Far-Flung Read Free Page A

then continued. “No, really. I’m sorry. But we’ve got to get you out of here.”
    “What do you mean?” I said. “I like this job.”
    “Elaine, let’s be serious. You can’t be a Pilgrim for the rest of your life. Now, the reason I brought Henry along was so he could see you. He’s been very good about helping Daria with her new career, and I’m sure he could do the same for you. I do wish you weren’t wearing that dress. And the wimple! Can you take that off, so he can at least see your hair?”
    “No,” I said. “It’s a costume. I’ve got to wear it as long as I’m on the grounds.”
    “What if we went out to the car? Does the parking lot count?”
    I suddenly realized how annoying my mother was, so I said, “What’s the story with Henry?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Are you sleeping with him?”
    “Elaine!” my mother said. “What kind of question is that?”
    “Who is he? Where did you find him? He looks like a creep.”
    “I beg your pardon,” my mother said. “But Henry is not a creep. Henry has helped turn my life around. I’d still be sitting in that roach-infested apartment if Henry hadn’t taken an interest in me.”
    “That’s another thing,” I said. “Thanks for selling the apartment. What happened to all my stuff? Did you just toss it down the incinerator?”
    My mother laid down her wooden fork and looked at me for a second. “You know, Elaine,” she finally said, “just because you’re having a little trouble shifting your life into first gear doesn’t mean you have to take your frustration out on me. I am no longer the emotional quicker-picker-upper I once was. I am an adult woman pursuing her own life. I had a perfect right to do everything I’ve done, and if you don’t approve, that’s too bad. And I didn’t toss your ‘stuff’ in the incinerator. I am paying for it to be stored in a climate controlled, mildew-free warehouse in Long Island City. So spare me.”
    I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to get up and walk out, but something about the Pilgrim costume prohibited a dramatic exit. So I just sat there, and picked at the American cheese slices in my salad.
    My mother sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m a little on edge. I still get anxious about performing.”
    I still didn’t say anything. I felt a little like I felt after I took the aqua pill Daria gave me: I had to concentrate hard to remember that I was myself, sitting there.
    “Are you O.K.?” my mother asked. “Are you sure you aren’t ill? Maybe you caught something in Africa. They have some terrible diseases over there, you know. Megan Foster was telling me about her sister who got bit by some fish and started to grow scales. Perhaps you should see a doctor? Are you taking vitamins?”
    “I’m fine,” I said. “I have to get back to work. It was nice to see you. Good luck with your performance.”
    “Oh, darling,” my mother said. “Don’t sulk. I said I was sorry. Is this some kind of Moonie thing? Have you been brainwashed?”
    This time I didn’t answer. I just stood up and walked out.
    When I got to the Bakery I felt sick. I sat down in the back room, but the heat from the ovens made me feel worse, so I went out and sat on the shaded back stoop. Becky looked out the Dutch door. “What happened? Are you all right?” she asked.
    “I feel funny,” I said.
    “You look terrible.”
    I stood up, but I felt dizzy, so I sat down again.
    “Why don’t you go home?” Becky said. “Take the afternoon off. Just relax.”
    When I arrived at Curly’s and Louisa’s, my key wouldn’t fit in the lock. Someone had changed it. I knocked on the door. I knew someone was home because I could hear the radio playing. I kept knocking, and after a while, I used my foot too.
    Louisa opened the door, but only wide enough so she could see me. She had the chain fastened. “Go away,” she said. So she did speak English.
    “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Why did you