Free In the Clear by Anne Carter Page A

the closed doors, in the classrooms are the other kids. Working. I want to be here too.
    I do one stair at a time. There are twelve to the landing and then another set of twelve. When I’m almost at the top, a teacher comes down the hallway, carrying papers. He reminds me of the principal. He wears a dark jacket over a white shirt and tie, and he doesn’t look happy to see me.
    â€œAhh … do you need help?”
    â€œNo,” I tell him. “Thank you,” remembering to be polite. I guess he’s never seen anyone in crutches on these stairs.
    I swing my left leg up the last stair, turn around and prepare to go down. The teacher’s behind me. I can feel his fear following me.
    I go back down the stairs. This time the crutches go down first.
    I’m breathing hard when I reach the bottom.
    â€œTen minutes,” the principal says, dismayed.
    â€œYou did it!” my mother says. I hear pride in her voice.
    I lean against the wall. I can imagine what the principal and the teacher are thinking. Five minutes up. Five minutes down. I’ll be late for every class. And what if someone jostles me down the stairs?
    Then a bell rings, loud in my ears, and I jump. All of a sudden, doors along the hallway bang open and kids pour out from all directions. Everybody is carrying books. How will I manage these crowds with my crutches? Kids see me and walk past as if I’m invisible. But I see them peek back, staring at me resting heavily on my crutches. No one smiles. No one comes close.
    Suddenly I see Stuart O’Connor, his freckled face and curly hair. He sees me and waves, runs toward me with a big, friendly smile. I feel like crying as he approaches.
    â€œHey, Pauline! Whatcha doing?”
    â€œHi, Stu. Checking out the school.”
    The boy beside him shuffles from one foot to the other, gawking at me, then looking away down the hall. I bet he’s never seen a leg like mine before.
    â€œMaybe I can give you a tour.”
    â€œCome on, Stu,” the other boy says uneasily. “We’re going to be late for math.”
    â€œI’d rather take Pauline on a tour,” Stu says, laughing at his obvious ploy to miss class. Another bell rings and the other boy pulls his sleeve, heading down the hallway.
    â€œGuess I better go. You should check out the gym, Pauline. Show Miss McCarthy your shot. See ya Saturday.”
    We don’t do a tour. I’m anxious to go home. There are too many problems to sort out and my head is spinning. My mother asks me what I think and I tell her I don’t know. I put school in the back closet of my mind with a sign on it: Undecided. It’s not just the stairs. It’s those kids staring at me, keeping their distance. Could I stand it?
    Here on my window seat it’s lonely, but no one’s afraid of me.
    â€¢ • •
    Saturday morning, as usual, Henry, Stuart and Billy call on me for a game of road hockey. My mother’s okay about it, as long as Dad plays too. She can’t help worrying about the road. The boys like my dad with us. So do I. With Dad pushing me, I can play forward. We’re getting fast – and good.
    But the last Saturday in October, just before we get ready to go out, my mother stops me.
    â€œBefore you go out, there’s something we’ve been meaning to tell you.”
    Dad buttons up his coat, looking uncomfortable. “Do you think this is the moment?”
    The way they’re looking at each other, I know it’s something big. “What’s the matter? Did someone die?”
    â€œNo,” my father laughs at me. “The opposite. Your mother is going to …”
    I gasp, feeling stupid, noticing for the first time the slight bulge of her usually flat belly. Suddenly I realize she has been wearing loose-fitting dresses for a while instead of skirts. My mother’s pregnant! How awful!
    â€œHow could you?” I blurt out, feeling betrayed. Aren’t I good