Oh, well…. Got to sign off to get my outfit ready for tomorrow.

  I’m going to wear a long brown skirt, a short beige top, lots of jewelry, and a rhinestone barrette.

  Love,

  TSTARR

  P.S. And my purple sneakers.

  Date: September 11 3:42:08 PM

  From: Eliz812

  Subj: Dad

  To: TSTARR

  Dear Tara★,

  I have done something I have never done before. Not in my whole life. I have lied to my mother. Well, actually, I haven’t lied to her, but I haven’t told her about something really, really big and important that she would want to know about. I guess that’s like a sin of omission instead of a sin of commission. (Is there such a thing as a lie of omission?) Anyway, it’s Saturday afternoon and Mom has taken Emma shoe shopping. And here I can tell you about one little piece of good news before I tell you about my lie/sin. Mom got a raise! She wasn’t supposed to get a raise until November, but she’s doing such a fantastic job with fund-raising for Kate’s Kitchen that Kate gave Mom her raise early. This means two things: 1. Mom no longer needs help from Nana and Grandpa to make ends meet each month. And 2. Mom will have a TEENSY bit of $$ left over at the end of each month for extras. So Emma is at Hulit’s right now getting new sneakers and new rain boots.

  All right. Now I better tell you what I didn’t do. I didn’t tell Mom that Dad called yesterday afternoon just after I had gotten home from school. I’m not positive why I haven’t told her. Maybe because I know she’d be upset by what he asked for. Maybe because I want to do something mean to my father, even if it will fly back in my face and get me in trouble later (I’ll explain that in a minute). Or maybe because I simply don’t care about my father anymore and I don’t exactly feel like helping him out, especially when it would be a burden for Mom. What happened was that the phone rang yesterday just as I was sitting down to write a poem for Silhouette. When I heard the slurred voice on the other end of the line I knew it was Dad. (He called me Elezzabish.) He asked for Mom. I wasn’t sure whether Dad knew Mom works at Kate’s Kitchen, but just in case he didn’t, I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

  THEN he said something like, “How ish she fixed for money?” I didn’t know what he was leading up to, so I wasn’t sure how to answer that. So then Dad started to tell me he needed a loan, and I said, “Well, too bad. She’s not here,” and I hung up.

  That was yesterday. YESTERDAY, Tara. It’s a whole day later, and I haven’t told Mom about the phone call. Dad is bound to call again and tell her he spoke to me. Do you think I’ll get in trouble? Maybe Mom won’t believe him. He’s always drunk when he calls.

  Well, anyway, get this. I LIKED HURTING MY DAD.

  I have so much to tell you, Tara, but this is already a very long e. I’ll just make a few quick comments:

  – Emma LOVES kindergarten and her teacher. AND … she’s learning to read. This is going to be so exciting to watch.

  – School is great. So far we have added one new staff member to Silhouette. She’s a sixth-grader.

  – Our staff meeting yesterday went fine.

  – I like the sound of your new look.

  – I can’t believe your egg project. I’ve read about that kind of assignment in books, but I’ve never known anyone who actually had to do it. How are things going with Phil? How are things with you and Bart? Have you named the eggs yet? (If I had twins, I would want identical girls, and I would name them Hope and Grace.)

  One last thing. After I hung up on Dad I finished my poem. Here it is:

  Summer Storm

  In the dark of night,

  The still, dark night,

  A crash of thunder sounds.

  It rocks the city,

  The sleeping city,

  And through the hills it pounds.

  The lightning flares,

  Mighty lightning,

  And wakes up all the town.

  It meets with the earth,

  The wet, dark earth.

  And tears apart the ground.

  Love,

  Elizabeth

  Date: September 11 10:32.09 PM

  From: TSTARR

  Subj: WOW!

  To: Eliz812

  Dear Elizabeth,

  I can’t believe how calm and how angry you are.

  I could never have those two emotions at the same time! I would be yelling and crying and screaming.

