Landlocked (A water witch novel) Read Online Free Page A

lecture or learning schedule for her juniors and seniors—or sophomores and freshmen for that matter.
    “Wanted to know what?” I asked.
    “If you really felt that way about the character, or if you were just repeating an answer you thought to be accurate.”
    My scalp prickled in irritation, thought to be accurate? “I already told you that I did feel that way. And not just because I know it’s an accurate description of the character as stated by Steinbeck himself, but because I cry every time I read the part when Lenny kills her, not for her but for Lenny.”
    “You’re getting mad again,” he accused with amusement ringing in his voice. I wanted to smack the grin off of his face, was he always going to be laughing at me? “No one ever questions you, do they?”
    My cheeks warmed… no people didn’t. “Why do you even care?” I asked, fighting the strange urge to harrumph.
    He smiled and put his hands up defensively. “I was just curious. See, I've heard your take on the character from many different people, not ever a fellow high school student as most are uninterested in dissecting literature.” He looked around the room again, seeming to assess everyone. “But I've always felt the opposite about her.”
    “The opposite? So what do you think about Curley’s wife?” I stopped myself from saying, if you’re so smart. I was too interested in what he had to say to be facetious.
    He noticed Ms. Reed doing yoga in the corner and his eyebrows knitted together.
    “Don’t worry. This is almost a free period.”
    “She was the character that garnered the most pity from me. She still is every time I read Of Mice and Men.”
    “What? How? I mean, even the author—”
    “It doesn’t matter what the author intended, how the words on the page move you is all that does. Curley’s no name wife existing just as an object to complicate Lenny’s life and eventually be killed, created with the purpose of having as little emotional attachment to her as you would, in your words, a lamp?” he said thoughtfully. “How could you not feel bad for her?”
    He gazed at me, dark eyes searching, waiting for my response. I didn’t know what to say. I had never thought about it like that. Everyone else in the book had been given a name, a dream, a personality you could love and root for. But she had been given none of those things.
    “I still think she's retched, but I can see your point,” I allowed before returning to my blank canvas. So he had a brain to go with that body? Impressive, but it didn’t change anything.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    2
     
    Clarissa and I sat in the back of the Prius with our hair still heavy and damp from swimming.
    “I’m just saying, I think we should display it at your booth,” Clarissa said holding up a stick figure doodled onto lined paper. “Of course, I wouldn’t want my art to outshine Silvia’s...”
    I laughed and nudged her. “I think it would complement some of your pieces beautifully. Don’t you think, Sylvia?”
    Her eyes were squinted in a smile when they met mine in the rearview mirror. “Anything of Clarissa’s is welcome in my show.”
    “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I am terrible at every form of art, unlike Maribel.” She sighed. “Don’t you get tired of being perfect at everything all the time?”
    “I’m not perfect.” I decided there was no way my hair was going to dry into anything other than a complete mess, so I tied it up into a bun.
    “Name one thing that you don’t do perfectly.”
    “That’s not even a challenge!” I laughed. “I’m late everywhere I go, I have no social life to speak of, and I have a bad temper.”
    “Now that you mention it… I am better than you in almost every way.” She winked at me. “If you ignore every bad boy decision in my past that is.”
    “I don’t know if I can ignore such a large list!”
    “You’re both perfectly sweet—“ Sylvia chimed