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#Post#: 104--------------------------------------------------
It Takes Six Days
DIR By: StoryGod
Date: January 4, 2020, 7:42 pm
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Marion sat down from putting a geometry proof on the white
board. Today it made no difference if the geometry teacher, Mr.
DiFrancis, made her put her cell phone in a magnetic sleeve for
the duration of the class. Her cell phone was useless for
reaching two parents imprisoned in a new, strict sober home for
offenses they did not commit. "Never has walking the straight
and narrow met with such a slap in the face," thought Marion for
the hundredth time.
Zia who sat next to her, grinned widely. "Nice job Marion,"
offered Mr. DiFrancis. Mornings were English, geometry, and
finally either gym or art. That meant swimming. Marion still
couldn't dive, but she could do geometry. If she could trade one
for the other, she wouldn't. Most of this class was ninth
graders, and some of them, were super motivated. They came from
New England, New York City, places known for good, academically
tough schools. Geometry class made Marion feel, small, young,
and outclassed despite moments of triumph at the white board.
Marion felt bad she would not see most of her geometry
classmates until right after lunch in biology class where the
atmosphere was grim. There were several kids who wanted to be
doctors, though how you could know that at fourteen was beyond
her. Marion sometimes wondered if those kids were certain about
their future because they had two parents safe and sound. When
your life is chaos, the future doesn't exist.
"My plate is too full to have a distant future. I want to
graduate from high school and go to college and get good grades
and do well, but.... I don't even know what I want to study in
college. Ask me tomorrow. Better yet, ask me in six days. It
takes three days for a snail mail letter to reach Florida. It
takes three days for a letter to come from Florida to
Westchester County. That makes six days, nearly a week. How am I
going to wait that long."
"What do you think of Earla's answer?" Mr. DiFrancis brought
Marion out of herself. She glanced at the answer on the board.
It was correct more or less though Earla had an odd way of not
writing out the words for the problem as if the math solved
itself in her head without having to start out as words. Marion
decided it was not her time to answer.
Zia went to the board next. Like Marion, Zia solved everything
with words first and she had beautiful printing, super legible.
Marion imagined her roommate practicing her penmenship and
singing as she did when she ironed a skirt for church. Some
things about Zia were just totally beautiful.
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