Darling. It took me a second to realize she meant Cooper. Nobody I knew called him Zebediah. And nobody I knew paid any attention to his opinions – not in a positive way, at least. Mrs Darling said that if I did decide to join there was a workshop where I could learn the basics, but for now I could just sit in on a class and see what I thought. I explained that I probably wouldn’t be able to stay too long because my friend was coming for me. I stayed all afternoon.
I sat in with the youngest class, which was taught by Mrs Hendricks from the hardware store. It was the second time since elementary school that I’d been in a group where everyone else wasn’t taller than I was. The other cool thing was that, unlike the kids I’d worked with in the summer who often had a limited attention span when it came to nature, these kids were endlessly enthusiastic. They didn’t fidget, or complain they were tired or thirsty, or wander off to stomp on some unwary insect the minute you turned your back. They were all systems go right to the very end. The person who had trouble concentrating was me. I’d get involved with the class for a while, but then I’d suddenly remember Savanna and start worrying about her again. Where was she? Was she all right?
I’d had to leave my phone in my backpack because they weren’t allowed in the classrooms. Had she made it to Java? Was she trying to call me? Was she mad at me for deserting my post? Or was she striding up Main Street, punching ONMYWAY into her phone? Every time I heard someone in the hall I looked up, half expecting to see Savanna peering through the window in the door, rolling her eyes and sighing. I kept trying to read Mrs Hendricks’ watch upside down.
When we finally took a break, I went into the hall to check my phone (there weren’t any messages) and Mrs Hendricks came after me. She wanted to know if I’d mind if next week we split the class into two groups. “That’s only five each,” said Mrs Hendricks. “They’d get so much more out of it.” I hemmed and hawed.
Well … you know … I’m not really sure…
“Oh, but you have to come back,” said Mrs Hendricks. “They really like you. You have so much charisma.” I did? That didn’t sound like me. “Of course you do,” said Mrs Hendricks. “You’re terrific with them. You’re a natural teacher.” She gave me a big smile. “You must take after your dad.”
So that would be the point where I finally stopped thinking about Savanna Zindle, what she was doing and what kind of mood she was in. I had charisma … I was a natural teacher … I took after my dad … I got into the rest of the afternoon with a vengeance. And I didn’t remember Savanna when the class was over, either. I was too excited. So instead of remembering Savanna, I hung out in the café in the basement with Cooper and a couple of the other volunteers for nearly an hour. They called him Zebediah and acted like he wasn’t even a little bit weird. I had such a great time that I was still buzzing when I got back home. I couldn’t wait to tell my dad all about it.
It was starting to get dark, but he was still out in the yard, raking up the leaves. He was wearing his old plaid jacket and singing “I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night” while he worked, but he broke off when he saw me turn up the front path.
“You’re so quiet, I didn’t hear you coming,” said Dad. “Where’s your early-warning system?”
That would be Savanna Zindle.
So this would be the point where I finally remembered her again. I stopped like a polar bear who’s just noticed that the ice has melted all around her. How could I have totally forgotten about Savanna? OK, I’d had a busy afternoon, but it wasn’t
that
busy. It wasn’t as if I’d been fighting off The Forces of Darkness by myself armed only with my Swiss Army knife or anything like that. Which is the kind of thing that would pretty much put everything else out of your mind. I was doing
I sat in with the youngest class, which was taught by Mrs Hendricks from the hardware store. It was the second time since elementary school that I’d been in a group where everyone else wasn’t taller than I was. The other cool thing was that, unlike the kids I’d worked with in the summer who often had a limited attention span when it came to nature, these kids were endlessly enthusiastic. They didn’t fidget, or complain they were tired or thirsty, or wander off to stomp on some unwary insect the minute you turned your back. They were all systems go right to the very end. The person who had trouble concentrating was me. I’d get involved with the class for a while, but then I’d suddenly remember Savanna and start worrying about her again. Where was she? Was she all right?
I’d had to leave my phone in my backpack because they weren’t allowed in the classrooms. Had she made it to Java? Was she trying to call me? Was she mad at me for deserting my post? Or was she striding up Main Street, punching ONMYWAY into her phone? Every time I heard someone in the hall I looked up, half expecting to see Savanna peering through the window in the door, rolling her eyes and sighing. I kept trying to read Mrs Hendricks’ watch upside down.
When we finally took a break, I went into the hall to check my phone (there weren’t any messages) and Mrs Hendricks came after me. She wanted to know if I’d mind if next week we split the class into two groups. “That’s only five each,” said Mrs Hendricks. “They’d get so much more out of it.” I hemmed and hawed.
Well … you know … I’m not really sure…
“Oh, but you have to come back,” said Mrs Hendricks. “They really like you. You have so much charisma.” I did? That didn’t sound like me. “Of course you do,” said Mrs Hendricks. “You’re terrific with them. You’re a natural teacher.” She gave me a big smile. “You must take after your dad.”
So that would be the point where I finally stopped thinking about Savanna Zindle, what she was doing and what kind of mood she was in. I had charisma … I was a natural teacher … I took after my dad … I got into the rest of the afternoon with a vengeance. And I didn’t remember Savanna when the class was over, either. I was too excited. So instead of remembering Savanna, I hung out in the café in the basement with Cooper and a couple of the other volunteers for nearly an hour. They called him Zebediah and acted like he wasn’t even a little bit weird. I had such a great time that I was still buzzing when I got back home. I couldn’t wait to tell my dad all about it.
It was starting to get dark, but he was still out in the yard, raking up the leaves. He was wearing his old plaid jacket and singing “I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night” while he worked, but he broke off when he saw me turn up the front path.
“You’re so quiet, I didn’t hear you coming,” said Dad. “Where’s your early-warning system?”
That would be Savanna Zindle.
So this would be the point where I finally remembered her again. I stopped like a polar bear who’s just noticed that the ice has melted all around her. How could I have totally forgotten about Savanna? OK, I’d had a busy afternoon, but it wasn’t
that
busy. It wasn’t as if I’d been fighting off The Forces of Darkness by myself armed only with my Swiss Army knife or anything like that. Which is the kind of thing that would pretty much put everything else out of your mind. I was doing
Similar Books
