Taji's Syndrome Read Free

wanted and that they would be moving to Seattle around Christmas.
    Traffic was heavier than she had expected, and Susan was almost late to Kevin’s school, which troubled her. She had been accused of being overprotective, but the constant reminders in the mail and on grocery bags and in the news of missing children made her vigilant, and she dreaded the thought of Kevin standing alone in front of his school, the potential target of any maniac who might come along.
    “You’re overreacting,” she told herself aloud. “You get this way when you’re pregnant, remember? It isn’t good for the kids to see you like this. It isn’t good for the baby. Relax.” She started doing the anti-stress exercises her nurse had recommended the year before, and it helped some. At last she made the turn in front of the school and was relieved to see that Miss Brewer was standing beside Kevin and waving at her.
    “Sorry I’m late,” Susan called as she came to a stop and leaned over to open the door. “It’s been—”
    “It’s fine, Missus Ross,” said Miss Brewer. “We had a good talk, didn’t we, Kevin.”
    “Yes, Miss Brewer,” Kevin said in a subdued voice as he got into the car.
    “What do you say to Miss Brewer for waiting with you?” Susan asked before she closed the door.
    “Thank you, Miss Brewer,” said Kevin without enthusiasm.
    “You’re welcome, Kevin,” she said as if she were not aware of his disinterest. “Drive carefully, Missus Ross,” she added, as she stepped back from the car.
    “She smells like mothballs,” Kevin remarked as they drove away.
    “Kevin, that’s not a nice thing to say,” Susan protested.
    “Well she does,” Kevin insisted, then looked around. “You made liverwurst!”
    “And tuna fish for your brother,” she added, smiling at his obvious pleasure. And, she added to herself, a simple lettuce and cucumber salad for her since she had to watch her weight for the next six months.
    She was one hundred one days pregnant.

—Gail Harmmon—

    WHEN Eric met her after swim practice, Gail was pleased and puzzled at once. “Where’s Dad?” she asked her older brother as she bounced out of the gym.
    “Still in line for gas, I guess.” Eric had four books under his arm and even though he had been wearing contact lenses for three years, he still looked as if he were wearing glasses. “Mom asked me to meet you.”
    “I can walk home on my own,” declared Gail, with the defensive independence of her almost-thirteen years. “I’m not exactly a kid.”
    “You know what Mom’s like,” said Eric, as the only explanation for their situation.
    “Sure; and she’s been worse since she went back to work.” They had fallen into step together, prepared to walk the mile and a half home, though pedestrians were not that common a sight in the San Fernando Valley, especially now that there were so many smog alerts.
    “She’s worried, that’s all,” said Eric, frowning. “She’s a little guilty, too. You know what happened to Erin’s kids—she thinks the same thing’s going to happen to us.”
    “That’s silly.” They stopped at a crosswalk and waited for a break in the stream of cars to cross. “Jenny got into junior-crack because of that guy from Texas. I mean, it was legal, a look-alike, not the real thing, being manufactured and all.” She tossed her head, her short brown hair shining in the ruddy afternoon haze. “Dad gave me this ghoully lecture about all the designer drugs. He’s worse than the cops that come to the school.”
    Eric cleared his throat. “Well?”
    “Well what?” she challenged. Until two years ago she had idolized her brilliant older brother, but much of that glamor had faded as she began to shine in school sports.
    “Is there any reason they should worry?” Eric asked in his usual oblique style.
    “You mean do I mess with drugs? Of course not.” Her scorn was tremendous and she increased her already long stride to emphasize her contempt for