583495793235
Create successful ePaper yourself
Turn your PDF publications into a flip-book with our unique Google optimized e-Paper software.
LIFE IS A GIFT<br />
THE NEXT MORNING I wake to yelling. At first I think it’s Olly’s family again, but the<br />
sound is too close. It’s my mom. I’ve never heard her voice raised before.<br />
“How could you do this? How could you let a stranger in here?”<br />
I can’t hear Carla’s response. I open the bedroom door quietly and tiptoe out onto the<br />
landing. Carla’s standing at the foot of the stairs. My mom is smaller than her in every<br />
way, but you wouldn’t know it from the way Carla’s shrinking away from her.<br />
I can’t let Carla get blamed for this. I fly down the stairs.<br />
“Did something happen? Is she sick?” Carla catches my arm, pats my face, her eyes<br />
scanning my body for signs of trouble.<br />
“She went outside. Because of him. Because of you.” She turns to face me. “She put her<br />
life at risk and she’s been lying to me for weeks.”<br />
She turns back to Carla. “You’re fired.”<br />
“No, please, Mom. It wasn’t her fault.”<br />
She cuts me off with a hand. “Not only her fault, you mean. It was your fault, too.”<br />
“I’m sorry,” I say, but it has no effect on her.<br />
“So am I. Carla, pack your things and go.”<br />
I’m desperate now. I can’t imagine my life without Carla in it. “Please, Mom, please. It<br />
won’t happen again.”<br />
“Of course it won’t.” She says it with absolute certainty.<br />
Carla starts up the stairs without a word.<br />
Mom and I spend the next half hour watching Carla pack. She has reading glasses and<br />
pens and clipboards in almost every room.<br />
I don’t bother to wipe away my tears because they just keep coming. Mom holds herself<br />
more rigid than I’ve ever seen her. When we finally get to my room I give Carla my copy<br />
of Flowers for Algernon. She looks at me and smiles.<br />
“Isn’t this book going to make me cry?” she asks.<br />
“Probably.”<br />
She pulls the book close to her bosom and holds it there and doesn’t take her eyes off<br />
me.<br />
“You be brave now, Madeline.” I run into her arms. She drops her medical bag and the<br />
book and holds me tight.<br />
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.<br />
She squeezes me even tighter. “It’s not your fault. Life is a gift. Don’t forget to live it.”<br />
Her voice is fierce.