Sharon Creech - Absolutely Normal Chaos

It was Christy, from school. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

She started drooling all over Alex. “Hiiiii, Alex. Oh hi, Mary Lou. Whatever are you doing over here, Alex? I’m here with my cousin. Did you ever meet my cousin Carol? She’s up there,” and she pointed toward the pool and batted her eyelashes at Alex and wiggled her shoulders and SAT DOWN next to Alex on the picnic table.

“Hi,” said Alex.

I didn’t say one word.

“So, what are you doing over here, Alex? Huh? Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“ Nothing ? So why are you over here doing nothing? You live way over in Norton !!” She turned to me and said, “Have you ever seen Alex’s house? I have. I just love your mom, Alex. She’s so sweet . I can’t believe you’re way over here in Easton . Don’t you go swimming in Norton , huh Alex, huh?”

On and on and on she went, babbling away like that, asking about a million questions and never giving Alex a chance to answer anything. I didn’t think she was ever going to leave. I started counting the leaves on this tree next to the table, just to keep from punching her one. I got up to 367 before she finally said, “So hey, Alex, why don’t you come up and go swimming with me and my cousin? Oh, you too, Mary Lou. Come on, Alex, won’t you?” Wiggle wiggle. Smile smile.

And then Alex said, “Can’t. Have to go home.”

So she made this little pouty mouth and said, “Well, Carol’s waiting for me. I’ll let you off this time, Alex….” Wiggle wiggle. Smile smile. And, at last, she got up and wiggled away.

We sat there for a few minutes. Then I said, “Do you really have to go home now?”

And he said, “Nope.”

Then I said, “I think I just figured out who left you that phone message.”

He looked a little disappointed. “Huh?”

“Well, it wasn’t me !” And I gave a meaningful look in Christy’s direction. She was still wiggling off in the distance.

“Ahhh,” he said.

And then you would not believe what he did next.

He put his hand on top of mine . At first I didn’t know if it was an accident or on purpose and I was wondering if I should move my hand. But he pressed his down a little bit, so I figured it was on purpose. Then I started wondering if I should turn my hand over —then he could hold it—but what if he didn’t want to hold it? How am I supposed to know what he’s thinking ? I decided to leave my hand the way it was. If he wanted to turn it over, he could do that himself.

When I think about it right now, I could just swoon away.

And then do you know what he said? He said, “I like you, Mary Lou Finney.”

And I just sat there like some idiot. I just sat there staring at him. He looked so different all of a sudden. He looked like Odysseus probably did when he cleaned himself up and anointed himself after being in the ocean for three weeks. All the girls standing around Odysseus about fell over from his beauty. They thought he was some kind of a god. And that’s what Alex looked like to me. His skin was so pink and healthy-looking and his hair was all clean and shiny and he smelled just like soap.

Well, that sounds ridiculous, I know. Almost as bad as Beth Ann mooning over Derek-the-Di-viiiiine.

Anyway, then Alex got up and he said, “I’ll walk you home,” and he TOOK MY HAND (which turned over automatically, I think) and we walked home, and I still couldn’t talk at all, and just before we got to the corner of my street I pretended I had to scratch my ankle so I could let go of his hand because even though I really liked holding his hand, I would have died if anyone in my family saw that. And at the corner of my street, he said, “Well, I guess I’ll go on home,” and I said, “’Bye,” and he said, “’Bye,” and then he started walking away and all of a sudden I said, “Oh, wait!” and he turned around and smiled and walked back, and he said, “I’ll call you.”

And I truly thought I was sitting on Mount Olympus.

And I know this is boring you to death, whoever you are, and I know I will never ever be able to turn this in to any English teacher after saying all this mush.

But…

I can hardly stand it….

I don’t even want to write about Carl Ray and stuff.

Mary Lou Cheevey. Mrs. Alex Cheevey. Mary Lou and Alex. Mary Lou Finney and Alex Cheevey.

I can hardly breathe.

I didn’t even go out of the house today in case Alex called—which he didn’t and I think I will probably die if he doesn’t.

Oh, God! What am I saying? I hate it when girls moon over boys. I refuse to moon over Alex Cheevey.

But Lord! All day long I kept coming up to my room and lying on my bed so I could remember exactly what happened yesterday and exactly what it felt like holding his hand, and really, if someone else said this to me I would throw up.

I can’t write any more. I just want to think about it. I’ll write about Carl Ray and stuff tomorrow.

I still can’t write. I am hopeless. Alex called today and he came over. I am on Mount Olympus. I’ll write about everything tomorrow. I promise.

Alex had to work all day and couldn’t come over, but he did call and I still am worthless and so I’ll write tomorrow but I am soooooo happeeeeee I can hardly stand it. I just want to think about it.

Well, I still am worthless, but I feel terrible for not keeping track of everything and I will catch up right now.

I think all of a sudden I realize why Beth Ann wouldn’t tell me about Derek and why she’s soooo strange these days. Because I’m acting just as weird as she is, I swear. I’m turning into a real lunatic. All over a boy. I cannot believe it. I am going to try not to act like this. But I see why Beth Ann didn’t want to talk about Derek. You want to keep it floating around in your mind and keep it secret, because there is no way you can explain it to anyone without sounding like a complete idiot.

But I am really going to try. I am going to be reasonable about this. And so first I will talk about everything else. (But God! I LOVE ALEX CHEEVEY!!!!!!)

It’s funny, but when you don’t write things down every day, you forget when things happened.

First, Carl Ray. He bought a car! I didn’t even know he knew how to drive. He doesn’t have it yet (the car)—it’s supposed to be ready tomorrow. He won’t even tell us what kind it is or anything. Maybe he wants it to be a big surprise. Or maybe he forgot what kind of car he bought.

Just about everybody is still hinting like mad for Carl Ray to buy them things, only they don’t hint when Mom is around because she gets so mad. I even heard Dad hinting. He was saying how the lawn mower is a piece of junk and he wishes he had a new one and he even looked through the Sears catalogue (coincidentally when Carl Ray was sitting there watching TV) and kept saying things like, “Oh, here’s a nice one. Too much money, though. Oh well.”

Mom keeps asking Carl Ray if he has written to his parents yet, to tell them about the money, and Carl Ray keeps saying, “Nope.” That does seem a little strange—that he hasn’t told his own parents—don’t you think? Tonight, Mom said, “Carl Ray, if you don’t write them pretty soon, I will,” and Carl Ray looked so mournful and sad that she turned to my dad, and he said, “Don’t look at me .”

One other thing about Carl Ray, while I am on the subject. He’s been watering the Furtzes’ lawn without anybody asking him to or without getting any “gold” for it. What do you think of that?