Page 9
Act normal, Diana.
I’m used to people’s first reactions to me, it’s just been a while since I’ve had to endure it. I’d love to read their thoughts as they stare into my white eyes for the first time.
His eyes soften but linger on my pathetic, worn-down backpack, then to my unusual ivory dress. The tips of his mustache twitch. “Are you going to the high school in town?”
I nod without really looking at him. Hoping…hoping he doesn’t truly see me. That he can look past the obvious fact that I’m different and let me on, anyway.
“I’m trying to get there. Today’s my first day.”
He watches me for a long second. He doesn’t say anything…he’s waiting. Waiting for me to look up at him, but I refuse. “You really don’t have any money?”
I keep my focus on my feet. “I’m sorry. I have no money, but I can pay you tomorrow. My mama and I just moved here; I live nearby. I promise, I’m good for it.” The tears start to burn the backs of my eyes as the dollar bill Mama gave me burns a hole in my bag.
The shame, embarrassment, and constant struggles.
My eyes finally meet his, and his mustache twitches again, which makes me smile. “You mean you live in the old Sheffield place?”
I shuffle slightly and kick a rock with my shoe. “That’s right. How did you know?”
“I heard about you and your mama movin’ in a few days ago. We don’t get a lot of new people ‘round here.”
My eyebrows drift up. “We just need to get on our feet. I can pay you back, I promise.” I’m not surprised that our arrival has already spread. Small towns have eyes everywhere, even if you can’t see them.
Our eyes meet, and I decide he is a good one. His eyes are kind. I’ve learned from constantly meeting new people that you can tell a lot about someone based on their eyes. My guess is, he’s seen a lot.
He jerks his head. “Alright. Hop on. Gotta drive in any way, so I might as well take you with me.”
Exhaling, I rush inside before he changes his mind, grabbing the first seat and placing my backpack down. “Thank you so much.”
He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, staring at me through the rearview mirror. “Why are your eyes and hair white like that?”
“I was born without pigment in them…it’s a genetic condition.” At least, that’s what I was told once by a nurse. Not according to Mama, but he doesn’t need to know that.
He reaches over and pulls the lever to shut the door. “I’ve lived in Kinsmen for sixty years, and I’ve never seen anyone like you,” he tells me, blatantly staring. I keep his gaze this time. If he wants to look, let him look. He’ll see that there is nothing scary in them.
I run my hand along one of my braids and smile. “My name is Diana.”
“The names Marty. Nice to meet you, Diana. The bus doesn’t leave for another ten minutes. This is the end of my line, so you will have to wait. And it only comes back out here again at the end of the day. You miss it, you miss it, you understand?”
My eyes light up. “Thank you. Yes, I understand. I won’t miss it, I promise.”
My stomach plummets, a cold dread washing over me as I realize there’s no money for tomorrow, either. If Mama has money, she won’t want to give me any for the bus.
“Marty,” I whisper, and he looks up at me. “I can’t pay you tomorrow, either. Or the day after. My mama doesn’t work yet.”
He looks back at me in the mirror. “Tell you what, you can pay me when you can.”
“Are you sure?”
He shrugs. “I’ll probably get fired, but I’m too old and tired to care. But I also can’t let you miss school. I don’t reckon I’d feel too good ‘bout that.”
I mouth thank you, and he goes back to his magazine and cigarette, finishing what looks like the end of his coffee in a paper cup.
He finally drives off, taking me into town. I gaze out the window, and a few others get on a few stops away and head right to the back, casting stares as they walk by.
The dirt road slowly gives way to pavement, and the trees materialize into a dense, towering forest with miles of canopy stretching above.
Houses are scattered along the road—big houses, with large yards and trees that tower over them.
