Morning came and with it the sunlight that cast the terrors of the night into a more manageable light. Lizzie hadn’t wanted to talk anymore about the “shadow” inside Roger. She had clammed up and pretended to fall asleep when Maggie tried to coax her to explain what she meant. Maggie had lain in the dark for a long time after that, afraid that she was stuck in a whirlwind of events that she could only be harmed by, and uncertain as to where to proceed if given the chance for one more day in Johnny’s world.
Lizzie had introduced her to Nana, claiming she was a cousin from McClintock, about two hours south, who had come to visit for the day while her mother spent time with a sick friend. Nana, who had the very unoriginal name of Mary Smith, said a polite hello but seemed very uninterested in Maggie or who she was, which was fortunate because she let the girls be. She was like an efficient shadow, cleaning and polishing, providing lunch and putting away laundry, never saying much, her neat self fitting into the neat corner the family had placed her in. She was unobtrusive to the point of being almost robotic, and Maggie wondered that Lizzie spent so much time in the company of someone who seemed so void of personality. It hadn’t put a damper on Lizzie’s personality, however. The girl was brimming with intelligence and life, and Maggie genuinely enjoyed being in her company. She had peppered Maggie with questions, and Maggie had tried her best to answer them, stopping altogether when she felt that strange tugging sensation inside that indicated she was nearing a line that should not or could not be broached.
The fatigue that had so consumed her the night before had left her, and Maggie wondered if it wasn’t some form of cosmic jet lag that had left her system reeling rather then a signal she would soon be going home. With her returned energy, Maggie considered the idea of attending the prom after all. Johnny would be there as would so many others she had heard him talk about. She had even seen pictures. She could do it, couldn’t she? Johnny would be there with Peggy, who was being pursued hotly by Carter, leaving Johnny somewhat free for a “chance encounter.” She would have to go alone, but the more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her.
She bathed in the pink tiled bathroom with the perfectly square tub, brushing her teeth at the pink pedestal sink with handles to turn the water off and on rather than knobs. This bathroom had been redone sometime in the last fifty years. The pink was long gone in 2011.
She let her hair air dry, and then she and Lizzie rolled it into giant scratchy rollers with pink pins that stuck out every which way, making her look like a porcupine with pink quills. Lizzie thought they should go downtown and get her hair cut in the latest style, but Maggie declined. She was willing to go only so far to play the part of a ‘50s teenager. It was while they were rolling her hair in curlers that Lizzie made a horrifying discovery.
“You have holes in your ears!” Lizzie cried, her voice equal parts awe and horror.
“So?” Maggie raised her eyebrows, laughing at the shock on the little girl’s face.
“Nobody has their ears pierced! Irene told me only girls who aren’t very nice pierce their ears.”
Maggie didn’t know what to say. She stared at Lizzie for a moment, wondering if that were true of everyone in the fifties or just the Honeycutts.
“No one wears earrings?”
“Girls wear earrings. See?” Lizzie grabbed a ornate jewelry box sitting atop the vanity table and riffled through it, pulling out two glittering bobs with screw like attachments on the back. She stared at the little loops in Maggie’s ears, as if they were spiders hanging from her lobes.
“How do you get them off?” she whispered, poking at one of the loops.
Maggie popped the earrings out of one ear and then the other, showing Lizzie it wasn’t that big of a deal.
“How do you put those on?” Maggie nodded toward the bobbles in Lizzie’s palm. Lizzie eyed the holes in Maggie’s now bare ears, her face wrinkled in revulsion.
“Good grief, Lizzie!” Maggie chuckled. “Where I come from, everyone has their ears pierced, and sometimes their lips and eyebrows too!
Lizzie backed away, horrified. Maggie could see that Lizzie was a little afraid of her now. Time to change the subject.
“Let me try these. Can’t be too hard, can it?” Maggie stood and took the earrings from Lizzie’s palm, giving Lizzie a comforting pat on her back before she moved away.
“Turn the back until it screws in tight,” Lizzie supplied helpfully, her eyes never leaving Maggie’s earlobes. Maggie sighed and shook her head. Ghosts and time travel didn’t seem to bother the girl, but pierced ears had almost sent her over the edge. The earrings weren’t very comfortable, and Maggie could see why women had eventually given in and put holes in their ears.
It seemed that Irene had more than enough make-up to spare, and Lizzie had spent a fair amount of time watching her big sister apply it. She showed Maggie how to wet the little brush and rub it across the black rectangular pan of mascara to coat it before combing it through her lashes. She then talked her through applying the foundation and powder “just the way Irene does, using the middle fingers only.”
When they pulled out the curlers, though, Lizzie was horrified by the long drooping waves and curls. Maggie thought it looked kind of pretty, though, kind of like a movie star from the 1930s or ‘40s. She parted it on the left side and let the right side play peekaboo with her lined and mascaraed blue eyes. She thought she looked kind of sexy. Lizzie just sighed and let her shoulders droop dejectedly. Maggie was pretty sure Lizzie thought she had blown it before she even set foot at the prom. Hopefully Johnny would think differently.