If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton, you may as well make it dance.

George Bernard Shaw

THEN: Age Eleven

he front door window was broken. I could see the clear, jagged edges that held to the frame. Slowly I got off my bike. Rolled it to the tree next to the house, my hands turning white from gripping the handlebars. I leaned my bike against the trunk, my eyes still on the window. I moved closer, then closer. My shoes crushed the glass on the ground into smaller pieces. Inspecting the shards that clung to the frame, I paused only for a few seconds before I turned the doorknob and walked inside. The drops on the linoleum oor were round. In sixth-grade art class I had tried, again and again, to draw a perfect circle. I couldnt do it without the compass attached to my pencil, stabbing the paper in the center. My freehand circles were always wavy, lopsided. I didnt think it was possible to make a perfect circle without the compass. But here, right in front of me, were perfectly round, bright red droplets. Mom always said that we had thin blood. Thats how I knew it was one of us.
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~1~

I could have gone back outside. Waited at a neighbors until I was sure Dad was home from work. He was used to blood. He was used to corpses. But I didnt. I dont know why, but I followed the droplets. They were a much better trail than breadcrumbs. The blood would stain the oor, stain the carpet. It wouldnt be picked by birds. Wed always be able to follow it. The sharp sounds of an argument and a nasty smell body odor and alcohol, and another that I couldnt recognizestopped me for a moment. Maybe I should have left then. Curiosity gave me bravery. I turned the corner.

ANNA SHINODA ~2~

Chapter 1:

Family Skeleton
NOW

Skeletons dont like to stay in closets. Most families try to lock them tightly away, buried beneath smiles and posed family pictures. But our Family Skeleton follows me closely with his long, graceful stride. I guess people in my town think they have a pretty clear picture of Skeleton. Their whispers have haunted me most of the seventeen years of my life, stalking me almost as closely as he does: prison, prison, prison. Shame, shame, shame. They dont see him like I do. His eye sockets expand and shrink. His cartoon jaw morphs from smiles to frowns, from serious to surprise. Hes at least six feet tall, and when his bones stretch, he can dunk a basketball without his big toe coming off the ground. Hes quite talented. When he wants to relax, he lounges in a silk smoking jacket with a Cuban cigar and drinks brandy from a warm snifter. He might have a drinking problem, but I dont want to be presumptuous. I think Mom, Dad, Peter, and Luke see Skeleton
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~3~

clearly. After all, they are my family. Although I cant be sure, since Mom and Dad rarely talk about him, and Peter leaves the room whenever he appears. Skeleton is the constant reminder of the crimes committed by my brother Luke. Im used to Skeletons taunts, his lanky ngers pointing, the click of his bones when he cartwheels across the room. Im used to him reminding me he will always be a part of my life story. He will always be there to warn that every action has a reaction, every crime has a consequence. And the more he hangs around, the more my reputation decays. Skeleton didnt always existour family photo album shows me what reality was like before he started to appear. But I was too young then to own that memory now, a pre-Skeleton memory. My reality, my memories are like spinning pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that never make a complete picture. And I cant help but think, maybe, if Skeleton would go away, we could have perfect again.

ANNA SHINODA ~4~

Chapter 2:

What Perfect Looked Like

Our family photo album always sat in the living room on the lower shelf of the square dark wood coffee table, available for anyone to look at anytime. When I did, I always turned to the same pagethe pictures giving me the memory I didnt have, the memory of what perfect felt like. In the photos I am two years old, and my little-girl curls peek from under the brim of a pink sun hat. Warm sand is under my legs. Mom sits next to me in a navy-blue bathing suit and bug-eyed sunglasses, with a bright yellow shovel and bucket between us. I look out toward the water with a fascinated stare at Dad; Luke, age fourteen; and Peter, age sixall swimmingmy hands together in a clap. Under the picture, my mother wrote in swirling handwriting: Clare couldnt wait to get into the water with her brothers! The next picture was an action shot of Dad holding me in the lake, both hands splashing, water drops suspended in air, my eyes shut and mouth open in surprised bliss. Luke is mid-laugh with an arm around Peter as Lukes hand shields them both from the splash.
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~5~

There was a photo of Luke and Peter, kneeling next to a large sand castleThe Masterpiece!Peter lling the moat with water from the yellow bucket. Squatting next to Luke, I pull his arm with one hand while pointing at the rising water with the other. The last was a group shot of Mom and Dad kneeling behind us, me squinting and smiling between my brothers. With the lake as the background, the descending sun on our faces left our shadows long in the sand. Mom wrote: None of us wanted the day to end! That family, together and happy, not wanting the day to end, is one I know only from those pictures. Two years later Luke went away. My rst real memory was of a nightmare. A nightmare in full color. The air an icy blue. There was the housejust like ours, even with our yellow-ower cups. It was so quiet, the refrigerator didnt even growl. I walked through the halls, feeling the carpet squish between my toes as I called for my parents, for Peter and Luke. The sound was pulled into the walls. I looked up, up at Moms pictures. My bare toe hit something solid and cold. Peter. Frozen. Frozen with his eyelids open, the eyeballs missing. Ran through the house. Found Mom, then Dad. All frozen. All missing eyes. When I put my hand to my face, my skin was hard and cold. My ngers found the holes where my eyes had once been. I stopped moving, my feet ice-cubed in the carpet. Where was Luke? I waited for him to come save us.
ANNA SHINODA ~6~

He never did. Grandma Tovin was staying with us when I had that nightmare. I barely have any other memories of her, since she died when I was ve. That night she woke me up and held me. My hands clutched the side of her nightgown and wouldnt let go. Grandma pulled her favorite rosary out of her pocketthe one with dark red beadsand told me that when she had a bad dream, she liked to pray. So together we said Hail Marys, my ngers rubbing each bead. When we were done, I was still so scared, she let me sleep on the hide-a-bed in the living room with her for the rest of the night. But I didnt want Grandmaor Mom or Dad or Peter. I wanted Luke, and Luke was gone. The next morning Grandma told Dad that I must have somehow watched one of his garbage scary movies. And that sweets before bed cause nightmares. When Skeleton heard this, he bent in laughter, holding his ribs so they wouldnt shake off. Then, done laughing, he pointed proudly at himself. Grandma ignored Skeleton, hung her favorite rosary in my room. She told me that if I had another nightmare and she wasnt there, I could hold it and pray and it would protect me. But it didnt work. The nightmares kept coming. And Luke was never there to save me.

LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~7~

Chapter 3:

Interruption
NOW

When you mince the garlic, make sure its really tiny, my mother says as she hands me a cutting board. I pull a knife from the top drawer. Whats for dinner? Chicken and rice with broccoli. After youre done with the garlic, chop half an onion. Sounds good. I study Mom for a second. Shes concentrating on the rice, slowly stirring it in the pan to coat each kernel evenly with olive oil. Her brow is smooth. Shoulders back and relaxed. Its a good time to ask. I saw Dreas mom today at school. She told me more about their trip this summerthe one where theyre touring colleges. I start slowly, peeling the dry skin off the garlic clove. Two weeks, six campuses. All in California and Oregon. They invited me along. Oh, Clare. I dont think so. She answers so quickly, like she didnt even listen to what I asked. Still. An I dont think so isnt a complete no. I try again. But, Mom. The knife slices effortlessly through the garlic. I stop to reposition my ngers out of the way.
ANNA SHINODA ~8~

Ive gotten a ton of brochures from different schools. Its confusing. I really need to see whats out there in person. What about your summer job and saving for college? Dont you think that is more important? I knew she was going to say that. I called Lucille Jordan and talked to her. She says that if we choose the right time, I can have two weeks off. And if I pick up extra shifts, it wont really affect how much I earn this summer. Mom looks down at my cutting board. The garlic needs to be little bit smaller. Then, And how much would this trip cost you? Transportation, food, lodging? Ms. P said theyre still working out all the details, but it wont cost too much. I dont have to worry about hotel rooms since well just get an extra cot for me. And shes driving, so Id just have to pitch in for gas. Mom wipes her hands on the kitchen towel. Clare Bear, I just dont see the point. There are perfectly good colleges within driving distance of here. Your money will go further if you live at home. Get your AA from the community college, like Peter. Then look at universities for the last two years. Its smarter, Clare. Dont waste your hard-earned money on a trip looking at schools we cant afford. Her voice lowers at the end, edging on compassion. I frown. It is logical. Financially the smartest thing to do is to stay at home and go to the local CC. I swallow that thought and hold it for a moment, allowing it to swirl inside me. I feel queasy. Almost instantly. Living at home until Im twenty.
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~9~

I just cant do it. I need to go on this trip. I need to get away. One last try. I take a second to compose my thoughts. Ready. Riiiinnng. Interrupted. Mom hands me her wooden spoon. Keep stirring the ricewhen its golden, add the chicken stock. She reaches for the phone. Maybe I can ask Dad. Maybe he could convince Mom. Yeah, right. Itll be canned lecture 101 about how theres a perfectly good school forty-ve minutes away. Yes, Ill accept the charges, Mom says. Its Luke. It has to be. Who else calls collect? The rice has turned from white to yellow, some of the grains already golden brown. Careful not to spill, I stir the chicken stock in as my mothers voice, suddenly bright, cries out, Luke? Hi! I tap her on the shoulder and quietly say, I want to say hello. She nods. Then points my attention to the stove. Individual bubbles slowly start to rise up though the rice. Boiling now. I stir it one last time and turn the heat down, covering the pan. A few days early? Thats wonderful! So Ill be there to pick you up on the twenty-seventh. Back to slicing, I grab an onion, smiling. It sounds like well be seeing Luke sooner than expected. What do you mean? Despite Moms even tone, the vein in her forehead has surfaced. I catch her eyes for a second. She turns to face the wall, as if that will keep me from hearing the rest of her conversation. Pretending
ANNA SHINODA ~10~

not to listen, I cut into the onion, letting the eye-burning odor release. Luke, I think its best if you come straight home. Who is this friend youre planning to stay with? I slice quickly, then stand back to give my eyes a break. What kind of work? Theres nothing left to prepare for dinner. Wanting to stay nearby, I wash the cutting board and knife, dgeting with drying it longer than I need to, taking in as much as I can from our kitchen side of the conversation. Yes, the job sounds like a good opportunity. But, Luke, dont you think it would be best to be with your family, not this so-called friend, who you dont know anything about? I want more information. I want to hear Lukes voice and nd out from him all the details. Cautiously I tap Mom on the shoulder. She waves me away. I take two steps toward the living room and stop to listen as she says, Fine. When will we see you? She sighs. Pauses. Stay out of trouble, and get home as soon as you can. I love you. Another pause. Good-bye. Before I even think to stop her, she hangs up the phone. Clare. Get back into this kitchen. Her tone is sharp. I did not say you were done helping me with dinner. Do you think these dishes are going to do themselves? I clench my jaw and return. Lower the dishwasher door and pull out the plates. The vein in her forehead is pulsating now. Any chance I had to convince her to let me go on the trip with Drea is now gone.
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~11~

Mom pulls out a pan, then slams the cabinet door. She should be happy. Getting out early and a job lined up? Isnt that a good thing? Even if Luke cant come home right away? Shes angry enough that I probably should keep quiet, but she got to talk to Luke and I didnt. Hows Luke? I ask. Fine. She drops the pan onto the stovetop. The clank echoes, lling the room. Hes getting out early? Thats good, right? Yes. She turns the burner on high; the ames shoot up, engulng the steel in wisps of blue. When will he be home? I dare to ask, stacking the plates as I put them away. Eventually. Im tired of her one-word answers. What kind of job did he get? Did he say when he was going to call back? I wanted to talk to him. I pout. You cant have everything you want, she practically yells at me. Olive oil and garlic and onions hit the pan, hissing from the heat. I clamp my mouth shut and start to load the bowls and cups piled in the sink, my own anger brewing. Mom could at least answer a few questions for me. Speaking of which, she continues, you will not be going with Drea and her mother this summer. No ifs, ands, or buts. And dont even think of asking your father. The subject is closed. Finish the dishes and get out of my kitchen. My mother continues to bang cabinet doors and slam drawers shut as she cooks. One call from Luke
ANNA SHINODA ~12~

could have put Mom in a better mood, then maybe I could have convinced her to let me go on this trip. I feel my anger shifting from Mom to Luke. He set her off and ruined my chances. On the way out of the kitchen, I make eye contact with Skeleton. He raises his hand in salutation. Just a little wave to let me know hes here. Hes been watching. I ignore him and hurry to my room. The ruckus in the kitchen slowly quiets to, at last, silence. I know the chicken is in the oven, the rice is simmering, the broccoli steaming. And I also know that Mom is now in the living room, standing in front of her Christmas ornament collection. Handcrafted by her father out of glass, silver, and crystal over open ame. Etched and tapped with ne details. Papa used the skills he had practiced for more than ten years to create the perfect ve ornaments as a gift for Granny when my mother was born. And when Luke was born, Granny passed the gift along to Mom. She leaves them out on the oak bookcase to admire year-round, displayed on a graceful miniature silver tree. Just above eye level, the perfect height for Mom to be able to unhook each ornament with ease and meticulously shine it before gently rehanging each treasure. She looks insane when she does itthe ritual of laying out ve different cloths and glass cleaners and vinegar, the tin of silver polish, the white gloves, the way the corners of her mouth tip up just slightly as her brow tilts down in concentration. Peter used to lick his ngers and leave a single print on each ornament. Then the two of us would bet each other
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~13~

