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Предыдущая страница

From

the

corner

of

my

eye

,

I

could

almost

see

my

mother

standing

in

the

shade

of

the

big

eucalyptus

tree

where

I

’

d

played

as

a

child

.

Or

kneeling

by

the

little

plot

of

dirt

around

the

mailbox

,

the

cemetery

of

all

the

flowers

she

’

d

tried

to

grow

.

The

memories

were

better

than

any

reality

I

would

see

today

.

But

I

raced

away

from

them

,

toward

the

corner

,

leaving

everything

behind

me

.

I

felt

so

slow

,

like

I

was

running

through

wet

sand

-

I

couldn

’

t

seem

to

get

enough

purchase

from

the

concrete

.

I

tripped

several

times

,

once

falling

,

catching

myself

with

my

hands

,

scraping

them

on

the

sidewalk

,

and

then

lurching

up

to

plunge

forward

again

.

But

at

last

I

made

it

to

the

corner

.

Just

another

street

now

;

I

ran

,

sweat

pouring

down

my

face

,

gasping

.

The

sun

was

hot

on

my

skin

,

too

bright

as

it

bounced

off

the

white

concrete

and

blinded

me

.

I

felt

dangerously

exposed

.

More

fiercely

than

I

would

have

dreamed

I

was

capable

of

,

I

wished

for

the

green

,

protective

forests

of

Forks

.

.

.

of

home

.

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When

I

rounded

the

last

corner

,

onto

Cactus

,

I

could

see

the

studio

,

looking

just

as

I

remembered

it

.

The

parking

lot

in

front

was

empty

,

the

vertical

blinds

in

all

the

windows

drawn

.

I

couldn

’

t

run

anymore

-

I

couldn

’

t

breathe

;

exertion

and

fear

had

gotten

the

best

of

me

.

I

thought

of

my

mother

to

keep

my

feet

moving

,

one

in

front

of

the

other

.

As

I

got

closer

,

I

could

see

the

sign

inside

the

door

.

It

was

handwritten

on

hot

pink

paper

;

it

said

the

dance

studio

was

closed

for

spring

break

.

I

touched

the

handle

,

tugged

on

it

cautiously

.

It

was

unlocked

.

I

fought

to

catch

my

breath

,

and

opened

the

door

.

The

lobby

was

dark

and

empty

,

cool

,

the

air

conditioner

thrumming

.

The

plastic

molded

chairs

were

stacked

along

the

walls

,

and

the

carpet

smelled

like

shampoo

.

The

west

dance

floor

was

dark

,

I

could

see

through

the

open

viewing

window

.

The

east

dance

floor

,

the

bigger

room

,

was

lit

.

But

the

blinds

were

closed

on

the

window

.

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Terror

seized

me

so

strongly

that

I

was

literally

trapped

by

it

.

I

couldn

’

t

make

my

feet

move

forward

.

And

then

my

mother

’

s

voice

called

.

"

Bella

?

Bella

?

"

That

same

tone

of

hysterical

panic

.

I

sprinted

to

the

door

,

to

the

sound

of

her

voice

.

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