Free Eleanor by Johnny Worthen Page B

help.”
    â€œOkay,” Tabitha said heavily. “But you’ve got to be more careful, cupcake.”
    Tabitha rocked the shaking girl in her arms for a long time.
    When she’d calmed down, Tabitha said, “I bet you’re hungry.”
    Eleanor nodded.
    â€œGet those steaks out,” she said. “You need protein.”
    The steaks were old, left over from her Nebraska trip. She thawed two, knowing that Tabitha wouldn’t have any. Lately her stomach rebelled against anything but the blandest food.
    After dinner, the two played cards on the kitchen table. Eleanor could see that Tabitha was tired, but she insisted on the game.
    â€œYou know, sweetie, I’m not always going to be here,” said Tabitha, putting down a two.
    â€œDon’t talk that way,” Eleanor said, drawing a card.
    â€œEven without cancer, parents go before their kids. It’s okay.”
    Eleanor put down a jack. Tabitha took it.
    â€œWe’ve got to think about it, cupcake. You still have three years of school.”
    â€œI don’t need school,” she said.
    â€œYes, you do,” she said. “I’ve been thinking that it’s a good thing for you to stretch out a little and interact more with the other kids. I know you’re scared and suspicious, and you should be. But you need to learn about them so you can be among them the rest of your life.”
    Eleanor drew another card. She pretended to concentrate on her options and then finally laid down a seven.
    â€œYou’re a fine girl,” Tabitha said. “You’ll be a fine woman. You can be anything you want to be.”
    Eleanor shot her mother a look. When it dawned on Tabitha, they both broke out laughing.
    â€œDo you want the seven?” asked Eleanor.
    â€œNo.” Tabitha drew a card.
    â€œMomma, I don’t want to think about it. We’re okay now. That’s all that matters. When things change, we’ll see where we are then, okay? Plans just lead to disappointment.”
    â€œThat’s not true, Eleanor,” said Tabitha. “We should have a plan. Just in case.”
    â€œNot tonight, Momma,” Eleanor said.
    â€œOkay, cupcake. Gin.”
    The school was abuzz with Eleanor’s yap. If there was any doubt where the sound had come from before, Barbara, Crystal, and Penelope had made sure everyone knew that Eleanor had gone feral after being teased. She heard the talk in the halls before she was even in the school. She felt the stares and noted how the others stepped out of her way when she moved to her locker.
    Her mother had told her to act like nothing had happened, and if that wasn’t possible, to act like she’d been in a fight and won it. “Wear it like a trophy,” she’d told her.
    She was trying. In English class she stared down Barbara and Penelope by retreating deep into her own skull, imagining her eyes to be medieval arrow slits in a fortress wall. Safe behind yards of stone, she froze her expression with an unnatural stillness that finally made all the gawkers look away.
    David tried to communicate sympathy and curiosity in a single look that Eleanor acknowledged with only a twitch of her lip, a brief chink in the wall, a smile of thanks.
    â€œFriday there will be no school, as you know,” said Mrs. Hart. “It’s the Fall School Rodeo at the Center and I expect everyone to be there to support our Cowboys. I won’t be taking roll, but I will notice if anyone isn’t there.”
    Mrs. Hart looked quizzically at the class, perhaps sensing something she didn’t know.
    â€œLet’s discuss Room 101,” she said picking up her copy of 1984. She’d promised to be done with the book by Halloween next week.
    â€œRussell Liddle,” Mrs. Hart said, making the boy jerk up from his doodling. “What does Room 101 say about the state’s omniscience?”
    â€œUm,” he said. “That it wants some?”
    A