Had Shawna objectively assessed the tense exchange of words with her mother since leaving camp, she would have been forced to admit to the series of lies on her part. One of them was insisting she wasn't hungry. Now, with a long ride home ahead of her, Shawna wished she had skipped the hunger strike and vented her stubbornness some other way.
Her mother had invited her to talk about what happened last night, and she had coldly refused. In reality, there was a part of Shawna that yearned to tell her mother everything: her clever escape from the cabin; the halting experiment with marijuana and her stupidity at wasting most of a joint; the approval she felt from Destiny; the raw excitement, the rush of imminent danger, and the ultimate relief she sensed in the space of only a few minutes. These were the things she would tell a trusted friend about last night. Shawna wanted her mom to be a friend with whom she could share her experience without fear of judgment. But she was afraid her mom would look past the experience to deal with the wrong like a mother, not like a friend. So Shawna kept it all inside.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Looking to Kill
Chako had driven in and out of several neighborhoods looking for the address Eugene (Rattler) scribbled down from the phone book. "There it is," Eugene said. He was darkly pleased at the number of windows facing the street. It would be impossible, he determined, to pump a full clip from his .45 into the house without hitting someone. Either Jon Van Home, his wife, Stephanie, or maybe even a kid—it didn't really matter to Rattler. Somebody in this house was going to pay for messing with the De Sotos at the rec center.
Seeing the gun, Chako said, "It's broad daylight, man. There are people on the street. This is bad timing, dude." Just then, a boy was walking from the targeted house to the driveway. It had to be Van Horne's kid, Eugene decided. A lethal burst from the .45 and the kid wouldn't have a chance. And Jon Van Horne—wherever he was—would wish to God he had never crossed or humiliated the De Sotos. But Chako's warning made sense. He would do the deed someday soon, but not with the whole neighborhood watching.
Seeing the gun, Chako said, "It's broad daylight, man. There are people on the street. This is bad timing, dude." Just then, a boy was walking from the targeted house to the driveway. It had to be Van Horne's kid, Eugene decided. A lethal burst from the .45 and the kid wouldn't have a chance. And Jon Van Horne—wherever he was—would wish to God he had never crossed or humiliated the De Sotos. But Chako's warning made sense. He would do the deed someday soon, but not with the whole neighborhood watching.
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