it won’t happen
again?” I asked. “What if I make sure of it?”
“How are you going to do that?”
“He can stay with my mother, or
Posie—her mother already offered. I can keep him away from him.”
“For how long?” Angela asked. “The
rest of his life? What’s your mother’s story?”
I explained her financial situation
as I understood it—poor, living off her lover—and her housing arrangement. “She
has an apartment,” I said. “Mikey could probably stay with her if she had
enough money to support him.”
“And what about you?” Angela
asked. “Where will you live?”
“Look,” I said, “I haven’t figured
all of this out. I just wanted to talk to you today. I needed information so
I could come up with a plan. I promise I’ll find someplace for Mikey to live
for a while. Then maybe you can help me think of what to do.”
Angela lit another cigarette,
inhaled, blew smoke out of the side of her mouth, and studied me. And what was
I? A scared, nervous girl trying to keep it together, trying to act tougher
than she was, coming to Angela with stories of what evils might or might not be
taking place in her house. I don’t think I came across as hating my father, so
she probably didn’t see me as lying to set him up. I had tried to be honest,
and maybe that was the problem. I said what I thought instead of just laying
it all out for her to decide.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” I said lamely.
“Maybe you’re not, and that’s what
we need to think about.”
The “we” mattered to me. She was
taking me into the partnership.
“Just out of curiosity, what does
your friend—Posie?—think?”
“She thinks he’s definitely
guilty. From everything I’ve told her.”
“But she hasn’t seen anything
either, right?”
“Right.”
Angela nodded. “So we don’t have
any real proof—not that I want there to be any. Believe me, I really hope he
hasn’t done a thing to that kid.”
I sagged into my chair. “So what
do I do now?”
Angela lifted her eyes to the
ceiling to find inspiration there. “Let me think about it,” she said finally. “And
you think too, Lizzie. Why don’t you come back—” She glanced at her calendar
then hit the speaker phone. “Georgia, do I still have that class Friday
afternoon?”
“Far as I know,” came the assistant’s
voice.
“Cancel it.”
Angela turned to me. “Next Friday
at four o’clock, okay?” She stubbed out her cigarette and husked, “I’m
skipping my fencing lesson for you.”
And the angel hovered over
Jerusalem, sword outstretched.
You Can’t Run Forever
[1]
Second place again. Yay! This
time in the Young Voices Creative Writing Contest. I won $50—not bad for a
story that only took me a few hours to write.
It’s about a girl who travels to
China to meet some mystical teacher she’s read about. The teacher turns out to
be this god-like omniscient seer who tells the girl everything that will happen
to her from that second forward, including the fact that she’s about to lose
her legs in an accident.
The girl tries to avoid her fate,
of course, and unlike the woman in The Fortune Teller , she actually
succeeds.
The problem is, by changing just
that one thing, it means all the good things that the seer said were supposed
to happen can’t anymore, and her life becomes this total disaster. The End.
You can’t outrun your fate.
It was the fall of my junior year.
My long bad summer was over.
Posie and Jason were seniors. In
another year they would be moving on, and I’d be stuck alone in high school.
The more I thought about that, the worse it sounded.
Luckily, I had gotten used to
taking matters into my own hands.
“I want out.”
“Excuse me?” My school counselor,
Miss Stewart, stuck her knuckle under the rim of her oversized glasses and
hefted them off her cheeks. It was a nervous habit she had, and I always
wanted to tell her
again?” I asked. “What if I make sure of it?”
“How are you going to do that?”
“He can stay with my mother, or
Posie—her mother already offered. I can keep him away from him.”
“For how long?” Angela asked. “The
rest of his life? What’s your mother’s story?”
I explained her financial situation
as I understood it—poor, living off her lover—and her housing arrangement. “She
has an apartment,” I said. “Mikey could probably stay with her if she had
enough money to support him.”
“And what about you?” Angela
asked. “Where will you live?”
“Look,” I said, “I haven’t figured
all of this out. I just wanted to talk to you today. I needed information so
I could come up with a plan. I promise I’ll find someplace for Mikey to live
for a while. Then maybe you can help me think of what to do.”
Angela lit another cigarette,
inhaled, blew smoke out of the side of her mouth, and studied me. And what was
I? A scared, nervous girl trying to keep it together, trying to act tougher
than she was, coming to Angela with stories of what evils might or might not be
taking place in her house. I don’t think I came across as hating my father, so
she probably didn’t see me as lying to set him up. I had tried to be honest,
and maybe that was the problem. I said what I thought instead of just laying
it all out for her to decide.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” I said lamely.
“Maybe you’re not, and that’s what
we need to think about.”
The “we” mattered to me. She was
taking me into the partnership.
“Just out of curiosity, what does
your friend—Posie?—think?”
“She thinks he’s definitely
guilty. From everything I’ve told her.”
“But she hasn’t seen anything
either, right?”
“Right.”
Angela nodded. “So we don’t have
any real proof—not that I want there to be any. Believe me, I really hope he
hasn’t done a thing to that kid.”
I sagged into my chair. “So what
do I do now?”
Angela lifted her eyes to the
ceiling to find inspiration there. “Let me think about it,” she said finally. “And
you think too, Lizzie. Why don’t you come back—” She glanced at her calendar
then hit the speaker phone. “Georgia, do I still have that class Friday
afternoon?”
“Far as I know,” came the assistant’s
voice.
“Cancel it.”
Angela turned to me. “Next Friday
at four o’clock, okay?” She stubbed out her cigarette and husked, “I’m
skipping my fencing lesson for you.”
And the angel hovered over
Jerusalem, sword outstretched.
You Can’t Run Forever
[1]
Second place again. Yay! This
time in the Young Voices Creative Writing Contest. I won $50—not bad for a
story that only took me a few hours to write.
It’s about a girl who travels to
China to meet some mystical teacher she’s read about. The teacher turns out to
be this god-like omniscient seer who tells the girl everything that will happen
to her from that second forward, including the fact that she’s about to lose
her legs in an accident.
The girl tries to avoid her fate,
of course, and unlike the woman in The Fortune Teller , she actually
succeeds.
The problem is, by changing just
that one thing, it means all the good things that the seer said were supposed
to happen can’t anymore, and her life becomes this total disaster. The End.
You can’t outrun your fate.
It was the fall of my junior year.
My long bad summer was over.
Posie and Jason were seniors. In
another year they would be moving on, and I’d be stuck alone in high school.
The more I thought about that, the worse it sounded.
Luckily, I had gotten used to
taking matters into my own hands.
“I want out.”
“Excuse me?” My school counselor,
Miss Stewart, stuck her knuckle under the rim of her oversized glasses and
hefted them off her cheeks. It was a nervous habit she had, and I always
wanted to tell her
Similar Books