M&Ms on how long it would take her to make them perfect again. I know she is staring at all ve ornaments now, noting the dust spots and smudges. She is checking her watch, maybe looking over her shoulder at the kitchen. The risk of ruining dinner will pull her away. But if Peter and I were to make a bet right now, Id put ten M&Ms down that the ornaments will be gleaming by tomorrow morning. Sitting on my bed, I glare at the stack of college brochures on my desk. Its ridiculous that Mom wont let me go on the trip. She probably thinks that by keeping me home, Ill end up doing exactly what she wants: living here and commuting to Crappy CC or Shithole State. Its not going to happen....But neither is the trip. No way will Mom change her mind. If Luke hadnt called, maybe I could have persuaded her. Or if he had called and said exactly what Mom wanted to hear: Im out early; I have a good job lined up and will be renting a house across the street from you, so youll always know what Im doing, and Ive met a nice Catholic girl to marry and start a family with. HA! Like that would ever happen. My cell phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from Drea: Still on? As planned, I text back, and toss my phone onto my bed. If Mom had said yes to the trip, I wouldnt have risked losing that opportunity by sneaking out tonight. Now...forget it. Im going. Only ve hours. Five hours until Im out of here. I hate this house and I hate my mom and I hate Luke
ANNA SHINODA ~14~

for calling at the wrong time. Wrong place at the wrong time. Luke is always in the wrong place at the wrong time. My ngers tap on my knees, little spikes of angry energy. Even watching my sh tranquilly swimming circles in my aquarium isnt doing anything to calm me down. To quiet my hands I grab a half-knitted beanie from my bedside table and squeeze the skein of mohair yarn. Snow white to contrast with Skyes black hair. I loop the yarn over the needle and start a new row of stitches. Ill be done with hers by tonight, which leaves just Dreas and Omars to go. Its weird, knitting hats when its so hot, with Beanie Day so many months off. But I need to get them done now, so I can knit blankets with the leftover yarn for the kids at the shelter before the temperature drops. The needles make a quiet click as each stitch slips off, reminding me of Granny sitting in her rocking chair when Papa was in one of his moods. Clicking and rockinga little island of calm making something beautiful. Click. Click. Click. I cast off the nal stitches, then go to my bookcase and grab the Knit Slouchy Beanies magazine I picked up at a yard sale for the pattern Im sure Drea will love. And there was one in there that Luke might like too. Luke. Luke will not be coming home immediately. Disappointment instantly swirls, overtaking any anger I had left. Its been so long since Ive seen him. Close to four years. Couldnt he at least come home for a visit? Just a quick one? Then start his new job? I know Im being selsh. If Luke came home, he
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~15~

could lose his opportunity. Hes twenty-nine years old. Hell need to make money. Need the structure of a schedule, as my father always says. Any job is important, but with the right job maybe hell stay out of prison, Skeleton will go away, the whispers will stop, and my favorite memories of Luke will snap together perfectly with the present, making a picture I can see and understand. It sounds impossible, but I have to hope. With the right job, this time it could be different.

ANNA SHINODA ~16~

Chapter 4:

Wins and Losses

Luke didnt have to work anymore, so we stayed at the lake late, wading into the water after the lifeguard had gone home. He carefully led me by the hand toward the forbidden side, the swamp. Mommy doesnt want me to go over here, I said, clutching Lukes hand tighter, feeling my toes sinking deep into the mud. And neither do the lifeguards. They blow their whistles whenever anyone gets too close. Do you know why they dont want us over here? Luke bent down, his nose touching mine. Because well drown, I told him, looking down at the water, embarrassed. I still cant swim. Most of my friends could at least dog-paddle. You cant? Luke asked. His mouth dropped open, like he was shocked by this information. Well, wanna learn right now? In the swamp? I crinkled my nose. Yuck. Okay. Later. But quit worrying. I wont let you drown. Luke gave my hand an extra squeeze. The truth isLuke led me farther into the swamp the best frogs are on this side of the lake. If you wanna
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~17~

win the Frog-Jumping Contest, this is the place to get em. Oohhh! I did want to win. I wanted to get the rstplace trophy, and the free tickets for the games booths, but mostly I wanted to be in the parade, riding in back of Lucille Jordans fancy convertible. Mandy Jordan took all her friends for a ride on her birthday. Not me. I wasnt invited to her party. Mandys friends said it felt like ying and that they were like movie stars. I wanted to try it too. And I could...if I won the Frog-Jumping Contest. Looking around, Luke pointed out different frogs, sleeping in the muck. Which one is the winner? he asked me. I scanned the mud. Pointed at the biggest frog I saw. Shhh. Luke signaled with one nger against his lip. Cautiously he lifted the frog out of the mud and into my hand. Its body was soft and slimy, and it didnt even try to get away. I watched the space under its chin get big and small, big and small. It was cute. Once wed waded back to shore, I carefully set the frog down on the grass. He took an instant gigantic leap, racing toward the lake. Lets name him Speedy! I said as Luke swooped in to pick him up just before the waters edge. He was fast! We could win! But as I put Speedy in my beach pail, adding some reeds from the lakeside, a rock, and some muddy water, I remembered Mom. Wont Mommy be mad? You know she doesnt like animals.
ANNA SHINODA ~18~

