A Room on Lorelei Street by Mary E. Pearson

back.”
    Grandma moves on, searching for the next soft spot. “You think you’re going to make it on your own? You’re only seventeen! You sling hash, for God’s sake! You think you can make it on that ?” The look again. She fumbles in her purse for another cigarette and lights it as she continues to talk. The cigarette is tucked in her knobby fingers like a glowing pointer that she shakes at Zoe. “You ain’t gonna make it. You hear me, Beth? You’ll be back. You’ll come crawling back for forgiveness, and you know what? We’ll give it to you, too. Your mama and me. Because we’re family, and that’s what family does. You’ll come begging and crying, and we’ll take you back. But things’ll be different, that’s for sure. You can count on that. You hear me, Beth? You hear what I’m saying?”
    â€œI hear,” Zoe says.
    Grandma shakes her head and narrows her eyes to puckered slits. She leans so close Zoe can smell her smoky breath. “Family sticks together—real family, that is. But I think you got all of your daddy’s blood and none of your mama’s. I guess you’re hardly family at all.” She shakes her head one last time and leaves.
    Zoe walks to the landing, watching Grandma plod down the steps. When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, she turns and calls, “And don’t bother coming to Kyle’s party on Saturday. Only family’s invited. Unless, that is, you’ve already come crawling back by then.”
    She watches Grandma disappear around the corner of the garage, and with crushing clarity Zoe knows that she will die—she will truly die—before she ever crawls back. She forces a breath, and another wave of knowing hits her. Nothing will keep her from Kyle’s party on Saturday. Kyle is more hers than anyone’s.
    She goes back in and closes the door, the door to her room on Lorelei Street, and in that instant, with the clicking of the latch, Ruby is no longer small. It is a large town of close-knit families, best friends arm-in-arm, houses with well-kept gardens and easy laughter, conversations buzzing over phone lines, and life of which Zoe is not a part. Ruby is suddenly very, very large, and Zoe is very, very small. She is only seventeen, and she only slings hash, and if she were to slip away into inky black nothingness, would anyone really notice?

Fourteen
    Opal hugs a bag of groceries with one arm and lifts the other arm to Zoe. She waves her twiggy fingers, and Zoe thinks her smile is too young for her wrinkled apple face. It reminds her of Kyle, smiling from somewhere down deep, as much for himself as anyone else. Zoe waves back. She manages a smile, too. She knows her smile doesn’t come as freely or as deeply, but it is the best she can do, and Opal nods her head like she is so pleased that Zoe saw her.
    She puts the car into drive. Soon Opal is out of her vision and she only sees the dappled flash of light on her hood as she races down Lorelei Street to work. She is only at Carmichael when another flash comes into view. The red warning light glows on the instrument panel. She needs oil. Shit . Why now? She thinks she can make it to the gas station half a block from Murray’s. Didn’t she just add oil? How long can you drive with the oil light on? She doesn’t know. Grandma would just love to see this. Would love to see her burning up Mama’s engine. But it’s only oil. It’s only a couple of bucks. She’ll take care of it better than Mama would have.
    With each block she feels the glowing red light twisting something inside of her tighter. Ungrateful. Am I really? The light seems to grow brighter. The engine and I may poof at the same time, she thinks. Poof. No more engine. No more Zoe. No more nothing. Would that be so bad?
    Six blocks later she turns off into Thrifty Gas and Garage. She rolls down the window and asks the attendant for oil.