Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight Andrews, C. (books for students to read TXT) 📖
Book online «Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight Andrews, C. (books for students to read TXT) 📖». Author Andrews, C.
I don't know how it is for you these days with all the time that has passed. Sometimes, I wake up and look around as if I expect I'm back in the barn barracks, and I'm surprised I'm in a real bed in my own room, which is a very nice room, by the way. I'm sure it's not as nice as Teal's, so don't start describing your room again and cataloging all your valuable possessions, Teal. I acknowledge you 're a spoiled rich kid.
Just kidding. I'm jealous as always.
Sometimes, often I should say, if I hear a thumping sound, maybe just the bass on a speaker in some guy's car, I think about Natani. I laugh to myself, remembering the looks on your faces when he told us his animal stories or spoke in his mystical way. The truth is I miss him and wish that someday I can go back to see him.
The only thing is, just like you two, I imagine, thoughts about returning to that place make me shudder as well.
I wonder about Mindy. There doesn 't seem to be any way to find out about her. For all we know, she might still be locked up in some clinic. Maybe she's too far gone to be cured, ever. I hope not. You ever think about her?
And of course, I think a great deal about Gia, how she kept so much of herself hidden from us, disguised in imaginary people and events. When I think about it, my parents essentially gave me away, too, and I rate my uncle and aunt about the same in the horror factor as Dr. Foreman. You'd have to meet my aunt to see what I mean. The big difference was that my daddy really hoped to have me back.
Well, I guess I'll have to tell you. I've met someone nice. I'm talking about a boy. His name's Ralston Marks. He's on the football team. Actually, he's the quarterback. Teal, don't start bragging about your boyfriends.
Ralston is unlike any boy I have ever been with. He's polite, religious, but not overly so, and he's a very good student. He looks to be a shoo-in for scholarships to important colleges. I don't know why he wants to be with me all the time, but, be still my pitter-patter heart, he does. He says I'm one of the most mature girls for our age he's known.
I guess how I am now is a result of what we all went through. Everything other girls are doing seems to be so silly to me lately. I hate just hanging around malls anymore, and when I hear them gossiping in school, I really do think ofNatani's chickens clucking. That's how Ralston first saw me, sitting there with this goofy smile on my face. He asked me what was so funny, and I told him and he laughed and we haven't stopped talking and being with each other since.
I should tell you that my foster parents are truly very nice people. My foster mother's name isCoco. She's French Canadian. Her parents emigrated there (How do you like the big word?) from a place called Cap Ferrat in southern France where they were in the service industry, a nice way to say butlers and maids. She met Andre in Quebec and they were married in Canada, then came to America and settled in Atlanta because of a business connection Andre had. They now own a big department store, and Coco is the clothes buyer.
So here's the best news of all. . . yours truly models clothes at the store on Sundays, the new fashions from Europe. It was Coco's idea. I almost refused to do it because I remembered Dr. Foreman telling me I could be a model and she would help arrange for that if I was just a good little Foreman girl. Why should we stop ourselves from doing things we like just because Dr. Foreman mentioned them, however?
I might actually continue doing this on a professional basis. A woman who runs a modeling agency stopped in last week. She said she had heard about me and she wants me to come see her. Coco approves. I really love her. She's so up and happy all the time and her and Andre's three children all like me, too.
All this happiness frightens me. I keep thinking someone from my past is going to appear on the doorstep and have reasons why I can't continue. Do you have any of those sorts of fears? When will they stop ?
Last week, at Andre and Coco's insistence, I went to the cemetery and visited my daddy's and mama's graves. It didn 't seem real to me. I had tokeep rereading their names to convince myself that this was where they really were now.
Is there really any way to make peace with your past? I was tempted to crawl into one of Natani's shells, to avoid the tombstones, but I didn 't. I couldn 't.
And he was right, I couldn't stand there and say good-bye.
I knew I would be back many times and I would tell them good things.
And maybe someday even bring my own children along.
When I think of all this, I realize what it is we've achieved. Again, ironically, what we have achieved is something Dr. Foreman said we didn't have, a future.
We have a future, don't we?
We can hope, and most of all, we can dream.
Write me if you can, if you want, if it doesn't bring back too many painful memories.
I don't ever, ever want to be the cause of someone 's painful memories again.
Love, Phoebe birdDear Phoebe,
You won't believe this, but I have been after my big-shot brother
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