The Luckiest Girl Read Online Free Page A

taxied toward the airport building that a moment ago had looked like a shoe box, all Shelley could think of was that now she could unpin the ten-dollar bill that her mother had insisted she pin to her slip in case she lost her purse when she changed planes. Shelley had not wanted to pin that bill to her slip—at sixteen she was certainly old enough to hang on to her purse—and she had started to protest but had thought better of it. Talking about the ten-dollar bill and what she should do if she lost her money had helped fill those last awkward minutes at the airport this morning, when she was about to leave home for the first time in her life and suddenly discovered she did not know what to say to her mother and father. And what was even more surprising, her mother and father did not seem to know what to say to her. Oh, they said the expected things like Be careful of strangers, and Study hard, and Don’t forget to write, but Shelley knew that these remarks were only meant to fill up the long minutes until her plane was announced.
    Shelley unfastened the seat belt and remembered how surprised she had been to learn that at sixteen there were so many things a girl could not say toher mother and father—things like I’m both glad and sorry to be leaving, and I really do feel dreadful about grinding up those roses in the Disposall, and Please don’t look so sad behind your smiles—nine months isn’t forever and I’ll write often.
    The heat, as Shelley stepped through the door of the plane, was like the blast of a hair dryer against her face. She walked down the steps and as soon as she stepped onto the concrete, the door was shut behind her, the steps were rolled away, and the plane, her last link with everything she had known, was heading down the runway once more. I’ll pretend I’m a stranger in a foreign land, Shelley told herself, and tried to feel a little braver. Somehow her legs carried her through the gate toward a woman with curly hair touched with gray whom she recognized as Mavis.
    â€œShelley!” cried Mavis Michie. “How wonderful to see you after all these years! We’re so glad to have you!”
    â€œI’m glad to be here.” Shelley smiled shakily. “Mother sends her love.”
    Mavis led the way to a battered station wagon. As they left the Vincente airport and headed toward San Sebastian, Shelley settled back for her first look at California from the ground. In thatspot California was flat and brown, shimmering in the heat, and not at all what Shelley had expected, although exactly what she had expected she did not know. Something lush and tropical, perhaps.
    Mavis pointed to a row of towering trees and identified them as eucalyptus. Shelley noticed that their smooth trunks were shedding their bark in long, ragged strips. She had never seen a tree shed bark before and had, in fact, been told that a tree could not live without bark. Apparently things were different in California. In the distance, against the mountains they were approaching, was a row of palm trees, the first Shelley had ever seen. They looked to her like a row of shabby feather dusters balanced on their handles. Then the station wagon rattled across a bridge and Shelley was shocked at what she saw below. There was no water in the riverbed . Never in her whole life had Shelley seen a river without water.
    Next the station wagon passed a stretch of orange trees. A grove, thought Shelley, and not an orchard. How tidy it looked. The trees were round, with branches so low they touched the ground. The green oranges looked as if they might have been hung among the leaves for decoration. Even the soil beneath the trees was arranged in neat furrows.
    â€œWhat are those round metal things between the trees?” asked Shelley.
    â€œSmudge pots,” answered Mavis. “If there is danger of frost, the pots, which are filled with oil, are lighted to keep the oranges from being