4
I saw Ginny many
times each day, often at meals or at some of the night time activities with
Artie's gang. But my only real chance to
see her without the rest was in Mr. Eurich's class. His Social Studies class was part of the
reduced daily schedule we had, Monday through Friday. She sat in the desk next to me, and it would
be our one occasion to have private conversations. She was greatly stressed about how her
sister, Mary, was doing. She missed the
rest of her family and worried about how her father was. Apparently he was having some kind of
problems that she was helping him try to get through. She wasn't very specific about what it was.
Our classroom was
pretty much composed of the same students that it was on the day the storm
began. Arnold Romer was missing...we
didn't know if got fried or escaped, or had just wandered to another part of
the school. There were also a dozen or
so new to the classroom, reassigned from other places. The new students included Arletta Mierkey and
Lisa Carlton, whom I think wanted to be nearer her friend Sue Boschman.
It was a brief
study session, writing answers to questions about The Great War, and Mr.
Eurich, normally an attentive teacher, was in a bit of a fog. That happened more and more often. The event had changed more than just the
students. We tended to forget that it
wasn't just us that lost things. Mr.
Eurich had a wife and children of his own that he must have missed
tremendously.
"Ginny,
I...ah..." I tried to begin.
"Yeah, Lance?
What is it? Are you feeling all
right?" She looked at me if I was
ill or upset, and she was a nurse trying to diagnose what was wrong.
"No, I'm
fine. Really, I...ah...just wanted
to...ask you something." I was
sweating, and at the same time, my mouth was so dry I could hardly speak.
"Shoot!"
she said.
Shoot? Well, that was a word she used. It reminded him briefly that there were no
firearms at the school. Not even among
the staff. That was a great
relief...didn't need to worry about that.
"Well, you may know, if you've seen the scheduling, and the
posters, or heard others talking, you know, that there is something coming up
soon."
"What?" She thought for a minute, her face scrunched
up, her button nose wrinkling, her lip curled slightly. "Do you mean the dance? Is that what you're talking about?"
I was momentarily
relieved. At least I wouldn't have to
get that part out. "Yes! That's right! The dance! Are you thinking about going? Would you like to go with...."
She interrupted. "Oh, yeah, I'm going! I mean, like, what else is there to do? I mean, really! And I heard that Lynne Sweeney is going with
Randy Fitch! What is that all about? I mean, really! Why make this thing a date? Why not just go with your friends and have
fun? I certainly want to tie myself to
one person!"
I slumped. Not what I was hoping to hear. Speaking of shoot, I was shot out of the door
before I could even get the words out of mouth.
She looked at me slyly, as if she had just thought of a wonderful
secret. "You know what? I do know somebody's whose going to be there
that I'm dying to see on the dance floor!"
My heart skipped a
beat. The way she was looking at me, it
had to be..."Artie!" she exclaimed. "He can't use his parents as
an excuse to come! He'll have to
come! Boy! I can't wait to see him cut a rug!"
She put her hand
gently on my arm. "Oh, and you, my
good buddy. Can't forget me,
please? You HAVE to save a dance with
me, okay? Please? Pretty please? It would really hurt my feelings if you
didn't dance with me at least once.
Please?"
I swallowed
hard. "Sure. Of course.
I will might it a priority to fit you into my busy dance card."
She squeezed my
arm, and then turned to her own thoughts.
It was beginning
to slowly dawn on me that she might be more into Artie then she was me. Damn.
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