When It All Comes Down to Dust (Phoenix Noir Book 3) (18 page)

“Neat,” Laura said when he told her about it.

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L
aura’s parents were called into another meeting at the school. Her father was at work, so her mother went.

Mrs. Cole, the math teacher, had looked at Laura’s notebook, trying to see where Laura was going wrong in her understanding of math, and had seen the rhyme Laura had written about her.

“It’s pretty funny, and I’m not annoyed about her making fun of me,” Mrs. Cole said. “I’m not taking it personally. But what I
am
annoyed about is the fact that she’s so glib about it. I think what she wrote shows that she’s not
failing
to learn, but rather that she’s not even
trying
to learn, and that she seems quite happy about it.”

Laura sat there and said nothing. Her mother looked at her. “Is that true? Is that how you feel?”

Laura shrugged.

“I asked you a question,” her mother said. “Answer it.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, that’s not how I feel.”

“Then how do you feel, Laura?” Mrs. Cole said.

Laura shrugged.

“Don’t sit there and ignore Mrs. Cole,” her mother said.

“I’m not ignoring her.”

“You are. She asked you how you feel.”

“How I feel about what?”

“About the fact that you’re not learning anything,” Mrs. Cole said.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?” Mrs. Cole said.

“I guess I don’t care.”

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life,” Laura’s mother said as she drove Laura home. “Do you have any respect for anyone?”

“What’s respect got to do with it?”

“Respect has everything to do with it. Christ, to sit there and tell your teacher that you don’t care that you’re not learning anything in her class...”

“I was answering her question, and I was telling the truth. How is that disrespectful? Would it be more respectful if I lied to her?”

“Don’t talk to me as if you’re talking in one of your stupid debates.”

“What’s stupid about them? You’re the one that’s stupid.”

“Oh, that got a reaction, didn’t it? You’re failing all your classes and you don’t care, but you care about your stupid debate club.”

“I’m not failing all my classes. I’m not failing English.”

“Probably because your stupid English teacher runs the stupid debate club, so he lets you pass.”

“I can fail English as well if you like.”

“You’re making threats now? Okay, Laura.”

“What do you mean, ‘okay’?”

Her mother didn’t answer. Instead, she began singing a song by Edison Lighthouse, “Love Grows Where My Rosemary Goes.” She sang the chorus over and over again the rest of the way home, and continued to sing it as they left the car and went up to their apartment.

Laura’s father wasn’t home yet. She started to go to her room, but her mother, still singing, pushed her towards the living room, then stopped singing and said, “Sit down.”

Laura sat on the couch. “Why?”

“I don’t answer to you, Laura.”

Her mother picked up the phone book that sat by the phone, and looked up a number.

“Who are you calling?”

“I don’t answer to you, Laura.”

Her mother dialed, waited, got an answer. “May I speak with Mr. Crossan, please?” She waited. “Oh, he’s not? May I leave him a message? My name is Patricia Ponto. My daughter is Laura Ponto, and I believe she’s representing the school against another school tomorrow in a debate that Mr. Crossan has arranged.”

“Mom –” Laura said.

“No, I don’t know which school they’re debating against. I don’t see that it matters. Please let Mr. Crossan know that Laura won’t be there tomorrow. No, you may not ask why not. Just see that he gets the message.” She hung up. Then she looked at Laura. “
Now
you can go to your room.”

Laura just sat there, not believing it for a second, and then feeling the tears come out as the belief went in.

She looked at her mother and was going to argue, going to plead, and then she realized she wasn’t willing to do that, and knew it wouldn’t make any difference if she did.

What she said was, “I might miss the debate, but at least I didn’t lose my business and lose my house.”

“Shut your mouth, you stupid little bitch –” Her mother was coming towards her.

“If you fucking touch me, I’ll tell everybody what you used to make me do with your friends.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” her mother said. She stopped her advance and sat down.

“Yeah, you do. And I’ll tell everybody.”

“You think they’d believe you?”

