LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

want more. I want a career. I almost feel like Ariel in The Little Mermaid; I want to change my tail for legs so I can run and dance and be something more than confined to the small-town world of Mexia, Texas. There’s nothing here. Not for me.

      “Mama, I love you and I loved growing up here. But I’ve grown out of this town. I need more. I need –”

      “Now, bite your tongue, little miss. I’ve done raised you better than that. Ain’t nobody but a president going to be too big for this town. Mexia is a nice place. Did you forget we got the Target last year?” She’s got both hands gripping her hips. Not a good sign, but I can’t let this go.

      “Yes, mama. But I want more than Target. I want to explore –”

      “Well, now, hold on a minute, Sahara Smith. Are you saying you want to go an’ be like Sacajawea and lead an exploration or something?” She wipes some of her strawberry-blonde hair off her face.

      I laugh but quickly silence it under my mama’s watchful eye. “No, mama. I’m just saying I want to experience something outside of Mexia.”

      “Hmm. Outside of me. Is that it?” Her hands are back on her hips and her chin is jutted out. This is not going to end well.

      “No, Mama, I will miss you. I just want to see what’s in the world besides Mexia.”

      “Then open up a book or click-clack on that computer of yours. You can see all over the world on that contraption, can’t you now?” She points at my computer. The computer that I just received a great email on, but that’s not being received by my mama in the same way. She’s not opening up her arms to the idea at all but I’ve already decided.

      “Yes, but it’s not the same thing. I want to see it for myself. I want to really be there. Not just see it on the screen.”

      “I see.” She lets the “e” linger in the air and leaves me alone in our small kitchen that’s only big enough for two people to stand side by side, and now I’m standing all alone.

      I’ve never been so alone. And my mama is still in our single wide. But it is so empty. The silence is louder than the sound of a cereal box being opened for the first time. The crunching. The tearing. It’s like my heart is being opened up but no milk-and-sugar-coated treats are being poured out. It’s just pain. Pure pain. It hurts bad. I need my mama. I need her to want this for me, too. Not to be against it or dismissive of it. I want her full-on support. I want her to make an afghan that reads “Go, Sahara, go” and I want her to really mean it. I want to know my mama believes in me. But this is silly, like most of my thoughts. My mama has never been a big supporter of Sahara or her ideas. And I’m sure she has already filed this into a compartment labeled Sahara’s failures. She had probably already rubber-stamped it so even before I began.

      I shake my head as if I can shake off this sadness and sudden sensation of failure that is brimming over inside of me. But I’m not going to go there. No. Because I have a plan. Well, I have a semi-plan. I’ve been offered the job but my mama was right. I need a place to stay. I need to figure out if they have housing or maybe a discount for students at the factory. Shoot, I don’t even know. I’d better dig through my paperwork and find some answers. I step into my room and the sounds of my mama on the phone are coming through my wall. Granted, the wall is paper-thin. I can hear when my mama sighs in the next room. To overhear a phone conversation is not unusual. But this one is different. I’m not sure who she is talking to but it doesn’t sound like my mama’s normal voice. She tickers between a sweet tone and a commanding one. It sounds like she is trying to prove a point and win a battle. But she keeps back-peddling and if there is one thing my mama isn’t, it’s a back peddler. Who in all the great state of Texas could she be talking to? I tiptoe out of my room and sure enough her door is a bit cracked. I edge closer to it and it swings open.

      “Well, now, Little Miss Career is being a nosey Nan? Sahara Smith, I know by the good Lord above I have raised you better than that.” She taps her foot on the floor. Her hands are pressed hard against her hips. This is my mama’s serious business stance. Shoot. I don’t want to add to the grief she’s already feeling for me. Now she is madder than a hive of bees that just got knocked off a maple tree.

      “I’m sorry, Mama, I, um, didn’t realize you were on the phone.” I press my lips together because lord knows if I open my mouth another lie might fall out, and one is enough for a lifetime, especially told to my mama.

      “You did not just lie to your mama, did you, Sahara? Shameful, Sahara, downright shameful. I tell you what. Why don’t you go and gather the clothes from the line for us? And then swing on over to Ms. Jenkins and see if she needs her floor scrubbed again?”

      “Yes, Mama.” I shuffle outside and take all of our clothes off the line. I’m faster with our undergarments. I can’t believe my mama is still hanging them out here. I’m too old for our neighbors to see what I’ve got on underneath my clothes. That’s just not even right. Not one bit.

      After I scrub down Ms. Jenkins’ kitchen, I make my way back to our home. Mama is not on the porch as I would have expected, or in the kitchen. I search the house. Which is not much of a search as the whole trailer is smaller than a public restroom with four stalls.

      Mama is in her room, sitting on her bed, flipping through some book.

      “Hey, Mama, I’m sorry about before.”

      She slams the book shut and glares up at me like she’s seen a real ghost, not like Casper or anything cartooney.

      “Hush now, Sahara, we’ve got too much to contend with to live in the past.” In one swift motion she is grabbing some big old suitcase from under her bed. “Now, here, you use this for your clothes. I’ve got you settled up to stay with an old family friend.”

      “What? You found me a place to stay?” I clutch my chest hoping my heart doesn’t burst through my skin and hit my mama in the face or something crazy, like in one of those special effects movies. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Did my mama really just say she found me a place to stay?

      “Yes, Sahara. Now let’s get you packed up. When does that training class start again?”

      “Um… on Monday. Yes, Monday morning at eight a.m.”

      “Well, what are you standing still for? You’ve got more things to do than Aunt Biddy on the first day of spring and she’s canning up her vegetables for the winter. Get to it now.”

      I take in a deep breath. The blood in my brain is rushing around. Like I just finished a race. But in reality it’s because I’m actually doing this. I’m leaving, and my mama is putting forth an effort to help me.

      I skedaddle out of the room with the suitcase in my hand. I dig through my closet and begin filling up the case with all the outfits I think I’ll need – which is basically everything I own. Because I don’t have an armoire full of clothes, or a wardrobe, or anything fancy like that. I head back to my mama’s room. She’s got out her handkerchief and is dabbing under her eye.

      “You all right, Mama?”

      “Yes, of course. You done packing?”

      “I was wondering if I could take the bluebonnet bell with me?” I didn’t get it from the living room where it’s sat my entire life because I didn’t want to jinx it by touching it or moving it.

      “The bluebonnet bell?” My mama gasps as if I had asked if I could hitch our trailer to the back of my car and take it with me. It’s just a ceramic bell and, though it isn’t worth much, it’s something I’ve always treasured. It’s something I see like a good luck charm, in a way. Whenever I had a big test at school I would swish by it real fast and blink my eyes and sure enough I always passed my test with flying colors.

      “No, Sahara, that stays with the house. If you want a bluebonnet bell you’re going to have to earn that on your own.” My mama shakes her head and pushes past me. We’re still in the same house but it seems like there are already miles and miles between us. What will it be like when I’m really gone?

Скачать книгу