Mary Jane by Jessica Blau (best motivational books .txt) 📕

“Ah,” Izzy said.

“I’ve got an idea.” Jimmy nudged away a few hardcovers with the side of his bare foot and then sat on the ground beside me.“For each letter, we take turns coming up with a song that starts with that letter. And if you can’t think of a song, youget a point. The person who has the most points loses.”

“A, B, C, D,” Izzy sang. “I won.”

“Not yet,” Jimmy said. “Wait till we start working. When we played this as kids, we couldn’t begin until the car was moving.”

“Did your mom and grandma play too?” I asked.

“Yeah. Granny only sang church songs. She just loved when it was her turn on the letter J.”

I worried Jimmy would see me as out of touch like his granny. The only songs I knew were from church, Camp Fire Girls, thetwins’ house, or the Broadway soundtracks in my house. Of course, I knew some of Jimmy’s songs now that Izzy and I had playedhis records so many times. But I figured he wouldn’t want to hear me sing Running Water songs in this game.

“Okay. Let’s start NOW!” Izzy held a book above her head like a trophy.

“Hold on!” I raised my hand like I was in school. Jimmy winked and pointed at me.

“Mary Jane?”

“Before we put the books on the shelves, we need to put them in alphabetical piles on the floor. All the A authors, all the Bs, etc. Then we’ll alphabetize each pile. After that, we’ll shelve them.”

Izzy lowered the book and held it before her face. She squinted as she examined the cover “S. Right?” It was by Saul Bellow.

“That book’s great,” Jimmy said. “But Augie March is even better.”

“S was a good try,” I said. “But you have to look at the first letter of the last name. I put my pointer finger on the lastname.

“B?”

“Excellent! Now put all the B books”—I wrote a giant B on a piece of paper, then stood and cleared a spot on the far wall—“here.” I laid the B down on the ground.

Izzy stepped over the books and placed Henderson the Rain King in front of the paper with the B, and then she started singing “A, B, Cs” again to get Jimmy’s game going. Jimmy sang along, poking through books and making a separate pile of his favorites that he saidI should try to read. I promised I would, but didn’t look through any of them just then as I was busy writing out the alphabetand finding space for the lettered papers around the room.

When it was Jimmy’s turn, he sang “Bye Bye Blackbird.” I harmonized and Izzy just bopped her head as she didn’t know the words.

I paused nervously at my turn. Then I remembered “Chantilly Lace,” a song from the ’50s that I knew from an album the twins had. If Jimmy could sing “Bye Bye Blackbird,” then “Chantilly Lace” wasn’t so bad. Izzy didn’t know this one either, but she continuedto bounce her head to the beat. Jimmy sang with me, in a cartoony, low voice, just like the Big Bopper—the guy who sings iton the album.

We were at songs that started with the letter R when Mrs. Cone and Sheba came into the living room.

“I want to help,” Sheba said.

“Look at the last name,” Izzy said. “When you find the last name, you read the letter, okay? And then you look for the EXACTsame letter on the paper and you put the book there. We’re alphabetting. Get it?”

“I think so,” Sheba said.

“Me too.” Mrs. Cone rubbed Izzy’s head and then started picking through the books.

Jimmy explained the song game and Sheba immediately said “Rhinestone Cowboy.”

“Ah, c’mon! No Glen,” Jimmy said.

“He was before your time, baby. You know I don’t love him anymore.” Sheba was staring Jimmy down. They both looked very serious.Had Sheba been a couple with Glen Campbell and did Jimmy hate him because of that? I was scared for a second that they weregoing to fight again, but soon enough, Jimmy smiled and crossed the room so he was standing right in front of Sheba. And thenthey locked their faces together, like they had noses made of magnets, and they kissed, deep and wet.

I turned my head and looked away. Izzy didn’t seem to notice. Mrs. Cone watched them with a yearning but slightly anxious look in her eyes. I wondered if she wanted to be Sheba kissing Jimmy. Or maybe she wanted Dr. Cone to kiss her that way. Kissing like that seemed so advanced. Maybe one day I’d just stand lip to lip with someone. For starters.

The longer the kissing went on, the more my face burned. Finally Izzy broke the silence by singing “Rhinestone Cowboy.” Iknew the words too, because the twins’ mother owned all of Glen Campbell’s records. When we got to the chorus, Sheba and Jimmyfinally stopped kissing and joined in. Mrs. Cone was singing too, but her mind seemed elsewhere. Her face went from the booksto Jimmy to the books to Sheba.

We were on the letter V when I had to sing again.

“Uh . . . uh . . .” All I could think of was “My Victory” from church. This pained me so much that I considered taking the point and passing my turn.

“No church songs!” Izzy said, as if she could see into my head.

“Oh! Wait. What about ‘Kumala Vista’? We’ll go by the last word in the title, like the last names on books. V for Vista.” I was so relieved to not sing a church song that I didn’t mind singing a Camp Fire Girls song.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me. I kneeled on the ground and slapped my knees twice and then my handstogether to get the beat. In my head it sounded like cha-cha, pop, cha-cha, pop. . . .

Izzy kneeled and clapped along. And then Jimmy, Sheba, and Mrs. Cone did too.

“Well, shit, Mary Jane, give us the words, will ya?” Jimmy said, smiling.

“You have to repeat after me,” I said. “And follow my hand motions, too.”

“Oh, I love