swallowed a ton
of lead.The fan? What the hell was he thinking? The fan?That was all he could
come up with? It was as if his brain
had suddenly taken a vacation, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop. . . .
“Yeah. You know .
. . the fan that I got you for your class.”
“It’s fine,” she
said uncertainly.
“Because I can
get you a new one if you don’t like it.”
She reached out
to touch his arm, a look of concern on her face. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m
fine,” he said seriously. “I just wanted to make sure you’re happy with it.”
“You picked a
good one, okay?”
“Good,” he
said, hoping and praying that a bolt of lightning would suddenly shoot from the
heavens and kill him on the spot.
• • •
The fan?
After she
pulled out of the parking lot, Miles stood without moving, wishing that he
could turn back the clock and undo everything that had just happened. He wanted
to find the nearest rock to crawl under, a nice dark spot where he could hide
from the world forever. Thank God no one was around to hear it! Except for Sarah.
For the rest of
the day, the end of their conversation kept repeating in his head, like a song
he’d heard on early morning radio.
How’s the fan
working out? . . . Because I can get you a new one . . . I just want to make sure
you’re happy with it. . . .
It was painful,
physically painful, to recall it. And no matter what else he did that
afternoon, the memory would lurk there under the surface, waiting to emerge and
humiliate him. And on the following day, it was the same thing. He woke up with
the feeling that something was wrong . . . something . . . and boom! There was
the memory again, taunting him. He winced and felt the lead in his gut. And
then he pulled the pillow over his head.
A Bend in the Road
Chapter 8
So how do you
like it so far?” Brenda asked.
It was Monday,
and Brenda and Sarah were sitting at the picnic table outside, the same one
that Miles and Sarah had visited a month earlier. Brenda had picked up lunch
from the Pollock Street Deli, which in Brenda’s opinion, made the best
sandwiches in town. “It’ll give us a chance to visit,” she’d said with a wink,
before running out to the deli.
Though this
wasn’t the first time they’d had the chance to “visit,” as Brenda put it, their
conversations had usually been relatively short and impersonal: where supplies
were stored, whom she needed to talk to to get a couple of new desks, things
like that. Of course, Brenda had also been the one whom Sarah had first asked
about Jonah and Miles, and because she knew Brenda was close to them, she also
understood that this lunch was Brenda’s attempt to find out what, if anything,
was going on.
“You mean
working at the school? It’s different from the classes I had in Baltimore, but
I like it.”
“You worked in
the inner city, right?”
“I worked in
downtown Baltimore for four years.”
“How was that?”
Sarah unwrapped
her sandwich. “Not as bad as you probably think. Kids are kids, no matter where
they’re from, especially when they’re young. The neighborhood might have been rough,
but you kind of get used to it and you learn to be careful. I never had any
trouble at all. And the people I worked with were great. It’s easy to look at
test scores and think the teachers don’t care, but that’s not the way it is.
There were a lot of people I really looked up to.” “How did you decide to work
there? Was your ex-husband a teacher, too?”
“No,” she said
simply.
Brenda saw the
pain in Sarah’s eyes for a moment, but almost as quickly as she noticed it, it
was gone.
Sarah opened
her can of Diet Pepsi. “He’s an investment banker. Or was . . . I don’t know
what he does these days. Our divorce wasn’t exactly amicable, if you know what
I mean.”
“I’m sorry to
hear that,” she said, “and I’m sorrier I brought it up.” “Don’t be. You didn’t
know.” She paused before
of lead.The fan? What the hell was he thinking? The fan?That was all he could
come up with? It was as if his brain
had suddenly taken a vacation, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop. . . .
“Yeah. You know .
. . the fan that I got you for your class.”
“It’s fine,” she
said uncertainly.
“Because I can
get you a new one if you don’t like it.”
She reached out
to touch his arm, a look of concern on her face. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m
fine,” he said seriously. “I just wanted to make sure you’re happy with it.”
“You picked a
good one, okay?”
“Good,” he
said, hoping and praying that a bolt of lightning would suddenly shoot from the
heavens and kill him on the spot.
• • •
The fan?
After she
pulled out of the parking lot, Miles stood without moving, wishing that he
could turn back the clock and undo everything that had just happened. He wanted
to find the nearest rock to crawl under, a nice dark spot where he could hide
from the world forever. Thank God no one was around to hear it! Except for Sarah.
For the rest of
the day, the end of their conversation kept repeating in his head, like a song
he’d heard on early morning radio.
How’s the fan
working out? . . . Because I can get you a new one . . . I just want to make sure
you’re happy with it. . . .
It was painful,
physically painful, to recall it. And no matter what else he did that
afternoon, the memory would lurk there under the surface, waiting to emerge and
humiliate him. And on the following day, it was the same thing. He woke up with
the feeling that something was wrong . . . something . . . and boom! There was
the memory again, taunting him. He winced and felt the lead in his gut. And
then he pulled the pillow over his head.
A Bend in the Road
Chapter 8
So how do you
like it so far?” Brenda asked.
It was Monday,
and Brenda and Sarah were sitting at the picnic table outside, the same one
that Miles and Sarah had visited a month earlier. Brenda had picked up lunch
from the Pollock Street Deli, which in Brenda’s opinion, made the best
sandwiches in town. “It’ll give us a chance to visit,” she’d said with a wink,
before running out to the deli.
Though this
wasn’t the first time they’d had the chance to “visit,” as Brenda put it, their
conversations had usually been relatively short and impersonal: where supplies
were stored, whom she needed to talk to to get a couple of new desks, things
like that. Of course, Brenda had also been the one whom Sarah had first asked
about Jonah and Miles, and because she knew Brenda was close to them, she also
understood that this lunch was Brenda’s attempt to find out what, if anything,
was going on.
“You mean
working at the school? It’s different from the classes I had in Baltimore, but
I like it.”
“You worked in
the inner city, right?”
“I worked in
downtown Baltimore for four years.”
“How was that?”
Sarah unwrapped
her sandwich. “Not as bad as you probably think. Kids are kids, no matter where
they’re from, especially when they’re young. The neighborhood might have been rough,
but you kind of get used to it and you learn to be careful. I never had any
trouble at all. And the people I worked with were great. It’s easy to look at
test scores and think the teachers don’t care, but that’s not the way it is.
There were a lot of people I really looked up to.” “How did you decide to work
there? Was your ex-husband a teacher, too?”
“No,” she said
simply.
Brenda saw the
pain in Sarah’s eyes for a moment, but almost as quickly as she noticed it, it
was gone.
Sarah opened
her can of Diet Pepsi. “He’s an investment banker. Or was . . . I don’t know
what he does these days. Our divorce wasn’t exactly amicable, if you know what
I mean.”
“I’m sorry to
hear that,” she said, “and I’m sorrier I brought it up.” “Don’t be. You didn’t
know.” She paused before
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