Durham High School - Messenger Yearbook (Durham, NC)

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What about the others? All I do is waste her time. That ' s fairness, is it? Phoebe looked up again, expectantly. Allison was not smiling. That ' s not what I said. You have to decide if you ' re going to go on seeing her or not. And then don ' t worry about the others. They can take care of themselves. Phoebe stared at her hands, turned them over, inspected them. Do you think it ' s all right? Being so fond of a teacher and all? I said not to worry about the others. I don ' t mean the others, interrupted Phoebe standing up. I mean you, Allison. Do you think it ' s fair? Phoebe stood up even with her. Sunlight flashed on Allison ' s spectacles. Allison turned her face from the sun. Phoebe could not see her face. If you want ... I have other friends. If you want a teacher for one of yours. I ' ll stand behind you. You ' re fortunate, you know, having a teacher for a friend. Allison turned into the glare of the sun, spectacles flashing. She smiled. I envy you some¬ times. Phoebe said nothing. Allison smiled again. I ' m going home for lunch; call me if you want to. Phoebe nodded and watched her disappear down the quadrangle to the road that led back to their neighborhood. She picked up the swimming bag from the ground and uncrumpled it. The sun moved from behind a cloud. She watched the library entrance with shaded eyes and hoisted the bag to her shoulders and stood. The breeze stiffened and the magnolia trees, clumped around the entrance to the library, parted their foliage like a child searching in the grass for Easter eggs. The lawn had been freshly mowed and had a cleaner look about it than when she had come to swimming practice early that morning. Phoebe wanted to take her shoes off and go running bare¬ foot through it. She kicked off one shoe and stood balanced on the pavement. She slipped her foot out of the other one. A woman appeared from the arched entrance under the magnolia trees and walked towards the blinker light and the bench beside the bus stop. Phoebe had grass in her shoe. She saw the teacher sitting alone on the marble bench under the yellow light winking. She was wearing the green dress. Then Phoebe stuck her shoes back on with the grass still in them and started walking back down the hill after Allison. And she was counting objects and things in her mind.

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Phoebe, began Allison. No. Phoebe dropped her hands to her lap. I wouldn ' t say anything about next year. I would just watch her a moment. I could do that. She looked over Allison ' s shoulder towards the blinker light. Do you think she could see me sitting way over here? Phoebe sensed something elipsing the sun. The shadow lengthened. Allison was standing over her. Phoebe, I wouldn ' t see her if I were you, said Allison, watching her. It ' s for your own good. Allison! You just don ' t understand. But Phaebe sat on the bench, watching the shadow on the grass. Sometimes, she, said, I imagine she comes out to talk and I think of all the things we might say. When I go home I have a fear of never seeing her again. That ' s silly. You can see her at school on Monday. That ' s just it. I ' m afraid my parents won ' t let me keep on going to school where I wish. They ' ll send me away to school. But your grades are fine, insisted Allison. Just the same, I have that fear. I had it once when my Irish Setter ran away from home one day in the summer and I just knew he ' d never come back. It was because I loved him so much. Phoebe felt Allison ' s shadow rnove. She watched the grass again. I found him one day. A car had run over him. He was just lying there, by the side of the road with dried mud caked in his paws, and his mouth. And blueflies were buzzing around his head and in his ears. I never wanted another dog. She looked up at Allison. It just wouldn ' t be the same. But you just can ' t give up, caaxed Allison, taking the towel she had brought with her from its place on the bench to her arms. You ' re not being fair to yourself, Phoebe. Try to be fair to yourself. 17

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OH MY AMERICA by CiinJon Pyne Oh my America the beautiful. from sea to shining sea, 1 see John F. Whatshisname Memorial Spitoons; and polyvinyl plastic crusifix pillows (Souvenir of Niagara Falls.) You are the home of the Free and The land of the Brave. From Grenada, Mississippi to Harlem. So here I sit in my split-level school With its new football helments. And write about it. 19