We cheer. Mary keeps at her work. “He loves me, he loves me not.” The little squares glide gracefully to the floor. “He loves me, he loves me not.”

“Throughout our show, we’ll be watching those pennies, symbolized by wafting squares of toilet paper, pile up. Mary’s an inspiration to all of us. Right, Jean?” I nod. My left arm punches the air. Almost imperceptibly, Sara dodges.

“He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.” I try not to get too tickled. I want to be a good second banana.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sara leans forward dramatically. “Those phones aren’t ringing. How can we Stamp Out Normalcy unless we get those phones ringing? You’ve got to give.

“All of you out there, if you have a normal child or grandchild, you know the importance of this cause. Please call and give what you can.

“And if you have a crippled child, have you ever thought, ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I’? It’s true. Normalcy can strike any family. You should light up these phone lines in celebration of your good fortune, and thank God for your crippled child! Right, Jean?”

I nod and wish with all my heart that it were true. Thank God for crippled children!

“If we can stamp out normalcy in this generation, all our children will be safe from this dreadful scourge.” I nod a great big nod they can see in the back row. The state senator whispers in Mr. Bob’s ear.

“Hey, our operators are busy now!” Yvonne and Margie pretend to talk on the telephone. “This is beautiful.”

I nod.

“Margie, how are we doing?”

Margie hangs up her invisible phone and holds up the picture of the thermometer. “Sara, our goal is one hundred thousand.” She studies the thermometer, marked at ten. “We have raised—ten.” A triumphant Margie leads the applause. I think Mr. Bob’s face is red, although I can’t tell for sure, not at this distance in yellow bug lights. Margie sits down, pleased with herself and her long speech.

“That’s a terrific start, but we need to do better to lick this problem. Right, Jean?”

I nod.

“He loves me, he loves me not.”

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to meet someone very special, one of the unfortunate people we are here to help. Peggy Jo!”

She walks out, pulls up a folding chair, and shakes hands with Sara. “I know it takes a lot of courage to come out here. Tell the people why you’re doing it.”

She sits down and crosses her legs. “Well, I want to help find a cure. I’d give anything to be like everyone else.” She pretends to wipe away a tear.

Sara squeezes her arm. “Tell the people what it’s like to live with a horrible condition like normalcy.”