Bleak Landing by Todd Terrie

Author:Todd, Terrie [Todd, Terrie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781542046336
Publisher: Waterfall Press
Published: 2017-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

I delivered the papers to Mr. Weinberger’s secretary right at noon and hurried to the cafeteria. It wasn’t hard to find Maxine, who was in the middle of an animated story and surrounded by eager listeners.

“Bridget!” She rushed over and embraced me right in front of everyone. “You here for lunch? Get some food and come join us!”

I grabbed a sandwich and a glass of milk and took a seat beside Maxine. None of the other girls looked familiar to me. One by one, they finished their meals and left the table.

“I only have a few minutes, Bridge. Catch me up!” Maxine curled her hands around a cup of coffee.

“The house is looking more and more like this place,” I said. “Like a busy factory, only fancier.” I told her about Mrs. Weinberger’s behavior and the conversation I’d overheard.

Maxine’s face registered immediate compassion. “Oh, that poor woman. If only she could muster the strength to join in on the war efforts. It would help her feel better, I’m sure.”

“Here’s the thing, Max. She’s not even Carlton’s real mother. I don’t get it.”

Maxine looked at me a moment. “Define real,” she said. “She adopted him, right?”

“I suppose. But she’s got children of her own that she’s neglecting . . .” My voice trailed off.

“I’m going to pray for her. For all of them.” Maxine took a swallow of her coffee. “I’m ashamed that I haven’t been doing so already. I mean, I’ve prayed for Carlton to be found, but I haven’t really thought about what all this was doing to his family.”

I wasn’t sure what good Maxine’s prayers would do, but I didn’t argue. I knew she prayed for me, too. She’d prayed that my hands would heal up without scars, and they had. She’d prayed that I would pass my difficult mathematics exam, and I had. She even prayed that I’d write back to Victor’s mother.

I had not.

We talked of other things until she needed to get back to her sewing machine, and I caught the street car back to the house.

That evening in my room, I could hardly believe my eyes when I read my next English composition assignment: Write a letter to someone, alive or dead, who has influenced your life—for better or for worse. The assignment will be returned so you can send it if you choose, but doing so is not a requirement for this course. Allow your words to flow freely and honestly as you express any thoughts you may have kept inside.

I wanted to laugh out loud but just shook my head. Maxine. I could picture her grinning that stupid grin, insisting this was God’s answer to her prayer. Well, maybe I’d just show her. The assignment didn’t mean I had to write the letter to Victor’s mother. I could name plenty of people who’d influenced my life either for better or for worse—including Maxine Ross herself, though at the moment I wasn’t entirely sure which category I’d put her in. I began a mental checklist.

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