Dont worry, Squeakers. Luke winked at me. Ill talk to her. She wont be mad for long. When we brought Speedy home, Moms upper lip disappeared. Frogs are vile. Besides, youll kill it. What are you going to feed it? Luke, you will be returning the frog to the lake immediately. No ifs, ands, or buts. But, Ma, Luke protested. Ma. Let her keep it until Saturday. You know, the Frog-Jumping Contest at Patriot Days. We have a winner here. Peter looked into the pail. Doesnt look like a winner to me, he grumbled. I said no, Luke, she said, ignoring Peter. Come on, Ma, Luke cooed, wrapping an arm around her. Its only a few days. Moms angry forehead vein was slowly disappearing. Luke was doing it! He was convincing her it was okay. Peter put his nger in the pail and touched the frog, then picked him up. Back in the pail, Mom instructed. Peter dropped him back in. Heywatch it. We need to protect those legs! Luke warned. His brown eyes icked from Mom over to Dad, who was relaxing in front of the TV. Hey, Pop, Luke said, come look at what Clare and I found. Whats that? Dad pushed himself out of his easy chair with a grunt. Aha! A frog. I was on a walk this evening when I spotted one smashed on the road. A big one. Flatter than a potato chip. Guts everywhere. Thats how it goes. Frogs and cars just dont mix. I had a baggie
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~19~

in my pocket so I scooped it up. He grinned wickedly at me. Its in the back of my truck, if you want to see it.... Stop it! I covered my ears until Dad stopped talking. I really wish youd leave your work stories at work, Mom said, shaking her head. So, what do you think of this? She motioned to the frog with her hand. After inspecting it, Dad nodded. Looks like a ne jumper. Make sure you feed it a few crickets. Oh, and cover the pail with chicken wire so he doesnt escape. And so the raccoons dont get him. Dad had made the nal decision. We were keeping Speedy until after the race. Maybe . . . , I whispered softly to Speedy. Maybe if you win, Mommy will love you and let me keep you forever. After dinner, when Peter groaned to Luke that it wasnt fair that hed taken me to get a frog and not him, Luke told him he needed to toughen up. Then, putting Peter in a headlock, Luke wrestled him to the oor. I jumped up on the couch and put my hands over my face, peeking through my shaking ngers as I waited for it to be over, wishing for Mom and Dad to come in and break up the ght. Peter was laughing at rst, saying stop between giggles, his arms pushing and legs kicking. But then Luke sat on Peters belly, pinned his hands to the ground over his head with one hand, and started tapping on his chest with his other st. Peter wasnt laughing anymore. I cant breathe! Peter yelled.
ANNA SHINODA ~20~

Then how are you talking? Luke laughed. Stop! The tears came. Luke stopped. Later that night I overheard Mom talking to Dad. Hes too rough with him. He left a bruise on his chest! Peters only ten. And Luke is eighteenhes old enough to know better, Mom said. Its gotten worse. Hes learned violence there, more than anything else. Ill talk to him, Dad said. Saturday was hot. Lucille Jordan, the president of the chamber of commerce, hosed off the black asphalt several times before the race began, taking great care not to get one drop of water on her red checkered shirt and white shorts. I liked her outt. I didnt like mine. I was wearing boy clothes. I hadnt even been born yet when Luke had worn them, but I know he did, because there was a picture of him in the same red shorts and blue shirt on Moms desk. And the pocket in the shirt was stretched out and saggy from when Peter used to shove rocks into it. Why couldnt I have had sisters instead? Ready, set, and go. Speedy started hopping as soon as I set him down. Other frogs were jumping to the left and right. Some went backward. Not Speedy. He jumped straight down the asphalt. Past the nish line. Through the parking lot and into the stream just beyond. Luke and I ran after him, but Speedy had disappeared into the reeds and water. When I started to cry, Luke hugged me tight and said, Awww, Squeaks. Speedys gonna be real happy in that river. I bet he even nds a lady frog to be his girlfriend. He wiped my tears
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~21~

with the bottom of his T-shirt. Ive got an idea. After we get your trophy, Ill win you a goldsh. You can name it Speedy. No more tears. Just like always, Luke made me feel better. After Mom took a million pictures of me holding my shimmering frog trophy, it was time to check in for the parade. Finally I was going to get my turn in the convertible! Lucille Jordan was smiling so big, I could see her molars. Well, hello, Clare. Ready for your special ride? I nodded. Mandy and I will be up frontyou know my daughter, MandyI think youre in the same class this year. Lucilles smile seemed to be getting bigger. Mayor Bowmanour grand marshalland you get to ride in the back. Luke lifted me onto the back of the convertible. Hello there, little Miss Clare. Congratulations. Mayor Bowman was already in place. He tapped the seat next to him, inviting me to sit. Luke Tovin. Staying out of trouble, I hope? Skeleton arrived, leaping into the back of the car and taking the spot next to me. I looked at my shoes, wishing hed disappear. Yes, sir, I am, Luke replied as he opened the car door to climb in. Where are you going? Lucille asked him. Skeleton wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pressed his bony teeth to my cheek. I wiggled away as I
ANNA SHINODA ~22~

said, Luke helped me catch Speedy. Can he come too? Oh, Clare, sweetie. I dont think so. Lucilles mouth was smiling, but her blue eyes were worried. Skeleton mimicked her, his eye sockets getting wider and wider. No room. I moved as close to the mayor as I could. There was plenty of space if Skeleton moved out of the way. Look! I made room, I said. Lucille coughed, her face turned red. Skeleton motioned for her to lean in closer, to say more. Wringing her long ngers together, she stared at Luke. Then she moved right next to his ear and growled in a low voice only we could hear, Luke, do you really think that people want to see you in our parade? What Lucille said didnt make sense. Why wouldnt people want to see Luke in the parade? Uncomfortable, I slid away from the mayor and reached out for my brother, suddenly wishing I hadnt won the FrogJumping Contest. When he leaned over toward me, I whispered, Maybe we should let someone else ride in the parade. Naw, Squeaks, Luke said. You look good sitting there. He slowly stepped back, out of the car, and closed the door. With his hands up like a frame, he closed one eye and peered through the hole at me. Thats gonna make one pretty picture. He dropped his arms and scratched his head. Theres one problem. If I get into that car with you, Im not gonna be able to see you in the parade. He shrugged. Think you can ride by yourself so I can watch with Ma and Pop?
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~23~

