Watch How We Walk Read Online Free Page B
Author: Jennifer LoveGrove
make the two universes back into one.
â Thanks for the ride. As they get out, the boy rolls down his window and Lenora leans in toward him, and they murmur to each other, smiling. Then she waves her arm toward Emily.
â Sorry about all this. She grabs her sisterâs school bag and carries it the rest of the way home for her.
â Youâre not going to mention this to Mom or Dad when we get inside, are you?
Emily is not a tattletale. Sometimes she forgets that sheâs not supposed to mention certain things and talks too much, but she doesnât believe in ratting on her sister. Lenora always has a good reason for everything, even if it seems wrong at first. One day, soon, she will be able to fend for herself, but for now, she owes Lenora, and Lenora knows it. They will keep certain things from their parents, and Emily will not be a threat. They will protect each other.
Emily shakes her head, no longer crying, and pictures Tammyâs back, her jacket flailing in the wind as she slumped away. Maybe Tammy will never make fun of her again. Maybe she will finally be left alone.
Emily wonders if Jehovah made Lenora show up like that, just in time.
5
THE BASEMENT WAS COLD AND dark. I sat hunched and cramped in a small arc of yellow light from a desk lamp. Outside, the wind wailed and shoved the snow into drifts against the house. It had snowed for two days; school was cancelled and there werenât enough ploughs to keep all the roads clear. I had brought the coffee maker down with me, and the air smelled acrid and sharp. I had no need to venture upstairs. My stomach contracted and twisted in on itself but I ignored it. Hunger helped keep me awake. I hadnât slept for a couple of nights. The snow blocked the light from the windows and I was losing track of the days.
I yawned in spite of myself. The clock read 3:02 a.m. I still had a lot of studying to do for geography and history and English literature. Exams were two days away. I had to stay awake. I pushed back my chair and stood up, stretched, shook my limbs. The room tilted and began to lurch and spin. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. I grabbed the side of the desk and rested my hands on my knees. Better. I breathed and decided I could have some of the carrot sticks Iâd brought down earlier.
Their crunch was unnaturally loud and I cringed. Swallowing solids felt foreign and awkward but I forced it all down with another gulp of lukewarm coffee. Eating had begun to disgust me, but I couldnât risk passing out. I had to stay awake. It was my only way out.
I forced myself to focus and keep alert the best way I knew how.
I turned off the lamp and sat back down to let the bulb cool. There were shapes in the dark, masses I no longer recognized as sofa, chair, desk, boxes. They looked to be very slowly moving, in silent unison, toward me. Circling. Black shapes blocking all the exits. I tried not to move. My arms and neck prickled.
Is that you?
Concentrate! There isnât much time.
I opened the drawer next to me and without needing to see, removed a small cardboard box. It held a red light bulb and I set it on the desk before me. I unscrewed the still-warm bulb from the lamp and replaced it with the red one. I switched the lamp back on and the room glowed hotly.
Next I took all the contents from the same drawer and set the stack of paper and envelopes and notebooks on the floor. I lifted a board from the drawer, revealing the false bottom that Iâd created, just like the one Lenora had built in her dresser a decade before. I gently took out another box and set it on the desk. In it was a sampling of my favourite implements: box cutters, penknife, razor blade.
I smiled. I soaked a tissue in rubbing alcohol and wiped down each of them. This would energize me, this would keep me awake. I just had to choose which. My hands shook from all the coffee. The thin, braided bracelet bounced lightly around my wrist. I ran my
â Thanks for the ride. As they get out, the boy rolls down his window and Lenora leans in toward him, and they murmur to each other, smiling. Then she waves her arm toward Emily.
â Sorry about all this. She grabs her sisterâs school bag and carries it the rest of the way home for her.
â Youâre not going to mention this to Mom or Dad when we get inside, are you?
Emily is not a tattletale. Sometimes she forgets that sheâs not supposed to mention certain things and talks too much, but she doesnât believe in ratting on her sister. Lenora always has a good reason for everything, even if it seems wrong at first. One day, soon, she will be able to fend for herself, but for now, she owes Lenora, and Lenora knows it. They will keep certain things from their parents, and Emily will not be a threat. They will protect each other.
Emily shakes her head, no longer crying, and pictures Tammyâs back, her jacket flailing in the wind as she slumped away. Maybe Tammy will never make fun of her again. Maybe she will finally be left alone.
Emily wonders if Jehovah made Lenora show up like that, just in time.
5
THE BASEMENT WAS COLD AND dark. I sat hunched and cramped in a small arc of yellow light from a desk lamp. Outside, the wind wailed and shoved the snow into drifts against the house. It had snowed for two days; school was cancelled and there werenât enough ploughs to keep all the roads clear. I had brought the coffee maker down with me, and the air smelled acrid and sharp. I had no need to venture upstairs. My stomach contracted and twisted in on itself but I ignored it. Hunger helped keep me awake. I hadnât slept for a couple of nights. The snow blocked the light from the windows and I was losing track of the days.
I yawned in spite of myself. The clock read 3:02 a.m. I still had a lot of studying to do for geography and history and English literature. Exams were two days away. I had to stay awake. I pushed back my chair and stood up, stretched, shook my limbs. The room tilted and began to lurch and spin. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision. I grabbed the side of the desk and rested my hands on my knees. Better. I breathed and decided I could have some of the carrot sticks Iâd brought down earlier.
Their crunch was unnaturally loud and I cringed. Swallowing solids felt foreign and awkward but I forced it all down with another gulp of lukewarm coffee. Eating had begun to disgust me, but I couldnât risk passing out. I had to stay awake. It was my only way out.
I forced myself to focus and keep alert the best way I knew how.
I turned off the lamp and sat back down to let the bulb cool. There were shapes in the dark, masses I no longer recognized as sofa, chair, desk, boxes. They looked to be very slowly moving, in silent unison, toward me. Circling. Black shapes blocking all the exits. I tried not to move. My arms and neck prickled.
Is that you?
Concentrate! There isnât much time.
I opened the drawer next to me and without needing to see, removed a small cardboard box. It held a red light bulb and I set it on the desk before me. I unscrewed the still-warm bulb from the lamp and replaced it with the red one. I switched the lamp back on and the room glowed hotly.
Next I took all the contents from the same drawer and set the stack of paper and envelopes and notebooks on the floor. I lifted a board from the drawer, revealing the false bottom that Iâd created, just like the one Lenora had built in her dresser a decade before. I gently took out another box and set it on the desk. In it was a sampling of my favourite implements: box cutters, penknife, razor blade.
I smiled. I soaked a tissue in rubbing alcohol and wiped down each of them. This would energize me, this would keep me awake. I just had to choose which. My hands shook from all the coffee. The thin, braided bracelet bounced lightly around my wrist. I ran my
Readers choose
Tiffany Clare
Rebecca Ethington
Lloyd Alexander
Chris Roberson
J.r. Roberts
Rochelle B. Weinstein
Susan Wittig Albert
Michael Brunsfeld
Delilah Devlin
Carrie Williams