Read Online Barbara Samuel by A Piece of Heaven - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A Piece of Heaven
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work before she could move in—it was over two hundred years old, after all, and had been sorely neglected—Joy had not yet had a chance to stay there. It wasn’t a huge place—living room and dining room, a long narrow kitchen, two bedrooms with a bath between, but it gave the two of them space enough that they could each have some privacy and escape options.
Before school started, they shopped a little. While they were buying the basics—spiral notebooks (black) and pens and a backpack (black)—Joy asked about school clothes. Her father had sent money for them—to her, not Luna—and she wanted to know the best place to go.
They were standing in the school supplies aisle atWal-Mart, surrounded by packages of pens and notebooks with pictures of tigers and cartoon characters Luna didn’t recognize. She reached for a folder with a big-eyed girl and a faintly exotic look to her, remembering yellow folders with line drawings of sports figures. Had there even been a choice then? She couldn’t remember. “Who is this?” she asked.
“Mom.” It was a faintly aggrieved tone that asked what cave she’d been living in. “That’s Sailor Moon.”
“Oh! I’ve heard of her.” She flashed her daughter a smile and put the folder back. “You’ll need new clothes, I’m sure—I bet you don’t have much that’s warm, do you?”
“Not really. How long till I need them?”
“A month, maybe two, depending on how soon it snows.” She hesitated, wondering if this might also fall into the clueless category, but how much did certain things ever change? “Maybe it would be better if you waited until after the first week of school is over, so you can see what everybody else is wearing. They might have different styles than what’s popular in Atlanta.”
Joy played with the stud beneath her lower lip, sucking it in, then letting it go as she thought about it. Luna worried that Joy might take it the wrong way—she was big on “no game playing,” as she called it. Her weird hair, multiple piercings, and the henna tattoos she drew around her wrists and ankles were a badge of honor. An identity flag.
Which Luna understood in a weird way. She’d grown up in the seventies, after all. Not exactly a normal decade.
Joy let go of the stud. “Good idea. Not,” she hastened to add, “that I’ll change anything. But I might want to see, just in case they’re wearing something good.”
Her first day of school was Luna’s first day back towork—August 28. They’d registered the Thursday before, and Joy had waved to a kid who’d lived next door to the old apartment. An auspicious sign, and one that seemed to make Joy feel pretty comfortable.
They shared a part of the walk that first day, since Luna had to be at work at seven. Although she didn’t kid herself that this would be a long-term bonding ritual, it was still pretty good. The morning was bright and cool. Joy wore her fishnet shirt (black) with a red tank beneath it, a pair of bell-bottom jeans (black) that covered her feet in their combat boots (black), and a flowered scarf over her head. She looked as beautiful as a blue jay against the backdrop of pale green fields.
“Are you nervous?” Luna asked. She herself was wearing jeans and a simple scoop-neck T-shirt and walking sandals. She carried her work smock over her shoulder so it wouldn’t get sweaty.
“Kinda.”
“If you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad!” She shrugged. “At least this isn’t dangerous. In Atlanta, sometimes it was.”
“It was?”
Joy widened her eyes. “Yeah,” she said in that “duh” voice. “Don’t you read the papers? The most dangerous kids in the country are spoiled little rich boys with access to guns.”
Luna chuckled. “I forgot.” She paused. “Um … don’t underestimate the gangs here. They might not be spoiled little rich boys, but they’ve got their own set of angers.”
“Mom.”
“What?” She didn’t grow up
Before school started, they shopped a little. While they were buying the basics—spiral notebooks (black) and pens and a backpack (black)—Joy asked about school clothes. Her father had sent money for them—to her, not Luna—and she wanted to know the best place to go.
They were standing in the school supplies aisle atWal-Mart, surrounded by packages of pens and notebooks with pictures of tigers and cartoon characters Luna didn’t recognize. She reached for a folder with a big-eyed girl and a faintly exotic look to her, remembering yellow folders with line drawings of sports figures. Had there even been a choice then? She couldn’t remember. “Who is this?” she asked.
“Mom.” It was a faintly aggrieved tone that asked what cave she’d been living in. “That’s Sailor Moon.”
“Oh! I’ve heard of her.” She flashed her daughter a smile and put the folder back. “You’ll need new clothes, I’m sure—I bet you don’t have much that’s warm, do you?”
“Not really. How long till I need them?”
“A month, maybe two, depending on how soon it snows.” She hesitated, wondering if this might also fall into the clueless category, but how much did certain things ever change? “Maybe it would be better if you waited until after the first week of school is over, so you can see what everybody else is wearing. They might have different styles than what’s popular in Atlanta.”
Joy played with the stud beneath her lower lip, sucking it in, then letting it go as she thought about it. Luna worried that Joy might take it the wrong way—she was big on “no game playing,” as she called it. Her weird hair, multiple piercings, and the henna tattoos she drew around her wrists and ankles were a badge of honor. An identity flag.
Which Luna understood in a weird way. She’d grown up in the seventies, after all. Not exactly a normal decade.
Joy let go of the stud. “Good idea. Not,” she hastened to add, “that I’ll change anything. But I might want to see, just in case they’re wearing something good.”
Her first day of school was Luna’s first day back towork—August 28. They’d registered the Thursday before, and Joy had waved to a kid who’d lived next door to the old apartment. An auspicious sign, and one that seemed to make Joy feel pretty comfortable.
They shared a part of the walk that first day, since Luna had to be at work at seven. Although she didn’t kid herself that this would be a long-term bonding ritual, it was still pretty good. The morning was bright and cool. Joy wore her fishnet shirt (black) with a red tank beneath it, a pair of bell-bottom jeans (black) that covered her feet in their combat boots (black), and a flowered scarf over her head. She looked as beautiful as a blue jay against the backdrop of pale green fields.
“Are you nervous?” Luna asked. She herself was wearing jeans and a simple scoop-neck T-shirt and walking sandals. She carried her work smock over her shoulder so it wouldn’t get sweaty.
“Kinda.”
“If you need me, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad!” She shrugged. “At least this isn’t dangerous. In Atlanta, sometimes it was.”
“It was?”
Joy widened her eyes. “Yeah,” she said in that “duh” voice. “Don’t you read the papers? The most dangerous kids in the country are spoiled little rich boys with access to guns.”
Luna chuckled. “I forgot.” She paused. “Um … don’t underestimate the gangs here. They might not be spoiled little rich boys, but they’ve got their own set of angers.”
“Mom.”
“What?” She didn’t grow up
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