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I put the short story collection into my school bag so there would be no chance of my forgetting it in the morning.
She'll like this idea, I thought. After all, she was the one who called her home Pretend Central, wasn't she?
I felt relieved, excited. I fit the definition of a best friend, after all.
I could help her.
5 All Alone at the Bates Motel
"I understand what you're suggesting," she told me on the bus after school. I had given her the book in the morning, and she had read the story during a study hall period. "I think it's dangerous."
She looked out the window. When I had awoken in the morning, it was the first thing that came into my mind, and the light of morning, the beginning of a new day, had a way of making exciting ideas a lot less exciting. It's as if the sunlight illuminates all the obstacles you missed in the darkness.
And as she said, the dangers.
"I know," I said in a loud whisper. "I'm sorry. I just hate seeing you upset and frightened and when this came to mind, I had to call you."
She spun around, her eyes narrow and cold.
"I didn't say I wouldn't do it. I just said it's dangerous. It might not be a bad idea."
She looked out again.
I could feel the blood rushing into my face. She would actually consider doing it? Of course, I would help in any way I could, but now that I had proposed it and she was actually considering it, fear and terror were like leeches on my body, sucking out my courage.
"Really?"
"We'll talk about it later. Can you come to my house tonight?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I'll come over right after dinner."
"Good," she said, and continued to look out the window. "Good," I heard her whisper.
What have I done? I suddenly wondered. Maybe I was giving her false hope. Maybe I was getting myself into deep trouble. If it all went wrong, my parents would be devastated. My brother would hate me, too. A part of me wanted to pull back, to say it was really just a silly idea, we couldn't do this, but another part of me was truly impressed that I had come up with something that might actually help Karen
. I had to firm up my nerve, be brave. This was no time to be a child or even a teenager. What was happening to Karen wasn't meant to happen to children and teenagers. It wasn't meant to happen to anyone, but adults were better equipped to handle it than we were, I thought.
Whether we liked it or not, Mr. Pearson had seized us by the neck and ripped us out of our youth. We would still laugh, we would have fun, but there would always be that quiet moment, that look between us that reminded us where we had been.-Funny, I was already thinking in terms of we when it was all really happening to Karen and not to me. I am her real friend, her sister, after all, I thought.
She rose when the bus pulled in front of the stop in Sandburg.
"See you later," she said. She patted the short story collection. "I'll hold on to this and keep thinking about it and how we could apply it."
"Okay."
She started away and then paused and returned.
"When you come over, Zipporah, you have to be sure you don't look strangely at Harry or talk to him any differently from the way you did before. We mustn't give him even a hint that I told you anything, understand?"
"Yes"
"If it's too hard, just ignore him, pretend he's not there. That's what I do half the time."
"Okay," I said.
Now I was really nervous again. I wanted to suggest she just come to my house, but I knew why she wanted me at hers. We had to plan and think of ways to do what we had to do. It was as if we were looking over a prospective battlefield.
She flashed a smile and started away. I watched her get off the bus and walk in the direction of her house. The bus continued toward Church Road. I didn't realize that I was trembling until the bus stopped in front of my house and I rose to get off. My legs wobbled. I sucked in my breath and hurried down the aisle.