  Your father is really pond scum. I’m sorry to say that but it’s true. (I know you’ve always said he is “sick” but he’s also so selfish … and never worries about what you are feeling or how you and your mom and Emma are surviving.)

  If he wants some money, he should get a job … any job. When Luke had trouble getting jobs, he would take whatever job he could get to support us. You know how he always says, “There are no small jobs … only small people.” Well, your father should just stop drinking and get a job, and stop calling and torturing you and your family. (I know he never physically hurts you, but it’s just terrible what he does emotionally.)

  I don’t know about not telling your mom. You don’t think she would give him money, do you ? ? ? ? ? What do you think she will do when she finds out? (What will she do with you … and with your dad ?)

  About your poem … I really like it. I especially like the use of the word “tears.” It’s like the earth is ripping apart and like it’s causing tears, as in crying. Is that what you meant? Sometimes I’m not sure with poetry. You know I like reading realistic fiction best.

  About my life … I tried out for the play. I’m sure I won’t get the part of Annie. Somehow I don’t think I would be good playing a little orphan girl with bad hair. I would much prefer the part of Miss Hannigan, the meanie. It’s a really good part, and I don’t have to be a “little goody girly.” (Remember how we used to call Karen Frank that? Oh, you forgot to mention … did she do her traditional first day of school upchuck ?) My twin children are now named … Eggbert and Eggsmerelda.

  You should hear Luke talk about his “grandchildren.” He is so funny. He says he hopes they won’t get “spoiled.” Barb just sighed when she saw the eggs and said she was hardly old enough to be the mother of a thirteen-year-old, and that she certainly wasn’t ready to be a grandmother. Luke hugged her and told her she already was a grand mother, and then he hugged me and patted her stomach. My parents ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

  Phil, the twins’ father and my husband, seems to be a nice guy. He seems more interested in the assignment than I am. Maybe it’s because he’s new and doesn’t know too many people. Today at lunch I pretended to feed the stupid eggs. Phil burped them.

  I didn’t even get to sit with Bart at lunch. Lisa said their baby had a bad cold and was “sickly” … and so they couldn’t sit with other people who would contaminate little Bart Sr. Elizabeth, I’m sure you know how that made me feel. Bart Sr. went along with it. Something tells me it’s going to be hard to date him while he’s married to Lisa. I really hate this stupid assignment. Why does school have to interfere with my life ?

  Anyway, I guess that’s it for now.

  E me soon and tell me what happens when your mom finds out.

  I hope your father doesn’t call again.

  Love,

  Tara★

  Date: September 15 5:10:39 PM

  From: Eliz812

  Subj: Pond Scum

  To: TSTARR

  Dear Tara★,

  You’re right. My dad is pond scum. You don’t have to apologize for calling him that. He’s also the scum of the earth. And just generally scummy.

  I am in trouble. (Well, I was in trouble.)

  I don’t remember the last time I was in trouble.

  I remember the last time I did something I should have gotten in trouble for – but didn’t. It was when I snooped through my parents’ things on New Year’s Eve and found all those papers that showed me how much financial trouble my father was in. Later I told Mom what I had done, and we just talked about Dad. No punishment. (Well, I have to admit that I’ve done a few things since then that I probably should have gotten in trouble for, such as eavesdropping, but Mom didn’t find out about them.)

  Oh, I know this is all jumbled up, Tara. Let me just tell you what has happened: I read your e-mail last Sunday morning, as soon as I was up. And I started thinking about the questions you had asked – about what Mom would do when she found out about the phone call. I noticed you said when she found out, and this awful feeling crept over me. I just knew that somehow she would find out, even if I didn’t tell her. Dad was bound to call back, and I couldn’t count on Mom not believing whatever he said. I suspect that these thoughts were really my guilty conscience talking to me. Whatever. I thought and worried all morning, and finally I decided I better tell Mom about the phone call myself. At least I could tell her my side of things before she heard Dad’s side. So after lunch, when Emma was on a play date, I asked Mom if I could talk to her. We sat in the living room and I told her everything I could remember from the phone call.