Mayor Bowman patted my back and offered, Ill help you hold the trophy up. I looked at Mandy and Lucille. They didnt want Luke to be there. I was pretty sure they didnt want me to be there either. But the mayor was nice. And I really, really wanted to go for the ride. Okay, I told Luke. Well, then, lets get started, Lucille said as she sat in the drivers seat. Next year you should let the Patriot Days Queen ride in our car instead of the Frog-Jumping Contest winner, Mandy said from the front. Then she added under her breath, I bet she has warts too. Luke stuck his tongue out at Mandys hair, perfect red curls and all. Skeleton pulled a curl down, watched it bounce up. Pulled another. Watched it bounce. I wanted to laugh. But I also wanted him to stop. He already brought enough attention. You wave like the princess that you are, Luke said as he started to walk away. Look for me in the crowd, okay? Luke had said I was a princess. I sat up straight, cupped my ngers, and waved back and forth slowly. Just like all the famous people in the Rose Parade. I dont know if it really felt like ying, but I denitely felt like a movie star. By the time we headed home with my trophy and the four goldsh Luke had won for me, I forgot how uncomfortable Id been when Lucille had been mean to
ANNA SHINODA ~24~

Luke. And I forgot even more when Mom was excited to see the sh. We had aquariums back when your father and I were rst married. I bet I still have everything we need. Mom and Luke climbed the ladder to the forbidden attic and brought down a sh tank, complete with a heater, lter, fake plants, and rocks. Mom even agreed my room would be the best place for the sh. Luke, Peter, and I named them Speedy, Junior, Rex, and Clyde. I fell asleep watching them swim back and forth, back and forth. The best night-light ever. But the next morning Luke said he was getting restless. By the time the sun had set, hed left the house with one duffel bag of his stuff. When I cried, Mom told me, Adults arent supposed to live with their parents. Theyre supposed to keep a job and take care of themselves. Then, smoothing my hair, she added, Im sure hell visit soon. Skeleton shook his head. He was sorry to see Luke go too.

LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~25~

Chapter 5:

Sneaking Out
NOW

At dinner I keep waiting for Mom to mention Luke's call to Dad and Peter, but she steers the conversation to concentrate on what each of us did that day. Her voice is, in fact, unnaturally cheerful. Everything is set up joyful, joyful, joyful, but all I can feel is her underlying anxiety and unrealistic expectations for everything to be perfect. Id do anything to not have to sit through dinner with her. As our meal draws to a close, Peter stretches his long arms out in front of him, cracking his knuckles while he announces, Im going to be out late tonight. Dont wait up for me. I shift uncomfortably. He must be planning to go to the same party that I have to sneak out to attend. The difference is Moms set of rules. Hes allowed to be out all night. Im not even allowed to go. And where are you going? Mom asks. A bonre with my friends. He looks over to me, his thin lips curving into a smirk. Hes preparing to ruin my night. Are you done with your dish? I change the subject
ANNA SHINODA ~26~

and try to save myself by standing up and offering to take Dads plate. Yep. Here you go. What kind of bonre? No drugs or drinking, I presume. Mom pulls the conversation back to where I dont want it to be. No. Nothing like that, Peter lies. Hands me his plate. Its the unofcial bonre the juniors throw for the seniors. I freeze. Clare. Youre a junior. Youre going, right? No. I blink at him a few times. Jerk. Why is my discomfort his pleasure? Im beat from nals this week. Besides, it doesnt even start until after my curfew. Moms long stare could freeze an ocean. Shes deciding whether to believe me or not. Thats too bad, Peter says. Everyone else will be there. Mom, you should let her go. I dont think that is anyplace for a young woman to be. Moms answer snaps at the same time I say, Its okay. Id rather sleep. Ive only been sneaking out for the past nine months or so, but I know to do it right. There are rules to keep from getting caught. Rule number one: Never let parents know that there is any reason to sneak out. This means not asking permission to do anything that they may possibly say no to. But now I have a dilemma. Knowing that Mom and Dad are both aware of the party tonight, the only sure way to not get caught is to stay in. Which I would consider if it werent the end-of-the-year bonre, if I
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hadnt promised Drea Id be there, if Mom had agreed to let me go check out college campuses this summer, if Lukes phone call hadnt made Skeleton appear. Escaping to my bedroom isnt enough tonight. I need to get out. Thanks a lot, butthole, I hiss to Peter as we stand side by side loading the dishwasher. I peer toward Mom in the open adjacent living room. Shes polishing her crystal bell ornamentthat was fast. I bet she couldnt wait for dinner to end. Just doing my job as older brother. He lightly punches me in the arm. Besides, what if she had said yes? Then you could have gone without sneaking out. It would be liberating. You know thats never going to happen. You just screwed me, I say. He snaps the towel in the air, then tosses it onto the counter. On his way out of the kitchen, he turns. See you tonight, Clare. For me, sneaking out is never like in the movies. Theres no climbing out windows or tiptoeing down the hall past where my parents are sleeping, or where theyre entertaining or whatever in the adjoining living room. And I dont know anyone who thinks their parents are stupid enough to fall for tricks like putting a bunch of pillows down the middle of the bed to look like a body. After following my regular nighttime routine, I lie awake in bed listening to the sounds of our TV blasting.
ANNA SHINODA ~28~

At around ten forty-ve I hear Mom push my door open a crack and whisper good night. A half hour later Dad nally wakes up from his after-dinner TV nap and heads down the hall, stopping by my room to plant a kiss on my forehead while I pretend to be sound asleep. I wait until it is safe to assume they are both sleeping before I send a quick text message to Drea. Ready in 15. I get out of bed and change out of my pajamas into a tted tank top. Then I slide on my tightest jeans, checking my butt in the mirror. With a steady but quick hand, I apply my favorite green eye shadowDrea says it makes my brown eyes popand pull my hair back into a ponytail. I put on my sneakers and grab my black hoodie in case it gets cool. One last step before I leave my room. A note on my pillow: Mom and Dad, I couldnt sleep, so I went for a walk. Be back by 3:00 a.m. Getting caught sneaking out would be bad, but having the police called because my parents suspected a kidnapping would be worse. A lot worse. The front door is the farthest from my parents room, so thats the exit door I aim for. Im dodging creaks like they are bombs, being watchful of every step, every breath. Slipping out silently into the full-mooned night. Carefully I press the door shut. Freedom! Dreas headlights shine at the end of the block. But I still need to be quiet. My parents bedroom window is wide open, and my neighbors are practically spies for my mom and dad. I cross the street immediately, wanting to avoid Mrs. Brachetts eyes. Shes one of those weird nocturnal old
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ladies. Good thing I do; shes sitting next to her open window reading a book. I recross two doors downdont want to run into Rambo, who barks at anything that moves. Almost there. Lets go! I tell Drea as I jump into her car. Sneakout successful. I can relax until its time to sneak back in. We drive out of town, up the winding roads to the campgrounds. I glance over at Dreas curls and makeup. You look great. Well, I should. Ive been taming this hair for the last hour and a half. Dreas got one of those moms who would rather know her kids going to a party, even if there might be beer there. Her only rule is she insists on knowing where we are and that we call her if were not sober enough to drive home. I wish Ms. P were my mom. Who do you think will be there? I ask. EVERYONE. Omar, Chase, Skye, Ryan. She stops to grin at me. Theres no one at school that I really have a crush on, except maybe Ryan Delgado. Although hes dating Mandyand thats enough to make me wonder whats wrong with himhe still interests me. It doesnt hurt that hes gorgeous, even with his crooked nose that on anyone elses face might look ugly. On him its perfect. Just a reminder of how athletic he is. We weave past Lookout Ridge. Whoa. Check out all the cars at Lookout tonight. Drea slows down. Anyone we know?
ANNA SHINODA ~30~

