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Show stereo tightly in her hand-and didn't turn around until Miss Hawkins was driving out through the brick gateposts, certain she would dissolve if she looked back to see Pilar waving good bye on the steps of the school. Her flight was forty five minutes late. But she didn't mind because it gave her a chance to unwind and collect her emotions back into one piece. The terminal was jammed with masses of people, like bumper cars, going in dozen different directions-tired mothers with whining babies, business men in tan trench coats, and plump grandmother types with flowery, loose fitting dresses and leis around their necks. While she sat in a boarding area on a hard orange chair waiting for her plane to leave, she remembered the advice her mother used to give her. "Always carry a spare tire, a dream to keep you going when life has gone flat." Life hadn't gone entirely flat for her, but she wasn't sure she could take one more knock without collapsing. Her feelings about going home kept see-sawing. One minute she could smell the fresh spruce tree her mother would have already decorated in the living room and feel the heat of the flickering fire as she lay on the hook rug listening to Bing Crosby croon White Christmas. But then she would think back of the esidence Hall at Miss Putnam's. The boarders had decorated the main hall with garland over the doorways and she herself had fastened red bows to the garland on the wrought iron bannister. There was a large tree in the dining room decorated with red lights and 157 |
