anything, just accusations.
Pépé watched me, as if following my thoughts.
He said, âYour move.â
I looked down at the board. He was offering me another jump. I concentrated for a long time, thinking ahead, until I understood every possible way the game could go for the next three moves. Pépé waited patiently. The problem was that while I had figured out how to make that triple jump two moves earlier, Pépé had been thinking even further ahead, and all of a sudden things didnât look so good for me.
I finally looked up and said, âI have no good moves.â Pépé nodded.
âThat happens sometimes.â
Marie didnât make it home for dinner that night. We had chicken with rice and peas, which normally I like, but it was hard to enjoy with all the vibes coming off my folks. Mom was all small-mouthed and jittery and silent, eating her food with small bites and chewing them to death. Dad tried to compensate by complimenting her on the food, then going on and on about his plans to build a new fountain in the backyard. Neither of them mentioned Marieâs name the whole time. I tried to lighten the mood by saying, âIsnât this nice, just the three of us!â The mood did not get lighter. In fact, Dad quit talking and his jaw started pulsing.
Later, I was in the living room trying to finish
The Catcher in the Rye
when I heard a motorcycle pull up. It was nine thirtyânot an unreasonable time, even for a school nightâexcept that Marie had promised to come straight home from school every day and not go out for a month. I put down the book and waited for the drama to reboot.
I could see the front entryway from where I was sitting.Dad was the first to appearâheâd heard the motorcycle too. A few seconds later the door opened and Marie stepped inside. Dad didnât say anything. Marie looked up at him with the same stubborn expression she had perfected at age four. She didnât say anything either, at first. Then, after a few seconds that felt like minutes, she spoke.
âWell? Are you going to hit me, or what?â
Dadâs face almost broke. He said, âMarie â¦â
âYouâre all pathetic!â She walked around him and started up the stairs, but ran into Mom halfway up and the screaming commenced.
It was pretty intense. Dad fled to the den and turned on the TV. Marie and Mom went at it right there on the stairs, yelling back and forth. I was starting to think Iâd have to climb up the gutter to get to my bedroom, but after a few intense minutes of back-and-forth, Marie got past Mom and stomped off to her room and slammed the door.
Mom went into what I call her dry-cry mode, tight-faced and breathing loudly through her nose and slamming things around, as she cleaned the kitchen. I tried to finish my book but Holden Caulfield was really starting to piss me off with all his whining. I tossed the book aside with the last thirty pages unread, went up to Marieâs room, and knocked on the door.
âGo away!â she yelled.
I kept knocking, one knock every five seconds, which is really irritating and impossible to ignore. About ten knocks later the door opened and Marie looked out.
âWhat?â she said. Her eyes were red. I couldnât tell if it was from crying or dope.
âAre you okay?â I asked.
She dragged her sleeve across her eyes. âWhy wouldnât I be okay?â
âI donât know. I just â¦are you going out with Kyle now?â
âKyle?â She unleashed a high-pitched, hysterical laugh. âYou must be joking.â
âI just wondered because you rode off with him.â
âHe took me over to Jonâs.â She backed away and sat down on her bed, leaving the door open. I was surprisedâthe number of times Marie had invited me into her room was, I think, zero. I stepped through the door cautiously. Nothing happened. She didnât start
Maggie Brendan
Barbara O'Connor
Jan Washburn
Terri Blackstock
Norah Simone
Barry Kemp
G.P. Taylor
Alan Cumyn
Linda Barnes
Lisa Jackson