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flesh-colored hue of lipstick, and her hair was still styled in that Carol Brady flip that made it look as if a stiff baby octopus sat atop her head. Her inexplicably shiny complexion and fake-friendly smile were that of a wannabe-glamorous trailer-park mom, and her perpetual squint made the color of her eyes and pinpoints of her pupils indiscernible. She was no doubt the unholy lovechild of Renee Zellweger and Mr. Magoo.
    Unnerved to see Ms. Abilene so untouched by the years, Lindsey was convinced that the seventh-grade dominatrix definitely had some Picture-of -Dorian-Gray thing going on. Wanting to disappear, Lindsey hid from Ms. Abilene by stepping behind a rotating rack of serial paperbacks,
Deeds of the Saints
.
    After a moment, Sister Constance clapped her hands together and said, "Ladies, let us commence."
    A few standard school announcements were made about the stairwell lamps being out of service, end-of-year grades due, and Boraxo to be used sparingly in the lavatories. Sister Constance caught Lindsey off guard when she announced, "And I'd like to introduce our new office girl, an alum of St. Maude's whom I am proud to welcome, Miss Lindsey Owyang."
    One might have expected a few polite remarks, but no. Instead, Lindsey heard a few whispers, such as, "Cheeky, cheeky girl."
    "Always acting the maggot, that one," and in a thick, Gaelic accent floating from the back of the room, "She's no better than a fishmonger's wife."
    She bit her lip. Obviously, no one had forgotten about the Pope shitting in the woods. These phrases uttered by the teachers were the same ones used to describe Lindsey more than once when she was a student. Although she hadn't gleaned their meanings back then, today, if she had a copy of 501 Irish Verbs, she could look up their definitions:
     
    Being Cheeky: acting in a manner worthy of being slapped on either or both cheeks as many times as deemed necessary by nuns of miniature stature.
     
    Acting the Maggot: conducting oneself shamefully, squirming about as does a maggot or other subhuman larva.
     
    Behaving No Better than a Fishmonger's Wife: sneaking around like a daft harlot, fool enough to be married to a "monger," whatever that was.
    Despite the chilly welcome, Lindsey smiled and gave a little wave. Sister Constance pulled her granny spectacles down with her index finger to the tip of her broken-capillaried daschund nose and tsk-tsked as she caught sight of Lindsey's pink nail polish. Mrs. Mann clasped her hands together like a chipper cruise director and in her clipped yet throaty voice reminiscent of Miss Jane Hathaway on
The Beverly Hillbillies
said, "Miss Owyang is at your disposal to perform any of your end-of-the-year or summertime tasks. Just leave your instructions for her on the office chalkboard. You needn't worry about her efficacy, which is sure to be splendid because, as her student records show, she routinely received First Honors and was Miss Perfect Attendance five years in a row!"
    The small crowd disbanded and Lindsey looked to the pastry tray to see if any cookies were left. Blocking her view was a mannequin-still Ms. Abilene, who suddenly turned to face Lindsey, her false lashes quivering slightly like venus flytraps coated in Maybelline mascara. Lindsey averted her gaze but could feel Ms. Abilene's sand-speck pupils boring into her head like weevils into a cotton ball.
    Panicked, Lindsey decided to make a run for it. She bolted for the door and made it safely to the hallway, which smelled of rubbing alcohol and aerosol chalkboard cleaner. Terrified, she scurried back to the foyer office to featherdust the portraits of the archbishops.
----
Something Scuzzy This Way Comes

     
    Lindsey always had vague aspirations of being an artist, but who had time to mope around all day in unsanitary, paint-splattered coveralls? Sure, she was creative, but her artistic inclinations hadn't yet propelled her to an MFA or a career as a graphic designer. Instead, she worked part-time as