  Tara, you are not going to believe the very first thing Mom said when I finished. She said, “Did you hang up before you got his phone number?”

  I think I must have stared at her with my mouth open. That was the last thing I would have expected her to say. Actually, it hadn’t even occurred to me.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  It was Mom’s turn to stare at me. But before she could say anything, I said, “Mom, you’ve spoken to Dad yourself and you didn’t get his number.”

  After a moment, she said, “That’s true.” Then she asked why I didn’t tell her about the call right away.

  I told her I don’t want to give Dad any money. I’m mad at him. And I thought the call would upset her.

  Mom said she understood. But then she said it was wrong not to give her the message, that I was meddling in someone else’s business. I told her I knew it was wrong – I wanted to say, “That’s why I’m telling you about the call now,” – but I didn’t.

  So then she told me I was grounded for the rest of the day.

  Grounded, Tara! I should never have told her what happened to you over the summer.

  Tara, you know what Susie said when I called to cancel our plans for the day? She said Mom is probably angrier than she would be ordinarily because this has to do with Dad. I think Susie is right. And Howie said Mom is probably extra worried at the thought of maybe having to give Dad money right NOW – when she just got the raise and told her parents we don’t need financial help from them anymore. Which, I might point out, is precisely why I didn’t want to tell Mom about the call in the first place.

  Howie wanted to know if Mom goes to Al-Anon meetings. I asked him if he was crazy.

  I better sign off. It’s time to start dinner, and I am on my best behavior this week. Oh – a few things, though:

  1. I don’t think Dad can “just” stop drinking. I don’t think it works like that. I wish he would, but I think that’s like saying, “I wish you would just stop having your cold.” It takes time to get over a cold – or to stop drinking.

  2. He certainly should get a job, though.

  3. Karen Frank – she was banned from the drinking fountain all day long, so she barfed on the floor outside the principal’s office instead.

  4. Love the egg names.

  5. I’M SORRY ABOUT BART!!

  Love,

  Elizabeth

  Date: September 18 8:02:25 PM

  From: TSTARR

  Subj: Reactions, News, and Feelings

  To: Eliz812

  Dear Elizabeth,

  So you got grounded ! ! ! ! ! Personally, I think it was worth it. It was only for part of a day so it wasn’t soooooo terrible … and you get to see Howie and Susie all the time anyway. All in all, I don’t think that it was too awful. You managed to “hurt” your dad a little (although I do think he’s not really aware of how anyone feels but him). You got to let your mother know how you feel (and she is able to be aware … and she really cares about you even though she does have her own problems). So grounding was not soooooo bad.

  Now for news from Ohio:

  1. I GOT THE PART I WANTED IN THE PLAY !!!!!!!!!!!!! I am Miss Hannigan. I get to be mean to all those little orphans. (Elizabeth, it’s just acting!) I get to sing … and it doesn’t have to be totally on tune either, although I will work on it. (And I love the fact that Lisa, Bart’s “wife,” tried out for the same part and obviously didn’t get it. She will be my understudy. If I get sick, she gets to take my part…. Fat chance of that happening. So for now she is working BACKstage. Ha.

  2. Speaking of Bart, the other day we went to a party at Hannah’s house … and you won’t believe what happened. Lisa called to tell him there was an emergency … that the “baby” was really sick, throwing up, and Bart Sr., had better come over right away.

  3. Bart went. He said he had to go because it was important for his grade … that Lisa had said she’d tell Mr. Izzard he was being a terrible father if he didn’t come right over. I yelled, “It’s an egg, a stupid egg. I left my two stupid eggs at home and no one’s called to say they’re puking.” Elizabeth … I am so angry. Bart is being henpecked and he isn’t really even married. (Don’t you think henpecked is a funny term, especially for a parent who is the father of a stupid egg? !) Bart said to wait, that he would be back soon, but I called Luke and Barb and they picked me up. I just didn’t feel like staying at the party. I know Lisa likes Bart … and he must like her. I don’t think they did this just for the grade. So my heart is a little broken :-(But not as broken as their egg will be if I get anywhere near it.