I glance at the couples parked along the road, cars facing the view of stars above and city lights below. Dont think so. Oh. Wait. Lalas Love Mobile, I say, twisting around to catch another glimpse. Thats a big surprise. Drea rolls her eyes, then changes the subject. Off topic. Her voice raises with excitement. My moms getting the schedule for our trip all gured out; four colleges I like, and the two she thinks you and I should give a chance. And she needs to know which colleges youd want to add. Tonight would be cool, but you can let me know tomorrow. My heart sinks. Its not our summer trip anymore. It doesnt matter which colleges I want to see. And now I have to disappoint Drea. When I dont say anything, Drea asks, So...what do you think? You can pick out some schools you know I cant get into. Itd still be fun for me to visit them. It doesnt matter what I think, okay? I say in a burst, realizing too late that I sound angry at Drea. I mean, I told my mom, and shes completely against it. She even shut down asking my dad. I pause, thinking about telling Drea how Mom might have been considering it...before my brother called. But that could bring Skeleton into the car. I say instead, I got the typical lecture: Why would I waste good money moving out when I could go to a perfectly ne community college? That college is a hole. Youre not really considering it, are you? No, I say. My bestest friend, Drea, is going to scope out a good school for me.
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Are you sure you trust me? Drea gives me a devilish grin as she pulls over behind a long line of parked cars. Of course. At least I trust your report of campus life, I reply. Hiking up the dirt road, counting the cars on the waythirty-seven so farwe head toward the red-hot ash that ies beyond the treetops. Dreas dark skin looks almost blue in the full moons pale glow as she walks beside me. The knobby pines and gnarled oak trees have shed their usual sinister look for a fairy-tale forest. We pass the last car. Fifty-three. Between those and the ones parked down at Lookout, I doubt anyone between the ages of fourteen and eighteen is home tonight. I take a deep breath init feels so good to be out of the house. The road turns right, but we turn left to where a crowd huddles near the blazing bonre. More people line the edge of the clearing, leaning against the trees, smoke rising from the red tips of cigarettes waving in their hands. And then, beyond the line of trees, there are the silhouettes of classmates looking for more privacy in the woods. I look back toward the bonre, my eyes landing immediately on Peter, less than two steps away, guarding a massive ice chest. Really? Of all the people here, my brother has to be one of the rst I see? Peter! What a surprise. Never thought wed see you here! Drea greets him, ashing a sympathetic grin at some blond girl whos practically licking him. Remind me. How long ago did you graduate? Four years?
ANNA SHINODA ~32~

Three, Drea. And Im guessing that you might graduate next year. If you try really hard. Peter takes a chug from the Coors in his hand. Turning to me, he says, The real surprise is seeing my little baby sister here. Its past bedtime. Mommy and Daddy would be very upset to know you were out at a party. And Im sure theyd think its ne that their sweet boy Peter is the bartender, I say. Peter loves showing off that hes old enough to buy beer, and he doesnt mind the prot he makes by doing it either. Thats me. I try to contribute to the kids in any way I can. He glances down to his blonde, whos now looking bored. Drea hands Peter ve dollars. He slips it into his pocket, then dips his arms into the ice chest and holds out two beers. Youre welcome. Drea and I grab the cans and look past Peter. On the far side of the re, we spot our friends. Omar gives a nod, and the two-headed love monster, Chase and Skye, wave us over. Its getting worse. Even their hands are synchronized. Making our way to them, we say hi to a few kids we know. A cluster of Cranberry Hill girls are eyeing us, following our movements. Once they realize its just Drea and me, they go back to chattering in a close circle. It becomes quickly clear that the partys been going on for a while, by the amount of glazed eyes and slurred hellos we encounter. But when we join our own circle of friends, Skye informs us we havent missed much, and our typical banter begins. Summer plans, Lalas absence from the
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~33~

party, and a friendly argument between Omar and Chase about who will end up as valedictorian dominates most of our conversation until our attention is drawn to the right of us, where a sophomore stumbles to remain standing, a constant ow shooting from his zipper. At least hes aimed for the trees. Kind of. The re warms my left side, leaving the other exposed to the cool night air. I pull my hoodie on. Drea crinkles her nose. He must be really wasted to piss in front of everyone. Not as wasted as she is. One of the girls from ASB sits on the ground, laughing each time she fails to stand up. Classy, Omar comments, his thumbs pointing to the girl. What a mess. Ill tell you whats a mess. Peeing Sophomore staggers over, his words thick. Theres a dead squirrel. Over there. He points toward the sky, then the bonre, then the ground. Its gross. What did it die from? Drea asks. Your piss? I pinch my nose and swallow hard. His damp left pant leg is dangerously close to me. Im gonna get another beer, he says, heading rst toward, then away from the leaping ames. Better call your dad, Clare, Omar teases. How high is a dead squirrel on his priority list? If we call it in tonight, what time of day will he come to pick it up tomorrow? asks Chase, his blue eyes lit up. I smile. Here we go. The jokes about Dad never get oldnot to my friends, not even to me.
ANNA SHINODA ~34~

