handed a ticket to the rest
of your life, or to a big part of it, anyway. I couldn't hold all that
in, so I did call Annie after all, and she'd gotten into Berkeley.

We decided to go to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden the next day no matter
what, to celebrate spring and acceptances and the coming of vacation
next week--hers started the same day mine did and lasted as long,
because there were going to be special teachers' meetings at her school
after the official public-school vacation week. Then, when I got off the
phone and went to the dinner table, Dad produced a bottle of champagne,
and so it was a very merry Winthrop family who went uptown that night to
hear Annie sing.

I don't think it was the champagne I'd drunk that made Annie look so
beautiful that night, because I noticed that most people in the audience
had dreamy, faraway looks on their faces when she was singing. For me it
was as if the concert were hers alone, although three other kids sang
and someone played the piano--very well, Mom said. Annie had on a long
light blue corduroy skirt that looked like velvet and a creamy
long-sleeved blouse, and her hair was down over one shoulder,