True To Form by Elizabeth Berg Read Free Book Online Page A

Nashes entered?” I ask. “What if it’s another one?”
    â€œIt’s not!”
    â€œBut it could be!”
    â€œBut you have to find out!”
    I start to dial, then say, “But wait . . . do you have to wait until ninety-nine minutes?”
    â€œNo! You have ninety-nine minutes to call before it’s too late!” Cynthia picks up the receiver. “I’m calling.”
    â€œOkay,” I say. “But if it’s me, I’ll talk.”
    â€œOh, what’s the number, what’s the number, I forgot!” Cynthia says, and for a minute I almost don’t know either, even though I hear that number every night. But then I remember and I tell her, and she dials. Then she starts laughing, wheezy excited, looking at me with her eyes all wide, and she has to turn her back on me so she can get serious again.
    I sit with one hand squeezing the other to death and hear her say. “Yes, I’m calling about the travel contest? You just announced thewinner?” Then there is a pause of about three hundred years. She turns to look at me, all lit up, and then says, “No, I’m not Katie Nash, but she’s right here.” She is nodding her head up and down real fast. “Yes,” she says, and then “All right, I will.” She turns down the radio, then hands the phone to me, and all of a sudden it seems like everything in the universe has stopped dead in its tracks. “Hello?” I say.
    â€œKatie?” a woman’s voice says.
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œHi! I’d like to verify that you’re Katie Nash of 1617 Melrose Drive, St. Louis. Is that right?”
    â€œYes,” I say, in a mouse voice.
    â€œWell, congratulations! Now, hold on for a second for Freddy, and remember to keep your radio down, okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œWe’ll have you on the air in just a minute.”
    Oh my God, my insides are saying, but I can’t give in. One minute, kid, the next minute, famous. I knew something big would happen this summer, I knew it. I sit straight up and look only at Cynthia’s walls because if I look at her, forget it.
    I hear Freddy doing a commercial in the background plus on the radio, but he is ahead of himself on the phone. I wonder if something is wrong. But then, “Hi, there, Katie!” Fab Freddy says. It’s him, I know his voice, it is the real Fab Freddy on the telephone with me.
    â€œHello,” I say back and feel like smacking myself on the head for how I sound. Then, “Hi,” I say, like he did—all casual and friendly.
    â€œCongratulations!” he says. “You’re our winner!”
    â€œYes,” I say, “thank you.”
    â€œAre you excited?”
    â€œYes, sir.” Then, “Wow!” I add.
    â€œSo! Where in the world are we sending you, Katie Nash?”
    â€œOh! . . . Um, to Texas?”
    â€œTexas, Welllllll, where at in Texas? San Antonio, I’ll bet! Suck down some of those margaritas, down by that ol’ green river!” Then he makes a bunch of high Mexican sounds, with lots of yips and rolling Rs. “Is that where you’re headed, darlin’?”
    â€œNo, sir. I’m going to Ford Hood.”
    â€œTo what?”
    â€œFort Hood?”
    â€œFort Hood! And where is that, Katie?”
    â€œIt’s in Killeen.”
    â€œAh ha! . . . And where is Killeen?” He says Killeen like he’s saying Xmqtriwzxm.
    â€œWell, kind of in the heart. In the heart of Texas.”
    â€œThe stars are bright,” Freddy sings.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œWell now, what in the world made you pick Fort Hood , Katie?”
    Now the air hangs so heavy and I realize I could have said New York City. Or Paris, France! But I say, “I used to live there, and I want to see a friend.”
    â€œOkay!” Freddy says. “Well, you’re on your way, kiddo! Have a great time,