OCR Text |
Show from home and Laura says that the girls in private schools are always very rich or very bright or very minority." "Well you're very bright...and coming from Idaho where your father was dry farmer, believe me, you're very minority," laughed Mrs. Long. Her mother always managed to be funny, even in the most devastating situations. Kim stared out the window at the endless flaxen fields. For the next little while, she said nothing more about her worries. Once, she thought she saw a tear rolling down her mother's cheek, but she quickly looked away so her mother wouldn't see that she had noticed. In Sacramento her mom stopped the car at a park near the state capitol and unloaded a wicker picnic basket onto a checked tablecloth she had spread out under a tree. From tin foil wrap she took fried chicken and carrot sticks and whole wheat bread with butter and placed them on paper plates. Then she poured orange juice into a small paper cup, and handed it to Kim. "Thanks," said Kim, hardly any hungrier than when she left home that morning. "How 'bout a chicken leg," said her mother, offering a plate filled with crisp chicken. Kim shook her head. "No thanks." "Honey, you've got to eat to keep up your strength." She really much hungrier than she had been that morning, but her mother had spent hours fixing the food, and she hated to hurt her feelings, so she took a chicken 10 |