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Show Fair Forever 11 The guy nods in agreement. Three pelicans fly by, white and black and low to the water, one following another. The last peels off and rises to Beacon 9. The man stretches his back and looks toward the shore. I wait for him to turn and pull the starter on his motor. He's tired, I can tell. Instead he leans back and I'm thinking he'll ask more about Amanda. But he asks, "So what's so wrong at school? Why are you afraid to go back?" I'm surprised by the question. I frown like the thought is a million miles from my mind. "I'm not afraid!" I insist. "I just don't want to go back." My voice is sharp. Loud. Lifting my oars, I consider rowing home, or rowing toward the lighthouse, or just drifting away. I look at my watch. "How long are you staying?" My question is abrupt! Rude. The old guy looks me over slowly, studying my eyes, my jaw. He draws his conclusions and he tells them point blank. "It's tough going back when you've been away for so long. Hard to fit in. Hard to get kids to stop asking questions." He points to my chest. "None of their business really, but you know they'll ask. Yup, they'll ask." He nods as he speaks, sure of the future. "What will you tell them?" I feel my stomach lurch, climb to my throat. I hate that question, that idea, that vision of sitting at lunch circled by strangers, all of them staring like I've stolen someone's heart. I decide to leave, escape before I have to do any more explaining. Gripping my oars, I face my boat toward the lighthouse. My hands are stinging, my back tight. I look at my house and wonder if Mom is still watching. |