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Show 82 Dyna wondered if he'd write this year. Used to be he'd send a few extra bucks at Christmas, beyond the forty dollars a month, but she guessed he was as hard up as they were. "He never could keep a job," she'd heard Gram complain. "Worthless as tits on a boar hog," was the way Grandpa put it when he forgot to send Dyna's support money. Then the medley of old songs concluded with "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and Dyna nearly came unglued. If the choir hadn't ended on a merry note, with twelve goofy scenes being acted out front, she'd have gone into a real slump. "The Twelve Days of Christmas" got funnier and funnier as it went along until everyone in the audience was whooping and hollering. The assembly was dismissed with the final bell of the day. Officially, now, Christmas vacation was underway. Two whole weeks, Dyna sighed as she moved from the darkened auditorium into the bright light of mid-afternoon. Wish _I had £ job. Dyna joined the throngs of students moving down the stairs and into the locker corridors. The sun, glinting off the snow, flooded the school halls with weird window patterns that bent at the floor and climbed the adjoining lockers. For the first time in her life, she hated to leave school. She wouldn't see anyone for two long weeks. They'd have their skiing party, the rest of the kids in creative writing, and they might even go up to Simpson's apartment. She'd invited them to drop in to help initiate her new gas log. Once Lisa talked about taking Dyna to the Guadaloupe Center for Mexican food where her mother worked, but Dyna figured she never would. "See you, Suggs," Mike Vandermeide tapped her on the shoulder going the other way. "Merry Christmas!" she sang out. Well, hell. She squared her shoulders, talking herself into a better mood. "God helps those who help themselves!" Gram had it framed and hanging in the kitchen. It had to be true! Dyna got off the city bus half a mile from her stop. There was a pizza place up a couple of blocks that she'd been thinking about ever since her baby-sitting job dried up. She couldn't figure it. Had Mrs. Simpson quit going out or what? Maybe Dyna had let Timmy stay up too late or forgotten to wash the tub after his bath or something. Well, |