Far From Here: A Novel by Eden Alson

Author:Eden Alson [Alson, Eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arbitrary Press
Published: 2023-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Two Weeks Before

When Fawn and I wake up, we hear the dinner bell ringing in the chapel. After the nap, I feel refreshed. Also starving.

The moment we arrive in the dining hall, Aunt Elizabeth berates us for being late, on top of the fact we’ve been missing all afternoon. She doesn’t haul off and slap us, probably because she witnessed what happened earlier, but she wags her finger at us as we stare at the floor and say, “Yes, Aunt Elizabeth,” over and over. When she finally lets us go, we rush to get in line at the food table.

Dinner today is just rice with two browning apple slices on the side. I hate brown rice, but I gobble it down as fast as I can since I missed lunch. I savor the dry apple slices, not talking to anyone. No one is talking to anyone today.

After getting some sleep I feel sharper, but everybody else still seems slow, ponderous. They eat their food in unison, like factory workers on an assembly line. Rice grains cover the table. No one brushes them up.

Sami is sitting fifteen people down from me on the other side of the table. She keeps looking over, and I keep ignoring her. A voice in my head tells me how mean it is to pretend she’s not right there, but I override it.

After I finish eating, I take my plate to the kitchen and scrape it clean, then leave it in the sink for whoever is on dish duty. I can see some of the little kids sitting in the corner, blowing bubbles with dish soap, using their hands. Aunt Glinda is keeping an eye on them from a chair over in the corner. Even if we were getting enough sleep she would still be sleeping through the day.

One of the kids, Genji, is wearing a shirt that once belonged to me. My mom got it a long time ago; it advertises a band called The Clash.

Back in the dining hall, I take my seat and pick at the edge of my thumbnail.

Something pelts against my shoulder. A balled-up napkin. I unball it and see writing inside.

Can we talk?

I look at Sami, who’s giving me a pleading look. She tosses me a pen. I scribble

Where?

on the napkin, roll it up and throw it back at her, along with the pen. A few moments later the balled-up napkin comes sailing back.

Bathroom?

Five minutes later I’m sitting on the closed toilet lid when Sami comes in. She keeps her distance, leaning against the door, just looking at me.

"What?"

She just kind of shrugs.

“Since you apparently don’t have anything to talk about, I guess I’m gonna leave,” I say. I get up but she blocks my way.

“Gracie,” she says, ”Can we please talk?"

I try to push my way past her, but she doesn’t move. “Fine, you’re the one who called this meeting, so talk.”

Nothing.

″That’s what I thought.” I try to leave again.

“Gracie, please, help me out here. What happened at the wedding?”

“Nothing.

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