Free Show Time by Sue Stauffacher Page A

at the time. This was the first time a member of the Carter family had a lead role in a public performance. As with all recipients of a CFH Award, Razi got to choose the sweet. He’d been thinking about it since Mama had “remembered it” to him.
    “Let’s go to Sweetland and buy M&M’s in designer colors,” he suggested as the Carter family finished anearly dinner so that Razi wouldn’t be too full during his dance routine. “No, wait.” He shook his head. “That lady wasn’t nice to me.”
    “You can’t blame her for enforcing the rules. You stuck your hand in the bin.” As soon as she’d cleared her place, Grandma had begun filing her nails. She planned to wear her green velvet coat and her favorite emerald ring, which Big Bob had given her. In honor of the emerald theme, she was painting her nails “ruby red,” just like the color of Dorothy’s shoes in the
Wizard of Oz
movie.
    “Ummmm …” As Razi thought, he tried to touch his nose with his tongue. Paulo imitated his brother.
    “Ummmm …,” Paulo said. He gave up and pressed his nose flat with the palm of his hand.
    “I’m still the only one who can do it,” Keisha informed her brothers, expertly sticking out her tongue and tapping the bottom of her nose with it. “If I were you, Razi, I’d pick The Cone Shop and get ice cream. Your cone won’t melt at this time of year … even if you dawdle.”
    “I know!” Razi jumped out of his chair. “We’ll go to Charley’s Crab and have the inside-out German chocolate cake!”
    “Excellent idea.” Daddy took Paulo out of his booster seat and swung him in an arc around the room.
    “No!” Razi held up his finger. “I want to go to Marie Catrib’s and have the carrot cake. That’s my final final.”
    “You don’t have to decide your final final until after the show,” Mama reminded Razi. “You just can’t change your mind after we start driving.”
    Since Rocket got excited whenever Daddy swung Paulo or when Razi hopped up and down, the Carters’ puppy was now doubly excited. Even though Mama hadn’t released him from his “down-stay,” he jumped up on Razi, who grabbed his front paws and twirled around the room with him.
    “All this commotion is making it hard to clear the table,” Mama said. “And I need to be early to check the length.”
    Mama had made the prettiest gossamer skirts for the snowflake dance. Since they had elastic waists, she’d had Keisha try on every one to make sure they had just the right swinginess. But they couldn’t touch the floor or else someone might trip.
    Keisha picked up the puppy and let him touch the tip of her nose with his tongue. “Shouldn’t you be practicing, Razi?”
    “I am,” Razi said, heel-toeing across the floor. “Listen, Key. It sounds like rain.”
    “I mean your routine.”
    Razi stiff-stopped and made his arms rigid. “My
what
?”
    “Your routine. What you’re gonna do onstage.”
    “Don’t you know anything, Keisha? It’s never the same dance twice.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means if you forget …” Razi’s feet interrupted his mouth with a flurry of tippy-taps. “You just improvise.”
    “Improvise?”
    “You make it up.”
    “How can you make it up? It’s a routine!” Keisha and Rocket had to jump out of the way of Razi’s swinging arms.
    “Well then … look at everybody else and do what they’re doing!”
    “When I do my routine, it’s always the same. Every time. Yours is, too. I’ve watched you practice.”
    Razi just rolled his eyes as if Keisha didn’t understand anything about performing.
    Mama said, “Ada, take Rocket for a quick walk around the block. He’ll be in his crate most of the evening.”
    Keisha pulled on her boots, her coat and her mittens. The late-afternoon sun slanted through the tree branches and glistened on the snow as Rocket attackedevery pile that had drifted against a mailbox or bush.
    Snatching up a stick, Rocket offered Keisha the