  Gotta go.

  Love,

  Tara★

  Date: September 21 5:39:49 PM

  From: Eliz812

  Subj: Boss Lady

  To: TSTARR

  Dear Tara★,

  Well. Whoever thought that being the editor of a poetry magazine could be so … nonpoetic. When I came into our office this afternoon (the office of Sil-houette is a converted broom closet, to give you some idea of its size), I was met with the following:

  – two kids whose poems had been rejected, and who wanted to know why.

  – a kid who wants to join the staff, even though anyone interested in working on the journal was supposed to have talked to me by last week.

  – a kid who’s already on the staff, but who wants to take the first month and a half off to be in a community theater production.

  – a letter from the editor of the yearbook asking if two afternoons a week their spillover staff can use our equipment.

  Luckily (or so I thought) Mrs. Jackson’s office is right next to the broom closet, so I ran in there, told Mrs. Jackson everything that was going on, and asked her what I should do. Tara, do you know what she said? She said, “You’re the editor, Elizabeth. It’s up to you to decide.”

  Well. I thought being the editor would just mean sitting around reading poems and pasting them up in a nice way with a few illustrations. That’s basically what I did last spring when we first started the journal. I guess it’s grown since then. And I guess I didn’t realize quite how much work Mrs. Jackson was doing for us.

  I went back to the journal office and looked at all the kids standing there. I told them they would need to schedule appointments to see me later in the week. (Personally, I am leaning toward telling the theater kid she can just drop out and letting the new kid take her place. Don’t you think there’s some POETIC JUSTICE to that?)

  I am a little crabby, Tara. Or at least I was after everyone had left. Howie and Susie showed up a while later, and when I told them what had happened, we ended up working out how to handle everything. I’m going to sit down with the first two kids individually (the ones who want to know why their poems were rejected), and go over the poems line by line with them. Then I’ll invite them to resubmit the poems after they edit them, or to submit other poems – but I’ll tell them I can’t promise that the new poems will be published either….

  Well, I won’t go into all the details about the other problems, but I feel much better now. And – I have to admit it – kind of proud of myself for actually handling the problems, even if I did get help from Howie and Susie.

  Tara, I feel awful about Bart and Lisa. (Has it occurred to you that Bart and Lisa are the siblings in The Simpsons? And that Bart Simpson is basically a jerk?)

  Oh, I almost forgot the most important thing: CONGRATULATIONS on getting the part of Miss Hannigan!

  That is so cool! The only bad thing is that I feel just like I did last year when you got the part in Cheaper by the Dozen and I realized I wouldn’t get to see you in it. Is this how our friendship is always going to be? If so, I don’t like it! But you are going to have so much fun. I know Annie practically by heart. You get to sing really good songs. “Little Girls” and “Easy Street” are two of my favorites from the whole show. Also, I think you get to sit in a rocker and sing a song from an old Jell-O commercial, which is pretty funny.

  I better go now. Mom and Emma will be home any minute, so I should finish getting supper ready.

  No more word from Dad (that I know of).

  Love,

  Elizabeth

  P.S. Howie told me this afternoon that he’s thinking of putting a plaque up just outside the principal’s office. It will read KAREN FRANK BARF MEMORIAL.

  Date: September 22 7:30:57 PM

  From: TSTARR

  Subj: I love bad puns and this one is bad

  To: Eliz812

  Mahatma Gandhi walked barefoot everywhere. Eventually his feet became quite thick and hard. He was also a very spiritual person. Even when he was not on a hunger strike, he did not eat much and became quite thin and frail. Furthermore, due to his diet, he wound up with very gross, very bad breath. THEREFORE: He came to be known as a “super calloused fragile mystic plagued with halitosis.”