I Am a Billboard

I did my best impression of a walking billboard this morning, after I got back from washing my cows--AthletiGlom shirt, AthletiGlom shorts, AthletiGlom sneakers, and even a pair of socks with the AthletiGlom starburst logo on them. Under the shirt I wore an UnderGlom brand sports-bra and I honestly don't know how I got by without one of these for so long. Now I can move around and everything stays where it should!!!

Now that I've got these new sneakers, my hook-shot's improved overnight and I'm unstoppable from half-court. Bam-bam-bam!!! My new record is six in a row and I feel like I could do even better!!!

I challenged Dr. Crisp to a game of HORSE and played HORSE with a vengeance!!! Bam-bam-bam!!! I even made one shot with my eyes closed!!!

"You're in a good mood," said Doc, as he made a nice shot of his own--'tho from much closer cuz that's my handicap.

"I'm in a great mood," I said, and of course I was. Have you ever seen an unhappy billboard?

Corporate America to the Rescue!

There were some great guesses about what was in that big wooden crate I got on Friday. It wasn't a gift from Dr. Crisp or Mrs. Johansson. It wasn't a robot. It wasn't a shrinking machine that would make me the same size as everyone else--and it also wasn't a growing machine that would make everyone else the same size as me.

So are you ready to find out what it was? Okay, I won't make you wait any longer. I pried the lid open and...inside the box...was...

was...

was...

...a bunch of smaller boxes???

Yeah, I was surprised too. Personally I was expecting a pony, but wait--it gets better!!!

Inside the biggest box I found a bunch of athletic clothes--sweatshirts, sweatpants, T-shirts, and sweatbands in a half-dozen colors. And the most wonderful, most impossible thing was that all the clothes were enormous, like tents of jersey material shaped into shirts and pants, and so they fit me perfectly!!! According to the packing slip, it was a custom order from AthletiGlom, which is a division of GlomWear, which is a wholly-owned subsidiary of GlomCorp.

The next box had three pairs of jeans from DenimGlom, another division of GlomWear, the wholly-owned subsidiary of GlomCorp. The jeans had copper rivets the size of quarters and instantly I recognized the D.G. logo on the butt from Mrs. Appleton's fashion magazines. These are the kind of jeans supermodels wear!!! They're super expensive, even in normal sizes!!!

Other boxes had UnderGlom brand undergarments, FootGlom brand sandals, a WinterGlom brand coat, and the greatest gift of all, a pair of high-top AthletiGlom sneakers that make my feet feel like rockets!!!

Mr. Appleton said he's been talking to the people at GlomCorp for a couple weeks about giving me a corporate sponsorship, so all my clothes and stuff would be free like this. Mrs. Appleton is hopping mad at him for going behind her back, and cuz she's sure nothing corporate is ever really free. Actually, what she said was, "Just look at Melly in that shirt. She looks like a walking billboard!"

Mrs. Appleton wants me to send everything back to GlomCorp, but I don't mind being a walking billboard, and it's not like Mrs. Johansson is going to find me anything better to wear. 'Sides, nobody is going to make me give up my amazing new basketball sneakers!!!

What's in the Box?

Jay Appleton rang my bell this morning. I slid the shed door open and looked down at him in surprise.

"I know it's early, but Dad needs you right away. He said for me to wake you."

"I wake up at five every morning for the cows," I reminded him. "I've already been to my farm and back."

"Yeah, whatever." He studied my face for a long moment before adding, "You should probably go easy on the lipstick and eye gunk."

"But your mom said--"

"It's okay on her because she's a mom, but nobody our age wears that much makeup unless it's Halloween. Just ease up a little and you'll look nice."

"I'll look nice? Really?" It didn't seem normal for Jay Appleton to pay me a compliment, so I squinted at him with my clown-painted eyes until he broke a sweat and turned away.

"Melly, seriously. If you're going to be my foster sister, you're going to have to try a little harder to fit in. As well as you can, I mean, considering your size." Even though he wasn't looking at me I could hear the blush in his voice. "Aw hell, you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean but I don't know why you'd care."

"Survival," he told me. "I'll get beat up bad enough for having a carnival sideshow for a sister, but I can't imagine how much worse it'll be if you're made up like a circus clown!"

"Oh, come on! If somebody has a problem with me, why would they take it out on you?"

"Which one of us is the easier target? Think about it, Melly!"

I did think about what Jay had said for all the time I followed him around the house to where Mr. Appleton was waiting for us. Of course I'm worried about school and how the other kids will treat me. I'm worried they'll call me names, hurt my feelings, and refuse to talk to me--but I'm not worried about anyone causing me real physical pain. How could they, when everyone is so much smaller than me? But Jay is so short and weak that he could get beaten up by a ten-year-old. Or by a girl. Or by a ten-year-old girl. It's tough to be me sometimes, but it must be really tough to be Jay Appleton. When I realized that it made me want to scoop him up, give him a big hug, and tell him everything was going to be all right--but of course I didn't. I just kept walking behind him until we reached the front of the house.

