madder.
I wandered out to the kitchen, where I began pacing. I had to find a way out of here, and soon. The obvious choice was to run off with Mom’s car; but knowing her, she’d call the police on me for stealing it. I probably wouldn’t even make it out of the state.
From down the hall came the whine of Walter’s power drill. I paused in front of the china cupboard and pulled three cigarettes from Mom’s half-empty pack, then proceeded to light one.
***
Supper that evening was unbearably tense. Mom had put together a hamburger hot dish, but neither of us could eat as we anticipated Walter’s return. Every tiny noise made my heart leap into my throat. Mom carried her plate over to the counter so she could watch the driveway while she ate. I gave up and locked myself in my bedroom. I hunched motionless on the floor in the semidarkness, my back against my bed and my knees pulled up to my chin. Like a piece of a song on a broken record, a single thought played over and over in my mind. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get out of here.
Time passed. My legs cramped up and my back ached, but still I sat, numb with silent desperation. It was then I received a most remarkable gift.
Mom tapped at my door. “Tessa? Come on out here. You’re not gonna believe this.”
She sounded happy – almost excited. I uncurled my stiff limbs and said, “What?”
“Walter’s in jail. He’s not coming home. I just got the call.”
A wild burst of hope sent me scrambling to my feet. I fumbled at the bolts in my haste to open the door. “Really?”
Mom’s eyes were wet as she nodded. “Really.”
“What happened? How long’s he gonna be there?”
“A month, I suppose. That’s about all that’s left of his sentence.”
“Probation violation, huh?”
We both laughed. Walter was constantly in violation, but he was hard to pin down.
“He can just stay there,” I said. “Couldn’t we call and ask them to keep him?”
Mom laughed again. “That’s a good idea. I wish I’d thought of it. But seriously, I don’t know how we’d pay the bills without him. It’s gonna be tight as it is.”
Her concern did nothing to dampen my joy. No Walter meant no fighting, no threats, no trips to the tavern, no late nights working at the old farmhouse. I could sit in the living room and watch TV in the evenings, eat supper in peace, and go to bed at decent hours. Life was going to be awesome!
Little did I know that Walter wasn’t the only problem in my life.
10
S chool days were always a challenge. I was sure if my friends found out what I was like, they’d want nothing to do with me. So I pasted on a smile, laughed at all the jokes, and worked hard in an effort to blend in. I wasn’t an exceptional student, but I could pull passing grades if I put in the time. The only subject in which I couldn’t was algebra.
I hated algebra. Adding and subtracting letters made no sense to me. I could limp through the daily assignments, but tests were a nightmare. Complicating matters was the fact I had an algebra guru sitting behind me in class.
Gary was a short, fat kid with a pimply face and thin straight hair that was so pale it looked white. Everything came easily to him – math, science, art, even music. Unfortunately, one of his favorite pastimes was picking on people who were less gifted, like me.
On this particular day, I’d just gotten another test back – with red marks all down the front and a “54” marked at the top. It wasn’t my fault. I’d tried my best to battle the beastly problems with guesswork, at one point even making up a sample problem with numbers in place of the letters in a desperate attempt to rediscover the rules of algebra. But Mr. Stone didn’t care how hard I’d tried; he only cared whether my answers were right. And they weren’t.
With the best show of indifference I could muster, I creased the test in half and shoved it between the pages of my
I wandered out to the kitchen, where I began pacing. I had to find a way out of here, and soon. The obvious choice was to run off with Mom’s car; but knowing her, she’d call the police on me for stealing it. I probably wouldn’t even make it out of the state.
From down the hall came the whine of Walter’s power drill. I paused in front of the china cupboard and pulled three cigarettes from Mom’s half-empty pack, then proceeded to light one.
***
Supper that evening was unbearably tense. Mom had put together a hamburger hot dish, but neither of us could eat as we anticipated Walter’s return. Every tiny noise made my heart leap into my throat. Mom carried her plate over to the counter so she could watch the driveway while she ate. I gave up and locked myself in my bedroom. I hunched motionless on the floor in the semidarkness, my back against my bed and my knees pulled up to my chin. Like a piece of a song on a broken record, a single thought played over and over in my mind. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to get out of here.
Time passed. My legs cramped up and my back ached, but still I sat, numb with silent desperation. It was then I received a most remarkable gift.
Mom tapped at my door. “Tessa? Come on out here. You’re not gonna believe this.”
She sounded happy – almost excited. I uncurled my stiff limbs and said, “What?”
“Walter’s in jail. He’s not coming home. I just got the call.”
A wild burst of hope sent me scrambling to my feet. I fumbled at the bolts in my haste to open the door. “Really?”
Mom’s eyes were wet as she nodded. “Really.”
“What happened? How long’s he gonna be there?”
“A month, I suppose. That’s about all that’s left of his sentence.”
“Probation violation, huh?”
We both laughed. Walter was constantly in violation, but he was hard to pin down.
“He can just stay there,” I said. “Couldn’t we call and ask them to keep him?”
Mom laughed again. “That’s a good idea. I wish I’d thought of it. But seriously, I don’t know how we’d pay the bills without him. It’s gonna be tight as it is.”
Her concern did nothing to dampen my joy. No Walter meant no fighting, no threats, no trips to the tavern, no late nights working at the old farmhouse. I could sit in the living room and watch TV in the evenings, eat supper in peace, and go to bed at decent hours. Life was going to be awesome!
Little did I know that Walter wasn’t the only problem in my life.
10
S chool days were always a challenge. I was sure if my friends found out what I was like, they’d want nothing to do with me. So I pasted on a smile, laughed at all the jokes, and worked hard in an effort to blend in. I wasn’t an exceptional student, but I could pull passing grades if I put in the time. The only subject in which I couldn’t was algebra.
I hated algebra. Adding and subtracting letters made no sense to me. I could limp through the daily assignments, but tests were a nightmare. Complicating matters was the fact I had an algebra guru sitting behind me in class.
Gary was a short, fat kid with a pimply face and thin straight hair that was so pale it looked white. Everything came easily to him – math, science, art, even music. Unfortunately, one of his favorite pastimes was picking on people who were less gifted, like me.
On this particular day, I’d just gotten another test back – with red marks all down the front and a “54” marked at the top. It wasn’t my fault. I’d tried my best to battle the beastly problems with guesswork, at one point even making up a sample problem with numbers in place of the letters in a desperate attempt to rediscover the rules of algebra. But Mr. Stone didn’t care how hard I’d tried; he only cared whether my answers were right. And they weren’t.
With the best show of indifference I could muster, I creased the test in half and shoved it between the pages of my
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