Hope Is a Ferris Wheel by Robin Herrera Page A

didn’t, and they just came up with one bad poem after another, their laughter shaking the table. Luckily Winter came home a few minutes later.
    â€œAh, Winter graces us with her presence,” Gloria said.
    â€œDon’t you have an appointment to go ruin somebody’s hair?” Winter said back to her. Then, letting her backpack fall to the floor, she turned to Mom. “I was thinking maybe I could take Star to the redwoods park tomorrow.”
    â€œRedwoods,” Mom scoffed. “You know we had redwoods in Oregon? California acts like they own all the redwoods in the world.” We’d never visited the redwoods when we lived in Oregon, but I think sometimes Mom likes ragging on California the way the rest of us do.
    â€œSo can we go?” Winter asked.
    â€œI don’t know why you’re asking me,” Mom said, dropping her fork on the table. “Usually you just do whatever you want, and I find out about it later.” Which was unfair, because if Winter was doing whatever she wanted, she’dbe sneaking off to the public high school every day.
    Still, I hoped Winter would not start a fight with Mom. An angry Mom would not let us go anywhere tomorrow, and we’d be stuck inside with nothing but Gloria’s rented copy of
Beverly Hills, 90210: The Third Season
.
    Winter swallowed, took a breath, and said, “Well, I apologize. May we please go to the redwoods tomorrow?”
    Mom stuffed a forkful of noodles into her mouth and chewed slowly. We all watched her throat bob as she swallowed. “Fine.”
    I smiled at Winter, and she smiled right back before heading straight for the fridge. “I made this vegetarian, you know,” Mom told her, but Winter said she really wanted a grilled cheese sandwich and asked if there were any pickles. We only had the sweet kind that Winter and I hate, but she ate some anyway.
    Once I was done eating, and after Mom went to walk Gloria back to her trailer, I checked my Dad bag one last time. “Is there anything else I should bring?” I asked Winter. I wanted to bring him our whole trailer. I wanted him to see all the things he’d missed for the last ten years.
    â€œIt’s not like we’re gonna stay overnight,” Winter told me. “Just bring yourself. That’s what I’m doing.”
    So I zipped up my bag and put it in the truck and worked on my outfit. I had a couple of clean skirts but figured theblack one would be best so I could match Winter. And I grabbed the one shirt I owned that Mom had bought at a department store clearance sale instead of at St. Vincent’s, along with my least-frayed pair of tights.
    But my combat boots were a problem. They were so old and scuffed. I reached under my bed for the high-tops Mom had bought for me. They really did look almost new. I put them on, just to try out, and, yup, they still made my feet look flat. Maybe Dad was like me and would like the combat boots better. Even if they weren’t as new.
    I put the boots with the rest of my outfit and chucked the high-tops back under my bed, making sure Mom wasn’t watching. And then there was nothing left to do but wait for tomorrow to hurry up and get here.
    It was a lot like being on the Ferris wheel again and finally coming down to the ground. It was the slowest part of the ride, but at least this time I knew that when I finally got off, Dad would be there waiting for me.

M om microwaved us some breakfast burritos. She was still in her robe, which was odd, because she always likes to shower first thing in the morning. Then Gloria came over with a small bag of donuts and her big bag of hair-care products.
    â€œGloria’s gonna touch up my lowlights,” Mom said. “Then we thought we’d hit a couple of thrift stores. What time will you girls be home?”
    Winter said maybe around dinner, and Mom said, “There’s that many redwoods to see?” and Winter said, “It takes