Miss Scarlet's School of Patternless Sewing by KATHY CANO-MURILLO

for the Johnny Scissors tuition. Last week she had called the enrolled students about the location change, and all but four dropped out. Scarlet made the mistake of using Carly’s switchboard to take the initial reservations, and suspected her fickle boss had something to do with her students’ sudden mood change.
    No worries,
Scarlet thought. She made a batch of posters and fliers featuring vintage images of Daisy at her sewing machine and hung the signs around the neighborhood and in Marco’s shop. She did get one bite—Mary Theresa, a shy but adorable mom of twins who had driven all the way across town on her lunch hour to Vega’s Vicious Vinyl just to buy a John Coltrane album as a gift for her husband. Scarlet hoped maybe someday she would have that kind of love in her life.
    Mary Theresa rounded out the group to five students.
    If she let herself dwell on it, Scarlet would have panicked at the thought of losing out on $23,000. But $2,500 was better than nothing. The rest would come, just like the decorations did. In the meantime, she would present the best sewing workshop in the universe.

8
     

     
    B y the time ten a.m. arrived, every table had a student behind it. Scarlet stood on the tips of her pointy toes and opened her arms to the class.
    “Hi-de-ho, my chicas, welcome! From the bottom of my heart, thank you for attending my first-ever workshop,” she said. “By the time the curtains go down on this class, your lives will have changed for the better.” She clasped her hands behind her waist, and paced about the concrete floor to continue her introductory pep talk.
    She spent the next twenty minutes sharing her backstory of her love for her Mexican American culture, and how she was the only Santana in her family to inherit her great-grandfather’s red hair. She expressed her admiration for Daisy de la Flora, giving up engineering, her job at Carly’s, and her anticipation for the Johnny Scissors program.
    “All right, let’s talk patterns and why we are foregoing them,” Scarlet said. “A pattern is comprised of elements that repeat in a predictable manner. The question I present is—why be predictable? Even though we are here for sewing, I believe there are deeper reasons the word “patternless” caught our attention. We all have a pattern we are working from to build the framework of our lives. But we can change it, enhance it, or skip it altogether.”
    “What is your pattern, Miss Scarlet?” one of the students asked.
    Scarlet winked. “Great question, love. Well, my pattern was crafted for me long before I ever came into the world. It’s the same pattern that all of my family used. I don’t want to
totally
disregard it. I just want to put my own mark on it—you know, to make it one of a kind. Now it’s your turn. Who wants to go next? Tell us your name and the story of your own pattern.”
    Two young girls in the front row exchanged looks as if to agree to go first. “We will,” said a blonde in a black fedora and hoop earrings. “I’m Stephanie, I’m a junior at Apollo High. I’m here to check out my mom’s pattern for me. She thinks I spend too much time playing softball, basketball, and tennis, so she made me take this class with my sister. You know, to help me be more… girly, I guess. I don’t mind trying my mom’s way as long as I can make gym shorts. Is that cool?”
    “Of course,” Scarlet said. “Tell your mom thanks! And who is your sister?”
    “Jennifer. She’s your stalker.”
    Jennifer, with black curly hair and a glittered rose behind her ear, scrunched her cheeks, squinted her eyes, and wagged her fist at Stephanie, then seamlessly morphed her expression into that of a teen angel. “I’m a sophomore at Apollo and I want to use whatever pattern
you
use, Miss Scarlet. I am a devoted follower of your blog. I pinkie swear we are so much alike. I love all the old movies like you do, and I love it when you talk like a retro girl. I’m ready to bebop if you