Free The Fall of Alice K. by Jim Heynen Page A

with God was sacrilegious. You didn’t stick your hand into that fire. You didn’t comment on somebody’s prayer—unless it was the prayer of somebody with a false religion because they were reaching out to a figment of their imaginations.
    Alice’s father stared—no, he glowered at her. “As long as we have lips to offer thanks, we will offer thanks.”
    Alice could feel Aldah absorbing the tension at the table.
    â€œIt’s all right,” said Alice. “Eat, Aldah. Just eat.”
    Without warning her mother made a bold announcement: “We need to have Aldah go live at Children’s Care.”
    â€œWhat?” Alice’s response was quick as an “ouch.”
    â€œWe decided it was best,” said her father.
    â€œWe?”
    â€œYour mother and I.”
    Alice leveled her eyes at her mother. “Your mother and I?”
    â€œYour father and I,” said her mother.
    â€œThe two of you decided this little life-changing event? This little ‘Let’s break up the family, no questions asked’ event?”
    Alice pushed her plate away. Her urge was to behave like her mother and bolt from the unpleasant scene, but that would only have left this ridiculous idea unchallenged. “Oh, who cares what Alice thinks about this little decision to shove a family member out the door so we don’t have to look at her anymore. Just get rid of her. Vamoose. Is that what you decided? Like what kind of ice cream to buy for dessert or something?”
    â€œAs if you didn’t know it was coming,” said her mother.
    â€œIt’s a decision that parents have to make, not children,” said her father.
    Alice stared at her mother, not her father. It had to have been her
mother who came up with the idea to dump Aldah. Her mother could get cold and calculating when she wanted to. She had a way of making ideas that were not good ideas sound as if they were. She had worked her father over—and he had caved. If a stare of disdain had any power at all, it would have leveled her mother on the spot.
    â€œIt was a hard decision,” said her father. “We’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”
    â€œThinking and talking about it,” said Alice. “Is that right? Talking about it?” She kept her eyes leveled at her mother.
    â€œYes,” said her mother. “Talking about it.”
    â€œI didn’t hear any talking,” said Alice. “Where was I when all of this talking was going on? What am I, something you can just ignore and talk around? Pretend I don’t exist, just shove under the rug and ignore? Like a mouse turd?”
    â€œThat kind of talk has to stop,” said her father.
    â€œIt will be for the best,” said her mother.
    â€œThat’s stupid! An institution won’t help her! Look what she’s learned from me. You think you can just dump her out of our lives? Export her? Just like that? And the special-ed teachers said she was improving.”
    â€œThat’s not what the scores say,” said her mother.
    Alice argued, railed, screamed, accused, and finally pleaded.
    â€œI’ll come home earlier after school,” she said. “I’ll spend more time with her after supper. I’ll talk to the special-ed teachers about what we can do at home.”
    Her parents were a stubborn unit. They had clearly planned to let her rant and not budge. Alice was a debater, and both of her parents knew better than to try taking her on with reason and evidence. They just took her on with their mantra: “We’ve thought about this for a long time, and we believe it is best for everyone.” They were even ready on the money issue: evidently, total financial disclosure cleared the way for state aid.
    Her calm father was a fully converted accomplice. Aldah would be spending one more week living at home and going to her special-ed classes during the day. After that, she would