Solstice - Of The Heart by John Blenkush Page A

to Aaron’s action I thought it best to play
dumb.
    “Yes. The car’s like a tank, big motor
and all. We were fortunate it pulled us out of the
ditch.”
    I heard the school warning bell go
off.
    “Sorry, Mr. Delmon. I’m late for
class.”
    Bernard withdrew the trash picker. He
waved it at the front doors. “Of course. Sorry to have kept you.
Go. Have a nice day.”
    “I made my move for the
door.”
    “Oh, one more thing, Miss
Grant.”
    “Yes?”
    “That day I had you cleaning lockers
you by chance didn’t take anything out of them, did
you?”
    I was stunned to the point I almost
couldn’t answer.
    “Absolutely not! Why would
I?”
    “Didn’t think you would. Just that one
of the students is complaining they’re missing their Ipod. A few
other things have gone lost also. You know these teenagers. Always
losing their stuff.” Bernard held up his trash picker. It clutched
a ball point pen. “See. Always losing things. You have a good
day.”
    “You too.”
    I didn’t know what that was all about.
But I didn’t like it. I hadn’t stolen anything in my entire life.
Well, I take that back.
    There was the time we were in
Minnesota and my parents took me on a day trip to the head-waters
of the Mississippi River. We walked across the mighty Mississippi
(thrill!) and then while roaming through the gift shop I took a
liking to this Indian girl doll. I walked out of the store without
paying for it. I was only six, but I still remember the
embarrassment of being marched back into the store and having to
turn the doll back over to the store clerk. I never walked out of a
store without paying for something again, even if it was but a
stick of gum.
    Steal? Bernard was barking up the
wrong tree. Or was he? Was he barking or growling—warning me of
dire repercussions should I continue on the path of building a
relationship with Aaron. I felt something sinister about Bernard,
in a very subtle sort of way.
    Jason ran up beside me as I worked my
way through the masses toward Spanish Class.
    “Different hat,” he said.
    I remembered I still had the maroon,
wave-cloud beanie on. I also remembered the rule of no hats to be
worn in class. I pulled it from my head and carried it into the
classroom. I’m sure, as usual, my hair looked frightful. It didn’t
help seeing the three drama queens, Charleen, Sandra, and Brittany,
perky and perfectly groomed, already seated with pens and paper in
hand. Did they not ever go anywhere without each other?
    I suspected not.
    I was beginning to feel like the bum
who was always late for the party. I needed to go shopping, get
some new clothes. Maybe get a haircut or have it styled. None of
that seemed appealing. I was who I was. “A natural beauty,” as my
father use to say, “born from the earth.” I was blessed with black,
thick hair, brown eyes, good complexion, and an okay body. What
more could a boy want?
    Jason and I took a seat as
the final bell sounded. I smiled at Jason knowing he saved me
embarrassment at the whim of Mr. Albom, who not only expected you
to be seated on time, but to have your “books, eyes, and ears open
and ready to receive instruction”
    Jason and I hustled to meet his
directive.
    Tuesday wore on slowly, of course.
When you’re in a hurry to get somewhere, time, almost always, seems
to slow to a crawl. I was saved from having to dress for my third
period class, Phys Ed. Indoor hockey isn’t my specialty. Guess
that’s not a bad thing for a Minnesota girl to admit since the
North Stars (hockey team) vacated Minnesota some years ago and are
now the Dallas Stars.
    Ms. Wroblewski, my teacher, pulled me
aside and handed me a note. I was to report to the front office. It
didn’t take much guessing as to why I was being summoned. Mr.
Roberts, the attendance monitor, met me at the door.
    “Miss Grant, I see you were absent
from first period class.”
    “Yes, sorry.”
    “Do you have a note from your
mother?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “She was out