Phoenix Rising by Cynthia D. Grant Page B

shouting at each other through a thick glass wall. They see the lips move but they don’t hear the words .
    Mom asked Bloomfield to stay for dinner. It was excruciating. Dad and Lucas stared at Bloomfield like he was an escaped lunatic. Mom filled the awkward conversational gaps with fascinating facts about my childhood. Meanwhile, Jessie rolled her eyes like a wild horse every time Bloomfield made a joke. She’s such a twit lately; always moping around. If I don’t do what she wants, she throws a fit. (She wanted me to take her shopping today. Why won’t she get her driver’s permit?!?)
    It’s not that I don’t want to be close to Jess — we just need some breathing room. A lot of people like her but she won’t make friends; she keeps to herself or ends up hanging out with Bambi , who drives her crazy. It seems like Jessie is jealous of Bloomfield , but when I said that, she blew a fuse .
    On the school front: I LOVE my creative writing class. Ms. Tormey is an inspiration. She says I have the talent to make it big, but that perseverance is just as important; that I must develop a thick skin to endure criticism and rejection. (The thick skin I’ve got; I thought that nurse would never find a vein the other day! What’s a little rejection when you’re used to being stabbed?)
    Sometimes I worry that there won’t be enough time; that I’ll die before I have a chance to get famous. But it’s not really fame that I want. (Sure.) I want to be a good writer. I want to capture life on paper .
    Then I think: Who knows how long their ride will last? You live to old age if you’re lucky, and duck the accidents and madmen and floods.… In a world this nuts, it’s amazing so many children live to be adults .
    In other words, I try not to worry .
    I’ve been working on a short story that stinks and a poem that I like pretty well. And I’ve started making notes for this book I have in mind. I’ll call it How to Survive Your Life, and it will be full of odds and ends and helpful hints, like: If you don’t want people to know you’ve been crying, apply Preparation H to swollen eyelids. Works like a charm but it makes you squint. Thanks to Bambi Sue Bordtz for this beauty tip !
    And I’ll include recipes for success, like this one Mrs. Thompson taught us in Home Ec :
    Cinnamon Toast
Bread
Cinnamon
Butter or Margarine
Sugar
    Carefully Toast Bread. Melt One Cube Of Butter Over Low Heat On Top Of Stove. Add One Teaspoon Cinnamon And One Tablespoon Sugar. Stir Continually, Being Careful Not to Burn. Use Basting Brush To—
    Jeez! someone shouted. Make a production out of it! Why not just sprinkle cinnamon and sugar on toast? Mrs. Thompson threw her out .
    The book would contain words that people need to know. Like: Catkin. I love that word. Fuzzy buds on bare branches. Catkin is the name I’ll call my daughter .
    And it would offer cheap advice (a penny for my thoughts) like: In the game of tag with Time, you’re always it .
    The other night I dreamed I was in surgery, and this doctor I’d never seen before (where was Dr. Yee?) was cutting off my arm, then a leg, etc., examining them, and saying: “This one looks fine.” I tried to protest but I couldn’t speak. A phone kept ringing and ringing. The doctor finally answered and held it out to me. I was afraid it was God, but it was Bambi .

10
    My mother tapped on my bedroom door and said, “Jessie, there’s someone here to see you.”
    â€œIf it’s Bambi, tell her I joined the Peace Corps.”
    My mother didn’t answer. Her footsteps faded down the hall.
    I drew back the curtains and looked out my bedroom windows, down to the front door below. Nobody was there. Only Bloomfield.
    In a few minutes my mother came back. “Didn’t you hear me?” she called through the locked door. “You’ve got company.”
    â€œTell him to go