Bulletin Board

"Quit shoving!" I said and looked out.

Gabrielle was pinning something up, her back to us. She saw the envelope with her name, took it down, and hurried away. --

I turned to Georgia. "If you've monkeyed with one of her notes, I will go to the Dean."

"Go ahead-see how far it gets you."

"Did you touch that note?"

"Sure I did-I wrote it. What's wrong with that?" She had me; anybody can send anyone a note. "Well, what did you say?"

"What business is it of yours? Still," she went on, "I'll tell you. It's too good to keep." She dug a paper out of her purse. It was a typewritten rough draft, full of x-outs and inserts; it read:

Dear Gabrielle,

Today is Bun Peterson's birthday-and we are giving her the finest surprise party this school has ever seen. We would like to invite everybody, but we can't-and you have been picked as one of the girls to represent the freshman class. We are gathering in groups and will descend on her in a body. Your group will meet at seven o'clock in the

Snack Shoppe. Put on your best bib and

tucker-and don't breathe a word to anyone!

The Committee

"It's a shabby trick," I said, "to invite her to another girl's party on her own birthday. You knew it was her birthday."

"What of it?"

"It's mean-but just like you. How did you get them to invite her? You aren't on the committee-are you?"

She stared, then laughed. "She's not invited to anything."

"Huh? You mean there's no party? But there is.,, "Oh, sure, there's a party for Bun Peterson. But that little snip won't be there. That's the joke."

It finally sank in. Gabrielle would go to the Snack Shoppe and wait-and wait-and wait-while the party she thought she had been invited to went on without her. "That strikes you as funny?" I said.

"That's just the beginning," this Lammers person answered. "About eight-thirty, when she is beginning to wonder 'Wha Hoppen?' a messenger will bring another note. It will be blank paper, just like those she sends to herself-then she'll know." She giggled and wet her lips. "The little fake will have her comeuppance."

I started after her and she ducked back of the counter. "You're not allowed back here!" she yelped.

I stopped. "You'll have to come out some time. Then we'll find Gabrielle and you will tell her the truth-all of it!"

"Tell her yourselfl" she snapped. Two boys drifted in and the Registrar came out of the inner office and Georgia became briskly official. I left.

Cliff was waiting at "H-To-L"; I was never so glad to see him.

"Well," Cliff said a bit later, "phone her. Tell her she's~ been had and not to go to the Snack Shoppe."

"But, Cliff, I can't! That would be almost as cruel as the way Georgia planned it. Look-can't you get -- sOmebody to take her to Bun's party?"Cliff wrinkled his forehead. "I don't see how." "Cliff, you've got to!"

"Puddin', today is Gabnelte's birthday, too. Right?"

"Yes, yes-that's what makes it so mean." "You don't want to send her to Bun's party. What we do is give her a surprise party of her own. Simple."

I stared with open-mouthed adoration. "Cliff-you're a genius."

"No," he -- said modestly, "just highly intelligent and with a heart of gold. Let's get busy, chica."

First I phoned MQther. She said, "Tonight, Maureen? I like to entertain your friends but -- " I cut in with a quick up-to-date. Presently she -- said, "I'll -- check the -- deep freeze. Sommers Market may still be open. How about turkey legs and creamed mushrooms on toast?"

"And ice cream," I added. "Birthday parties need ice cream."

"But the cake? I'm short on time."

"Uh, we'll get the cake."

As I hung up Cliff came out of the other booth. "I got the Downbeat Campus Combo," he announced.

"Oh, Cliff-an orchestra!"

"If you can call those refugees from a juke box that."

"But how will we pay for it?"

"Don't ask-it was a promotion. They bid on Bun's party and got left, So they listened to reason. But I'm not doing well on guests, baby."

"You called your house?"

"Yes. A lot of the boys have other plans."

"You call again and tell those free loaders that they will never eat another Dagwood in my house if they are -- not there, on time, and each with a present. No excuses.

This is total war."

"Aye aye, sir~"

We went to Helen Hunt's Tasty Pastry Shoppe. Mr.

Helen Hunt was just closing but he let us in. No birthday cake...not a baker in the place until four the next morning-sorry. I spotted a three-tier wedding cake. "Is that a prop?"

"Frankly, that's a disappointment. My wile and I each entered the same order."

"You're stuck with it?"

"Oh, we may get a wedding cake order unexpectedly."

"Eight dollars," I said.

He looked at the cake. "Ten dollars" -- then added, "Cash."

I looked at Cliff. He looked at me. I opened my purse and he got out his wallet. We had six fifty-seven. Mr. Helen Hunt stared at the ceiling. Cliff sighed and unpinned his fraternity pin from my blouse, handed it over, and Mr~ Helen Hunt dropped it into the cash register.

- He took the little bride-and-groom off the cake, set candles around each tier, then fetched an icing gun. "What name?"