Perfect Girl - Weebly

still not sure exactly what to say. What do you remember? I
hear Aunt Marty’s voice in my head. It doesn’t have to be
monumental. The music stops the moment I turn to face the
crowd.
“Mr. Arthur loved oatmeal.”
Everyone laughs. I blush purple.
“What I mean is, he ate hot oatmeal every morning and
it fogged his glasses and he went temporarily blind. Every
morning without fail. Which is what I’ve been thinking
about since he died.”
I inhale, blow it out, see Odessa’s eyes staring at me.
“I’ve been thinking how a person is formed by little
things, daily things they do and say that add up to a whole
being. That’s what people remember about you. And I
remember that Mr. Arthur never once said anything mean
or hateful about anyone in all the time he lived with us—
which is almost all my life.”
Celeste brushes a fallen leaf off her lap. Mrs. Latanza
clutches a handkerchief in her fist.
“I guess the biggest thing I remember about him was his
kindness to me, even though I sort of ignored him.”
Mom gazes at me and smiles. I smile back. Then I look
at all the faces in front of me. My whole town. My whole
life. I feel my knees wobble, and grab the podium to steady
myself. No one makes a sound. They wait for me to speak.
I wait for me to speak, too. But, all of a sudden, as if hit by
a huge ball of wool, I’m startled by a thought that pops into
178