I smell a wager! Omar raises his eyebrows. Whos in? Five bucks says the pickup happens by noon tomorrow. Noon? No way. Skye shakes her head. When we found a dead cat in our backyard at ten oclock one night, he came right away to do it. You got the friends-and-family treatment, I reply wryly. Did he bring the giant spatula? Chase scoops his st in the air, pantomiming tossing a pancake and catching it. Catula! Omar cracks up at his own joke. Your mom doesnt use the Catula in the kitchen, does she? Only when you come over, I manage to say through my laugh. Lets call it in. Skye pulls her cell phone from her jeans pocket; her almond-shaped eyes disappear as she smiles mischievously. Dont. I give her a look. My dad might come right now to get it. And then hell start hanging out all buddy-buddy with us, Drea adds. And share his corpse-cleanup stories, Omar says, reverently lowering his ball cap to his heart. To my dad, I say, raising my beer can, keeping Sovereign Forest clean, one dead animal at a time! Hear, hear! Chase and Omar shout. Skye puts away her phone. Okay. I wont call now. But I promise, Im calling when I leave. Five bucks says the pickup happens between ten and
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~35~

eleven a.m., Chase says, pulling his wallet from his Manchester United sweatshirt. Ill put ve in for three p.m. I turn my head, although I already know the voice belongs to Ryan. His usually messy hair is mostly hidden by a beanie tonight, making his hazel eyes stand out even more. Surprisingly, Mandy isnt hanging on him, boa constrictor style. I look around, expecting to see her close behind, but shes nowhere to be seen. It makes me relax a little. When Mandy and I cross paths, she usually does her best to make Skeleton appear. Nice, Ryan! Chase takes the cash as Omar adds Ryans name to the list of bets hes typing into his cell phone. Who else wants in? As Chase and Omar collect money from our friends, I shake my head and take another sip. Beers almost done, but I keep the can anyway, like a security blanket. Its the perfect way to avoid being asked Wheres your drink? which almost always leads to another full beer landing in my hand. I dont want to be the stupid one, like the girl who couldnt stand upnow puking in the bushesor the sophomore socializing with a pee-soaked pant leg. Besides, its almost impossible to sneak back in intoxicated. I learned that from Peter. One morning my freshman year, when I was leaving for school, I found him sleeping with his back pressed against the house. He told me he couldnt nd the keyhole because it kept moving. So hed slept outside. His hands were like ice blocks. I dragged him inside, insisting that he take a shower before Mom woke up and wondered if we
ANNA SHINODA ~36~

had opened our own brewery. I got the water running hot before I left. Mom caught him right before he made it into the bathroom. She didnt care that hed been out all night, but she was furious he was drunk. He was stuck painting the house every weekend for a whole month. That was two years ago. I look over toward Peter. Hes making out with the blonde, one hand up her shirt. I think I might throw up, no beer necessary. Need a rell? Ryan asks, suddenly standing right next to me. Nope. Im good. I hold up my can. He smiles and leans against the nearest tree trunk. Settling in. Getting comfortable. Looking at me. Im suddenly hyperaware of my appearance. Is anything stuck in my teeth? Did my ridiculously long and random eyebrow hair grow since I trimmed it two nights ago? Why didnt I think of these things when I was getting ready? Having fun? he asks. Its not like its the rst time hes talked to me. Ryan oats from one group of friends to the next, unaware or uncaring of the invisible but present hierarchy of popularity. But this is the rst conversation that Ive ever had with Ryan alone. Yep. Ugh. Cant I think of anything to say other than nope and yep? Tonights pretty chill, but tomorrow nights going to be crazy. You gonna be there? Yep. Shit. There I go again. Quick. Make conversation. So. Big plans for the summer? Yeah. Im going down to Baja to surf Seven Sisters
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~37~

with some buddies of mine from Venice. I cant wait. I hate living away from the ocean. Thats sounds really amazing. Have a good time. Have a good time? Have a good time? Of course hes going to have a good time. Why did I say that? Why cant I think of something more original? Think. Normal conversation. I love the ocean. I love swimming. I sound like a stupid robot: I love. I love. Say something that doesnt start that way. One day Ill want to go scuba diving. Im even thinking of majoring in marine biology. Do you surf? He puts his drink down and stretches his hands toward the re. Its a little too far away to really feel the heat. He steps forward, and I follow. No. I mean, Im pretty bad in sports. But I snowboard. Kind of. Im not great, but I can link turns and get down the mountain. Good job, Clare. You almost said a sentence in there. We should ride together next winter. Do you ever go backcountry? I laugh. No. And I dont think I want to. Youre on a crazy different level from me. So, what are you doing this summer? he says, letting himself slip to the ground to sit down. I lower myself to the dirt patch next to him, dgeting with the tab on my beer can. I wish I had something as interesting as a surf trip to Mexico to talk about. The same old stuff. Just going to be here around town. Lifeguarding at the lake. Again. Filling out college and scholarship applications and preparing for the next AP tests. Is it too nerdy that I just confessed to
ANNA SHINODA ~38~

studying over the summer? Smart can be sexy. To some guys. I think. I hope. Thats cool. I dont know if Im going to do the college thing. I havent gured that out yet. Ryan shakes his head. Id like to just travel. You know? Everyone is in a rush to start working. By the time you retire, youre old. Why not do the stuff you want to do right out of high school and save the career for later? I guess I never thought of it that way, I say. Im having a vision of what that would be like. Hopping on a plane, maybe even with Ryan, landing somewhere beautiful and taking the time to just explore. Not caring about which college is going to get me the best job, the best paycheck. Its a fantasy. But I sit with it for a moment and try to believe its possible. There has to be a way to make it happen, right? His tone has changed, evidence that he knows reality will trump his idea. Avoiding my eyes, he grabs a long stick and puts the tip of it into the edge of the re. It smokes for a second, then lights. Youd think somehow. I pause and try to come up with something witty, something to make him laugh. When nothing surfaces, I go with practical. Are you good enough to go pro? Nah. He pulls the stick out of the re, watching the ame slowly work its way toward his hand. You could open a surf shop, I suggest, shoving my hands into my pockets. But then Id have to do math. As the ame grows, Ryan gives up and throws it into the bonre. We sit for a
LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~39~