“I don’t care. I’ll tell them anyway.” Laura got up and went to her room and slammed the door.

She sat on her bed and wondered if her mother would be scared enough to change her mind and let her take part in the debate. She wondered if her mother would realize that she was bluffing, that she didn’t want people to know what had happened any more than her mother did.

She heard the phone ring, and somehow knew it was Mr. Crossan. She listened at the door, heard her mother answer it.

“This is she. Yes, hello. Yes, I’m afraid that’s correct. I made the decision because my daughter really isn’t trying in school, and I’m afraid that this is the only way to discipline her. Yes, I understand that, Mr. Crossan, but I’m sure you can find another student to take her place. Well, if she’s such a brilliant child, don’t you think it’s a matter of serious concern that she’s failing in every class but yours? Look, I’m sorry, but my responsibility is to my daughter, not to your debate team. I’m sorry, but no. Have a nice weekend, and good luck with the debate.”

Laura didn’t leave her room that evening, except to use the bathroom. Neither of her parents came to her room. She heard them eat dinner, but neither of them tried to find out if she wanted any. It was as if she didn’t exist.

She didn’t sleep at all that night. She looked at the notes she’d made for the speech she’d planned to give, and she imagined herself giving it. She tried to sleep, and couldn’t, tried to read, and couldn’t, and went back to her notes. By the time the sun rose, she had the speech completely prepared and memorized as though it had been written.

She didn’t feel tired. She went to the bathroom, took a shower, then put on a robe, went to the kitchen and ate toast and cereal. She put on the clothes she’d planned to wear to the debate, and then she knocked on the door of her parents’ room.

“Yeah?” her father called in a sleepy voice.

Laura went into the room. Her parents lay in bed, her mother wearing pajamas, her father wearing a T-shirt and underwear.

“I’m going to the debate,” Laura said. “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to tell everybody what used to happen.”

Her mother looked at her father. “See? I told you.”

“Is this your new thing, making threats?” her father said. “Let me show you a threat –” He started to get out of bed, and Laura turned and ran. By the time he reached the bedroom door, she was out of the apartment.

She took the bus to her school. It was ten o’clock on a Saturday morning, two hours before the debate was to start, so nobody was there, and the doors were locked. She put her bag down on the hot asphalt in the shade of a palm tree, and sat on it.

Less than an hour later, Mr. Crossan’s car pulled into the parking lot. Laura stood up, picked up her bag, and walked towards him.

“Hi, there,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Did your mom change her mind?”

“Yeah –” she began, and then stopped. She couldn’t lie to him. “No. I just came anyway.”

Mr. Crossan unlocked the main door, and they went inside. “Does she know you’re here?” he said as they walked to his classroom.

“Yeah. I told her just before I left.”

“And she said it was okay?”

“No. I just left.”

“I see.”

“Can I still debate?”

He looked at her and shook his head. “Laura...”

“Why can’t I? You wanted me to. You picked me for the team.”

“Laura...”

“I’m the best. You won’t win if you don’t have me.”

“Laura, listen. Yes, I want you to debate. Yes, I picked you for the team. And yes, you are the best. Yes, we’re less likely to win without you, though you’re certainly not the only good debater we have. But if we can’t win without you today, then we’ll just have to lose.”

Laura held back the tears, but she couldn’t keep her voice from quivering, and that made her even angrier. “Why?”

“Because I talked with your mother yesterday, and she was adamant that you weren’t allowed to debate today. I don’t know how many laws I’d be breaking if I let you speak today. In fact, I’m probably breaking some by not calling your mother or driving you home right now.”

Laura didn’t say anything.

“If I call your mother, will she agree to let you take part?”

“I don’t know. She might.”

“Do you want me to call her?”

Laura shook her head.

“I really don’t know what to do here.”

“Are you going to let people in the audience get up and speak? Could I do that?”

