Watch How We Walk by Jennifer LoveGrove Page B

classrooms all around it. Outside the librarian’s office is a chart that lists the volunteers’ responsibilities for each of their shifts. Emily loves being a library volunteer; she rarely has to talk to anyone. Today her job is to shelve the picture books in the little kids’ section. She waves to Mr. MacKay through his office window and wheels the cart of books over to the shelves.
    As she works, Emily wonders if Lenora will be in a good mood when she walks her home from school tonight, and will tell her about high school and the weird teenagers there and the cafeteria where you can actually buy French fries, or if she’ll be angry for some reason and ignore her. Emily has a present for Lenora, from art class last week when they finished their pottery projects. Emily made a clay candle holder for her sister who likes to burn candles, and glazed it shiny black with blood red dripping over the edges — Lenora’s favourite colours.
    â€” Don’t you want to use a nicer colour than black, Emily? Her teacher tilted her head and put her hands on her hips. Emily shook her head emphatically and continued. The teacher muttered something about “religious kids” and “depressing” and moved on. For once Emily didn’t care. Lenora wears a lot of black and red. The candle holder is nestled safely at the back of her desk, wrapped in four layers of silver tissue paper.
    As she slides the books alphabetically into their spots, aligning the spines evenly along the outer edge of each shelf, a girl with long braids and bottle-thick glasses walks over to her. Her dress shoes are shiny and wet-looking, and her skirt has big blue flowers on it, blooming and loud. She stops in front of Emily and leans toward her.
    â€” How come you have to stand out in the hallway every morning?
    No hello, no introduction, just this question that Emily has been asked countless times — and still she has no good answer. At least this time it wasn’t, “What do you do to get in trouble every single day? You’re always sent out to stand in the hall! You don’t look that bad. You look like a goody-goody!”
    â€” Because.
    Emily thinks her name is Agnes. What a terrible name. It looks like the word “acne.” Emily tries not to look at the small gold cross on a chain around her neck. Idolatry.
    â€” Are you Agnes, from Miss Wilson’s class?
    â€” Yes. You’re Emily. Mr. MacKay told me to come and watch you put the books away. I’m new on Library Staff, but I already know the Dewey Decimal system by heart, so you don’t need to show me anything. Agnes smiles, and her small, pointy teeth gleam in perfect symmetry. She stares at Emily.
    â€” Oh. Okay. Emily doesn’t know what else to say, so she just continues to put the books away. After a few minutes of feeling watched, she breaks the silence.
    â€” The picture books are alphabetical by last name.
    â€” Obviously. Agnes is still smiling at her, but in a way that seems more demanding than friendly.
    â€” You didn’t answer my question.
    â€” What question? Emily pretends not to understand.
    â€” Why do you have to stand out in the hall during the national anthem and the Lord’s Prayer? You can’t get in trouble every single day of school.
    Emily’s face reddens. She knows that this is her opportunity to Witness to Agnes, to tell her about the Truth, and to offer her some magazines if she is interested. “Interested” is one of the categories at the Hall; if you get a worldly person “interested,” you have achieved the first step in turning them into a Witness. Her dad would be so proud of her if she placed some Watchtower sat school. He always tells her to be stronger and braver, to talk to her classmates about living forever in Paradise on Earth, about Jesus and the Last Days and Armageddon. Emily never does. She hasn’t placed any magazines at school, not even