second in silence, before my brain nds the right thing to say. Then I see only one option for you. You can travel the world. Get paid to do it. And you will get to wear an awesome outt every day. I lift my lips into a teasing smile. Flight attendant. He laughs. Cant I at least be a pilot? Sure. But you might have to do math. Ill get to wear the swanky hat, right? Its a good trade, he says, laughing again. This is fantastic. This is what I needed tonight. Ryan shrugs, then adds, Maybe its a good idea. My dad is always telling me that I need to start thinking of my life plan. He puts his ngers up as quotes. I dont know. I guess I dont want to choose the wrong thing. Why are you thinking marine biology? The ocean is...incredible. Fascinating. Mysterious. Id love to explore it. And I like all the crazy creatures. But. Its not like I know thats what I want to do for sure. It just feels like it might be a good idea. With your grades, you can do anything. Thats pretty rad. To have all your options open. I watch as Ryan grabs another long stick to put into the re. Ive always thought of him as so happy, so relaxed. Its strange to think that hes as unsure about what to do as the rest of us. Maybe even more because school isnt his thing. Then it hits meRyan knows I have good grades, which means hes at least aware of me. Im about to say something else, when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. My reminder alarm. Its time to leave so I can sneak back in before my parents wake up.
ANNA SHINODA ~40~

Dreas standing next to Omar. It looks like Chase and Skye are already gone. Even the bonre has shrunk. It was great talking to you, I say to Ryan. But Ive got to go. Yeah, he agrees, it looks like the partys over. See you around, Clare. Good night. I join Drea. As we walk away from the re, a chilled breeze creeps through my sweatshirt. The full moon has set. Even the trees nearest the dirt road blend to a menacing black. We automatically quicken our pace without saying a word to each other. In less than fteen minutes my night out is over. Drea drops me off at my regular spot a few doors down. I walk hastily to my house, slide my key in, open the door, ght with the key to get it back out of the lock. Try to close the door quietly, grimace at the loud click the latch makes as it shuts. Tiptoeing down the hall to my bedroom, I accidently hit a squeaky oorboard on my way. Damn. Gently I turn my doorknob and push the door open. Carefully close it. Turn on my desk lamp. And scream. My mom sits on my bed, tightly wrapped in her robe. Her thin arms are crossed against her chest. Are you trying to wake the whole house, Clare? You scared me, I whisper. Not as much as you scared me. She stands up. I keep my eyes down, away from her glare. I see her slippers have worn through; one of her toes is peeking
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out the end. Ill have to remember at Christmas that she needs new ones. Sneaking in at three oclock in the morning. After you told me that you were not going to the party tonight because you were too tired. I believed your lie. My mother stands up and puts her nger under my chin, pressing hard on the bone. Raising my head. With her other hand she shakes the note. Then this: I couldnt sleep, so I went for a walk. Did you really think I would fall for that? I was a teenager once too. Im not stupid. Sorry, I whisper, looking into her eyes, red and swollen from the early hour. Young ladyMom grabs my arm tight, pulling me indo I smell beer? Youve been drinking, too? I had one. Just one. Liar. Mom leans in close to my face, her sharp nose practically touching mine, her night breath melting my skin. Sneaking out. Drinking. Lying. Whats next, Clare? Skeleton makes his entrance, twirling through the doorway, dramatically tossing his hat to the hook on the wall. He sits on my desk to watch the show. I tell my eyes to stop watering. I swallow hard and look to my sh tank. Angelsh gracefully weave through the pearl grass. Think sh. Think swimming underwater, bubbles and bright colors. I exhale, imagining the air escaping my mouth and oating to the surface. Youre grounded. For a month. No car. No phone. No computer. No TV. No friends. Mom holds her
ANNA SHINODA ~42~

hand out. Give me your car keys and your cell phone. Skeleton shakes his nger. Shame, shame. What about school tomorrow? I need to drive to school. My keys dangle in the air, suspended by two ngers over Moms cupped-hand re pit. Fine. But youll be grounded for the whole summer if you dont come home immediately after. I have to work at graduation. Junior honor guard. Remember? Graduation ends at nine thirty. I expect you home by ten p.m. sharp. Not one minute late. Mom and her holey slipper are at the door. Did you hear me, young lady? Not one minute late. Yes, Mom. I pull on my pajamas and sink into bed. A month! Shes never grounded me for that long before. And its the rst month of summer! Ill miss the party tomorrow night. Miss the opportunity to see Ryan again. But as I try to go to sleep, its not the thought of being grounded that keeps me awakeits my mothers words and everything they imply: Sneaking out. Drinking. Lying. Whats next, Clare?

LEARNING NOT TO DROWN ~43~

Chapter 6:

Why?
THEN: Age Seven

Why is Luke in jail, Mommy? I raced in the front door. Id been waiting almost all day to ask her. Who said hes in jail? Mom stood up from the couch and helped me take my backpack off. Mandy Jordan. She told everyone at recess that her mom says Luke is in jail because hes a bad guy. I bit my lip. She said he doesnt even deserve bread and water. You shouldnt listen to what other people say, Mom said. I thought that he was visiting Granny. But some other kids said its true. That hes in jail. And jail is where they put the bad people. Why is he in jail? Is Luke bad? I bit harder. Mom gave me a long look. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, she said, pulling me into her lap. So hes not at Grannys? I started to cry. What did he do? I told you. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears off my cheeks.
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When can he come home? I asked. Hell be back by Easter, she said. Easter! That was almost a whole year away! Before I could say anything else, Mom asked, What do you have for homework? A spelling worksheet, and some math, I think, I said. Well, youd better get started. She steered me toward the kitchen table. I had more questions, but I knew Mom didnt want to talk anymore. At least I had an answer. Something to say when Mandy started picking on me again. Mandy, Luke was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That doesnt mean he did anything bad. It felt good, to have that answer. For a little while. But then I started thinking more about it. Luke was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone can go to jail for that? Does that mean he wasnt supposed to be in jail and someone else was? Did he do something bad by accident? And what about me? What if I was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Theneverywhere I wentI thought, Could it happen to me? At school: Will I have to go to the principals ofce if the person next to me cheats, because I am in the wrong place? In the grocery store: If someone steals something while I am here, will I go to jail because I am in the store at the wrong time? I was afraid to say anything to Mom or Dad about it. I could tell Mom didnt like talking about it, and I didnt want to make her sad. Or mad. If I asked
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the wrong question at the wrong time, Id be stuck grounded or have to do more chores. So I kept my lips tightly shut, the fear of going to jaileven though Id done nothing wronglling my mind and growing, growing, growing.

ANNA SHINODA ~46~