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Mrs. Yongé(continued)
There was a huge color TV, the kind that probably cost a thousand dollars, at that time an uncommon item in my neighborhood. As the World Turns was on with the sound off. There was hardly any furniture otherwise and absolutely no knick-knacks. All the other women I knew had shelves hanging on their walls filled with collections of some kind: bells, porcelain animals, spoons, milk glass, whatever. On end tables they had ashtrays, framed photographs, lidded dishes full of butterscotch. Mrs. Yongé had none of these. There was a utilitarian looking sofa like you'd see in a doctor's office facing the TV and a dinette table with two folding chairs over by the window. The carpet on the floor, a black background floral, did not go with the blue-gray tweed sofa. The only thing hanging on the wall was a map. She saw me looking at it. "You like? You want to see it close by? Go, go to look." Having no choice, I obeyed. I had the candy down now and could talk without choking. "What's it of?" I asked. "The area here!" she said. "Look there, that is where we are, that is this street!" She reached up and fiddled with the frame around it and suddenly the map changed. The part we had been looking at got bigger and now showed the roofs of houses. I gasped. "Yes, yes, Su-san, look. There is this house we are in." She pointed to another. "There is your house! See there, your dog is in the yard." I was fascinated but alarmed. She knew about my dog? Had I ever mentioned Trevor's existence to her? Desperately I tried to recall. And what was this map made of, a TV screen? It didn't look like a TV screen but more like slick paper. She motioned for me to sit on the stiff sofa and seated herself next to me. When she looked at me, it was as if she was eating me up with her eyes, possibly the way I would look at a lovely new kitten. I felt squirmy and uncomfortable at being the subject of such seemingly adoring scrutiny. Was she planning to eat me? If she were a vampire, her behavior would make sense. I shivered. "So tell me, Su-san, what are you studying at school? You are going to Art Camp this summer? Have you begun your classes in French?" My mouth fell open. Had my mother told her about the French? If so when? "I, uh, haven't started yet. It's not 'til seventh grade." They'd given tests at school to see where we should be placed in junior high in the fall and I'd been offered accelerated French classes. This meant beginning French in seventh grade instead of ninth. Why would Mrs. Yongé be interested in this and how did she know about Art Camp? She smiled showing movie star teeth. Actually, everything about her was perfect even though she seemed very old. I don't know why I felt this but I kept thinking she was about a hundred years old. That would be impossible, looking the way she did. "I believe you will enjoy French," she said mysteriously. Her grin was giving me the creeps. "Maybe," I mumbled, feeling myself redden under her observation. "Maybe sometime you will go to a French speaking country. You might have adventures there and enjoy making art." "I don't like traveling," I told her. She smiled. It was an I-know-something-you-don't smile.
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