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#Post#: 61--------------------------------------------------
Hello Mom
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: December 20, 2019, 9:39 am
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Marion sat on the stoop outside Papke-Sienko Hall. The air was
hot and humid and over the hill that led to more, endless
suburbia, gray clouds were starting to gather. There was still
no rain, and might be no rain all day. It was a good time to
text her mother or maybe her dad. Zia was inside registering. It
was too late for concerned adults to send a loitering teen to
study hall. When Zia got through they could have a private
lunch, swim, and then there would be family dinner and a station
party tonight.
"Mom, you there?" the conversation began. There was not an
immediate answer. Mom could be doing chores or at "group," or
whatever other rehab activities the sober home had, if it had
them. She could also be off getting in trouble, though that was
less likely in broad daylight.
"Tomorrow," I'll be back at school. "Tomorrow, my life will be
normal again. School will be better than it was in stinking
Malta. At least no one tells me to be kind to Uncle Niles and
Aunt Judith. If anything, my parents hate them more than I do,
and they have good reason."
Marion checked her messages again. Crickets. She dragged out her
earbuds and put Spotify on. Several songs came and went. There
was no sign of Zia. "First no Mom, but that had an explanation
and now no Zia...Maybe the computers went down." Marion imagined
a super long line for her 3:15pm registration slot. Another song
came and went. It was past 12pm now. The staff were supposed to
go to lunch and so were the kids.
"What are you doing here?" a mature lady who wore bluejeans to
make her look young asked. "Waiting for my friend to come out.
She's registering."
"We're on lunch break."
"I get that. Tell me," Marion asked. "Can a kid sneak out the
back door or just go out the back door?" That would explain
where Zia went and that she was probably waiting at
Landon-Burchard-Durren and wondering what became of Marion.
"There's just one entrance open today. We're not in session."
"Well, maybe my friend got sick in the bathroom then. Can I go
in and look for her."
"Who is your friend."
"Zia Shabani. She's African American... well sort of. She's from
Kenya."
"I know who you mean. Go inside and just tell them you don't
register until later."
"Thanks.." Marion bolted into the building. Registration was up
on the third floor, in two double classrooms that had the
partitions pulled back and laptops set up on lab benches in one
room and seminar tables in another. Zia was in the room with the
seminar tables. Next to her an older woman talked on a cell
phone, her white Brillo, that served as hair bobbed along with
her head.
"We gave the computer the code for Kikuyu. It's 12999,
'languages -- other.' It keeps saying code unknown...yes, I can
hold."
Zia turned a retched face to Marion. "Go to lunch," was the
unhappy girl's greeting. "I'll wait for you," Marion replied and
took a seat.
White Brillo looked up from her phone. "We're closed for lunch."
"I'm just here to wait for my friend."
More minutes passed. "Yes," White Brillo answered. "I can do
that. '12991 languages African, got it.... OK, Zia it's 12991
languages African."
"The site timed out," Zia complained.
"Hit F5 and tell it you want to resesnd."
"OK, now put in that code.... hit submit.... good. I bet you're
hungry."
"Not really," Zia answered.
"Well congratulations on getting registered. I hope you enjoy
taking Kikuyu."
"I'm looking forward to it," Zia smiled.
"I hope it's easier for you," Zia told Marion when they emerged
into the sunshine. The clouds were now forming piles over the
suburban sprawl that had grown old enough to feature large,
thick trunked trees. "I'm registering at 3:15 remember," Marion
quipped.
"There are kids registering at 4:45."
"Anyone in our suite get that time?"
"No, I think you're the latest."
"Hopefully, this will be as bad as my luck gets," Marion
answered and then remembered to check her messages.
"Marion where are you?" her mother asked.
"I was waiting with a friend to get registered," Marion typed
back.
"Are you registered yet?"
"I don't go until 3:15"
"How come?"
"Random times. Like they pulled mine out of a hat."
"Did you complain?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because there's no point. I'll wait for something really bad to
complain about."
"If you don't complain people will walk all over you."
"If you complain all the time it's not good either," Marion
answered and she hoped the conversation would end there.
"You're not planning to escape tonight?"
"Not tonight," Mom assured Marion. "We have group and pee tests
in the morning. Dad wants to fly under the radar for a while.
We're only here until November. After that maybe we come up
north."
"Eyes on the prize Mom."
"What's that supposed to mean."
"I don't want you and Dad in trouble again for a while."
"Well I want to stay out of trouble too. It's a matter of not
being caught."
Marion couldn't argue with that though the easiest way not to
get caught was to not look for trouble in the first place.
#Post#: 65--------------------------------------------------
Re: Hello Mom
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: December 22, 2019, 5:37 pm
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Marion pulled stepped out of Rapinoe-McConolly-Brinker and found
that the sky had turned gray and weepy. "Why did I bother to dry
off so carefully?" she thought. She did not check her cell pone.
Instead, she sprinted through the downpour into Papke-Sienko
where there was a line on the third floor. An older lady with
tits like lethal weapons under a white, textured, sleeveless
blouse poked her face out of one of the double classrooms and
announced to the line that there were computer issues and the
wait would be ten minutes.
"If you are waiting for a fifteen minute registration slot, ten
minutes is a very long time," Marion realized. She found her
cell phone and checked her messages.
"Marion, Police visited our sober home," her mother led off.
"We're trying to pass our tests and get this shit over with, so
we were fine, except they tore up our rooms."
"Lenny got arrested. We won't be going out much, since he had a
car and we don't."
Dad had texted: "Nothing to worry about. Our rooms passed
inspection. Probably we'll get moved to a different home since
our minders will consider this one a bad influence. Actually,
they're all the same."
Marion told herself that her parents made their own temptation,
and did not need anyone to lead them into it.They were just
trying to get sprung. As long as that court date hung over their
heads, they would probably be OK. Hopefully, they would be able
to travel out of state after that and move to Malta or maybe to
Westchester County. Malta, Marion realized, might be a lost
cause for them. Nestor, Liza, and Jason were not one bit loyal.
They could keep Uncle Niles and Aunt Judith, and the vultures of
an aunt and uncle could keep the stupid, younger siblings too.
Marion thought about calling or texting the lawyer Uncle Niles
and Aunt Judith had found for her parents. Then she realized
that with adults, email was a better choice. "Hey move your
butt!" snarled a boy parked behind Marion. They were inching
closer to the library.
"I guess I have to register first," Marion thought wearily.
Registration felt like a chore, because it was one. She checked
to see if there was an opening in general art in the alternative
spot for electives. There was one opening left. She wondered if
Zia had taken one of the openings. She remembered Zia dutifully
swimming kick board laps and putting as much sweat into it as
one can put into anything done in chlorinated water. Yes, Zia
had grabbed a place in art class. That meant, Marion, had a
small piece of luck.
She waited for her registration to go through. The school lap
top whirred and Marion realized it had hung. There might not
even be that place in art. The computers, after all were pretty
ephed up. The lady with pointy breasts, came over to check.
"It's just spinning," complained Zia.
Bullet breasts hit the F5 key several times. Nothing happened,
and then a warning pop up appeared. "Need to resend data."
"Click OK," bullets for breasts advised. Marion clicked OK. The
computer hung again but then the registration went through.
"It's just slow that's all."
"Is it really through?" asked Marion.
"Open your app. You'll see your schedule."
Marion checked. She had art. Zia had art. Now if Niles and
Judith's lawyer didn't move her parents somewhere godawful,
Marion would have one humongous, lucky streak.
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