Gingerbread by Rachel Cohn Page A
Authors: Rachel Cohn
Tags: Fiction, General, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 10-12), Social Issues, Interpersonal relations, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Children's 12-Up - Fiction - General, Adolescence, Family - General, Social Issues - Adolescence, Mothers and daughters, Stepfamilies, Family - Stepfamilies, Social Situations - Adolescence
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Pacific Heights and the Marina, I can see straight to the old prison island of Alcatraz. Did you know that prisoners who were marooned on Alcatraz could actually hear from their prison cells the voices of people in San Francisco laughing and having a good time, carried over by the strong Bay winds? I'm now calling my room Alcatraz. It is my desolate island where I can see people outside laughing and having a good time and I am sure they are all allowed to spend the night at their boyfriend's without being put on lockdown.
Everyone is walking around the house like it is a mortuary. Even the hyper-sibs are weirding out. Everyone is
56
trying to be super nice to me, like they are afraid I will totally go postal in my new equation of 1 + Gingerbread = Alcatraz princess room. We're all whispering to each other and saying "please" and "thank you" all the time like we are strangers. After the night of screaming and slamming doors and tears, no one wants to break the peace.
I do. But I am biding my time.
Sid and Nancy have forbidden me to see Shrimp until the new school year starts. They said we all need a cooling-off period. I don't know what they are so afraid of. If they had any sense, they would know he is a dream boyfriend. And it's not like I am some vestal virgin. The headmaster from boarding school made sure they knew that. I guess Nancy likes to practice what they call "revisionist history" in my social studies class, because she is trying to lock me up like there is still something sacred left in me that's worth saving.
Josh and Ash are following me around the house like puppies. They are not used to me being home so much. But no amount of Josh doing Pee Wee Herman impressions or Ash braiding my hair and letting me use her Jell-0 stomach for a pillow when we are watching videos can cheer me up.
I need a Shrimp.
I need a Wallace and stories of Australian-Indonesian lovers. I need Delia doing plies all around the espresso machines.
I NEED A JAVA THE HUT COFFEE! BAD!
The only thing to do in Alcatraz is play Helen Keller. When I was little, Nancy used to read me this book all about how Helen was blind and deaf and survived like every obstacle to become this inspirational person. I would like to
56
57
be an inspirational person, so late at night, when everyone is asleep and I would rather be snuggling up with Shrimp, I put a blindfold over my eyes and earplugs into my ears to drown out the sounds of the Bay winds, and I clutch Gingerbread to my heart and we walk around the puke princess room feeling the hard walls and pressing our cheeks against the cold window panes. Learning how to suffer without sight or sound will hopefully one day lead us down an inspirational path.
Helen was not mute but I am trying to be. I am not speaking to Nancy except when 1 have to. When we brush past each other in the mornings, I mumble, "Excuse me," and continue on my way. On my way to nowhere, that is, wandering around this huge boring house where Leila does not even care when I try to join her in the kitchen and explain to her the difference between a latte and a cappuccino. It's all about steamed versus foamed milk and the kind of drinking glass you use, I try to tell her, but she's all French-Canadian Zut alors! and she says, I have a job to do all day long, get out of the way.
Leila is furious at me because now Nancy is home all day long watching me like a hawk, which means she is in Leila's hair all day long, Leila do this, Leila do that . I offered Leila help to do this and that but she said, Non . I guess if I were Leila I would be mad at me too.
Only Gingerbread understands. She agrees that we are going to have to figure out a way to emancipate ourselves. We are thinking of adopting smoking habits, since that will at least occupy some of our time. Plus, smoking habits will really annoy Nancy.
Unfortunately, neither of us likes when our hair smells
58
like smoke, so we are trying to work out a compromise.
Gingerbread is
Everyone is walking around the house like it is a mortuary. Even the hyper-sibs are weirding out. Everyone is
56
trying to be super nice to me, like they are afraid I will totally go postal in my new equation of 1 + Gingerbread = Alcatraz princess room. We're all whispering to each other and saying "please" and "thank you" all the time like we are strangers. After the night of screaming and slamming doors and tears, no one wants to break the peace.
I do. But I am biding my time.
Sid and Nancy have forbidden me to see Shrimp until the new school year starts. They said we all need a cooling-off period. I don't know what they are so afraid of. If they had any sense, they would know he is a dream boyfriend. And it's not like I am some vestal virgin. The headmaster from boarding school made sure they knew that. I guess Nancy likes to practice what they call "revisionist history" in my social studies class, because she is trying to lock me up like there is still something sacred left in me that's worth saving.
Josh and Ash are following me around the house like puppies. They are not used to me being home so much. But no amount of Josh doing Pee Wee Herman impressions or Ash braiding my hair and letting me use her Jell-0 stomach for a pillow when we are watching videos can cheer me up.
I need a Shrimp.
I need a Wallace and stories of Australian-Indonesian lovers. I need Delia doing plies all around the espresso machines.
I NEED A JAVA THE HUT COFFEE! BAD!
The only thing to do in Alcatraz is play Helen Keller. When I was little, Nancy used to read me this book all about how Helen was blind and deaf and survived like every obstacle to become this inspirational person. I would like to
56
57
be an inspirational person, so late at night, when everyone is asleep and I would rather be snuggling up with Shrimp, I put a blindfold over my eyes and earplugs into my ears to drown out the sounds of the Bay winds, and I clutch Gingerbread to my heart and we walk around the puke princess room feeling the hard walls and pressing our cheeks against the cold window panes. Learning how to suffer without sight or sound will hopefully one day lead us down an inspirational path.
Helen was not mute but I am trying to be. I am not speaking to Nancy except when 1 have to. When we brush past each other in the mornings, I mumble, "Excuse me," and continue on my way. On my way to nowhere, that is, wandering around this huge boring house where Leila does not even care when I try to join her in the kitchen and explain to her the difference between a latte and a cappuccino. It's all about steamed versus foamed milk and the kind of drinking glass you use, I try to tell her, but she's all French-Canadian Zut alors! and she says, I have a job to do all day long, get out of the way.
Leila is furious at me because now Nancy is home all day long watching me like a hawk, which means she is in Leila's hair all day long, Leila do this, Leila do that . I offered Leila help to do this and that but she said, Non . I guess if I were Leila I would be mad at me too.
Only Gingerbread understands. She agrees that we are going to have to figure out a way to emancipate ourselves. We are thinking of adopting smoking habits, since that will at least occupy some of our time. Plus, smoking habits will really annoy Nancy.
Unfortunately, neither of us likes when our hair smells
58
like smoke, so we are trying to work out a compromise.
Gingerbread is
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