“Of course we are, and of course you can’t. You’re not listening to me, Laura. Your mother said you weren’t allowed to debate today. Period. And she gave a convincing reason why. And, let’s face it, if you’d listened to what I told you about your grades, and taken it seriously, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Are you going to call her or take me home?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t, even though I should. I’m going to forget that I saw you today.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Now you’d better get out of here and let me start forgetting.”

“Can’t I stay for the debate? Just to watch?”

“You really don’t listen. The only reason I’m not calling your mother or taking you home right now is that I don’t buy what your mother says. I don’t believe her reasons, and, even if I did, I don’t agree with what she’s doing. But she has the law on her side, so if you repeat what I just said, I’ll deny it, and if anybody sees you here I’ll have to pick up the phone and tell her to come and get you.”

Laura walked out of the room. As she walked along the hallway, she met a young woman she hadn’t seen before.

“Hi,” the woman said. “Can you tell me which room belongs to Mr. Crossan?”

“Room 28.” Laura wondered if this was Mr. Crossan’s girlfriend.

“Thanks.” She held out her hand. “I’m Miss Stewart. What’s your name?”

Laura shook the hand. “Laura Ponto.”

“Ah. You’ll be my arch-enemy today. You’re going to be debating my students. Mr. Crossan says you’re very good.”

“I’m not debating today.”

“Oh, why not? I was looking forward to hearing you.”

There was something about these words, coming from a pretty, friendly woman Laura had never met before, that made it impossible for her to pretend that she was all right. She stood there and began to cry.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Miss Stewart said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Laura shook her head and hurried out into the sunshine.

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C
arrie Stewart walked into Eric Crossan’s classroom. “Hey, I just met Laura Ponto. She walked out in tears.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing that I did, if that’s what you’re thinking. Her mother’s mad at her, so she won’t let her debate. She came here anyway and tried to talk me into letting her do it, and I told her I couldn’t.”

“Of course you couldn’t. Poor girl... With most of my kids, the real stupid, bratty behavior comes from the parents.” She touched Eric’s arm, and he almost shivered. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “But something tells me Laura’s not going to be.”

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S
he didn’t know what to do now, where to go. She had no real friends, just people she talked to at school, but nobody she could call. And everybody she knew at school would be at the debate. There was nobody to call and nobody to go to but her parents, and they were nobody to her.

She rode a bus down Seventh Avenue, got off at Encanto, and walked to the park. As she walked, she began to cry again, the heat drying the tears from her face almost as quickly as a handkerchief would have. As she walked, Frank saw her from his car.

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H
e had just left the park, was driving on the street, and he saw her. He saw her walking on the hot sidewalk, saw the tears, saw that she was alone. He saw it all as he drove past her. He turned onto Seventh Avenue and headed north, but he was still seeing the tears and the aloneness. He drove back to the park.

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L
aura had decided to go to the park just so she could go someplace, but, now that she was in the park, she didn’t know what to do there.

She walked around, looking at all the families hanging out. She felt the sun burning her scalp, so she looked for some shade, sat down under a tree. She knew a lot of people complained about the non-native trees that were planted in the city, by the city, but Laura was glad. If the only trees were cactus, there wouldn’t be any parks you could go to, there wouldn’t be anywhere to escape from the sun. She lay back, stretched out on the grass, looking at the blue of the sky though the green of the leaves.

She felt the heat of the grass and earth she was lying on, and she thought about the air-conditioning in her school, how it was always too cold for her. She thought about Mr. Crossan’s classroom, and she wondered how the debate was going. She wondered how many people from the other school would come along to support their classmates. She pictured herself winning them over to her side, making them laugh at her jokes and at the lameness of their friends’ arguments. She wondered who Mr. Crossan had substituted in her place. She imagined seeing him on Monday morning, him telling her how humiliating their defeat had been, how they all knew that they couldn’t win without her.

She didn’t see Frank walking towards her.

“Hey, there,” he said. “Excuse me...”

She raised her head from the ground and saw him, standing a few feet away, a man wearing jeans and a T-shirt and sneakers, short dark hair, quite handsome, smiling at her.