Mr. Appleton was standing on the porch with a very anxious FedEx delivery guy. He looked up, and up, and up at me, swallowed hard, and asked, "Are you Melinda Mills?"

I nodded.

"Rush delivery for you. Sign here, please." He handed me an electronic pad and a stylus that was almost as small as one of my eyelashes.

I've never signed for a package before. Heck, I've never gotten any packages or mail or postcards from anyone in my life!!! I pressed down hard enough to break the first stylus and pad and had to try again, more carefully, with a second set. It took three FedEx workers to wheel the package--a large wooden crate--from the back of their truck, 'tho I was able to carry it back to the shed by myself cuz it only weighed about half as much as a cow.

You'll never guess what it was or who it was from, but go on and try. Go on, guess!!! I'll give you the weekend, and then I'll tell you all about it on Monday.

The Results Are In!

My makeover is done and Mrs. Appleton is crowing about how beautiful I am. I have to admit, I do see a difference when I look in the full-length mirror she gave me--well, it's full-length for her but smaller for me, of course. My cheeks are pink and my lips are red, and all the stuff around my eyes will take some getting used to. My hair is trimmed but also puffed up and out. It's hard to describe but it looks really good. My own cows will hardly recognize me!!!

I look a bit like Mrs. Appleton now. I knew she wore a lot of makeup, but I never guessed how much time it took to look like that. The beauty women gave me lessons on how to use the little brushes and the whole shelf full of jars and bottles they left behind. It's going to take hours for me to get "made up" like this every day!!! I can't take that time away from caring for my cows so what do I give up, studying or basketball practice???

"I only wish Mrs. Johansson had your new clothes made by now," Mrs. Appleton said.

That made Mr. Appleton smile for the first time all day. "We'll see to that tomorrow," he said. Mrs. Appleton looked at me like didn't know what he meant by that, and neither did I.

Attack of the Beauty Women

Mrs. Appleton insisted on giving me a makeover before I meet the school board, and today's the day. It seems a makeover is when somebody points out all your faults before plastering over them with bottles of slimy gunk.

Mrs. Appleton said my hair was scraggly and misshapen, so I shouldn't use Pa's old hedge shears to trim it anymore, or shampoo with the same soap I use to scrub the cows. Also, my skin tone is blotchy cuz I spend so much time outdoors and my nails are "calling out" to be buffed and polished. Mrs. Appleton hired three women from the beauty parlor to come to my shed and help her--and right now Mr. Appleton is breathing hard into a paper bag cuz it costs a whole bunch of money for three beauty women to make an all-day house call.

Mrs. Appleton and the beauty women spent the morning combing out my hair and covering my face with green goop. Right now the beauty women are on their lunch break and Mrs. Appleton is at the drug store buying more gunk, so I have a few minutes for this blog entry. The only reason I can see at all right now is cuz they don't grow cucumber slices large enough to cover my eyes!!!

Giant High

I had a dream the school board voted to rebuild the high school so everything would be my size. It was great for me, but nobody else could open any of the doors. I was the only one who could reach the latch on my locker, and all the other kids had to struggle to push bags of oversized textbooks down the halls. And the teachers were all shorter than their desks, so nobody could see them!!!

The best part was the basketball court. They put an oversized basket 32 feet high and made the balls almost three feet across, so I had to use two hands to shoot them, and I had to jump to get rebounds like the players on TV. I couldn't dunk the ball on that court but that was okay cuz I was the only person in the world who could make a free-throw!!!

They probably won't do all that just for me, but wouldn't it be nice?

Know Your Enemy

Here's what I've been able to find out about the people on our town's school board:

Dr. Crisp - He's my doctor and my tutor, and I'm sure he'll fight as hard as he can to do what's best for me. Of all the adults in my life, Doc is the one I trust the most--but don't tell Mr. and Mrs. Appleton I said that!!!

Mrs. Rodriguez - Doc says she's been on the school board for-ev-er. She was one of Doc's teachers when he was in school, and Doc's not exactly young. Doc says I should be respectful to her cuz she comes from another time, like maybe the age of dinosaurs!!!

Coach Saunders - He's the coach of the high school football team, which Doc says is a big deal in our town. I told Doc I'd try to learn how to play if that would help, but It seems the team is just for boys. That doesn't seem fair to me, but I'm not supposed to tell that to Coach Saunders.

Mrs. Lee - Her family has money. Lots of money. They own a good part of the town, and control a lot of the rest. Take the school, for example. You can't own a public school, normally, except that Mrs. Lee joined the school board and so now she kind of does.

And finally...

Mr. Peterson - He's the president of the board and Mayor Peterson's son. Mr. Peterson also wants to be mayor someday, and Doc says sometimes he acts like he's already taken over.

They're going to come by the orchard one at a time over the next two weeks, when they have time in their busy schedules, and then they'll get together for a big important meeting. Doc says they'll be discussing lots of stuff other than just me, and it's all routine, but I'm still very nervous!!!