The Grave Artist by Paula Lynn Johnson

Author:Paula Lynn Johnson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-03-12T07:00:00+00:00

We take my car to Millstone Junior College after school. Although Gollum drives, he has yet to buy his own set of wheels.

“Money’s tight,” he explains on the ride over. “My Mom doesn’t make much at the nursing home. Plus she needs to send what she can to my grandparents.”

“And your grandparents live –?”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “You’re wondering where my family’s from, aren’t you? About my race? I was wondering when you were going to ask about that.”

A blush floods my face. “I’m sorry. I felt stupid.”

“Don’t worry about it. So let me ask you: what do you think I am?”

I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Nothing like being exposed as the silly white girl you are. Neil Skinner. Yeah, like the name really helps.

“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re half –” I try to surreptitiously glance at him.

“Half’s good,” he says, voice rich with enjoyment.

“Black?”

“No.”

“Asian?”

“Depends on who you ask. I’ll give you a hint: South Pacific.”

I scrunch my face in thought. “Pacific Islander?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner! But now for the bonus question: which island?” He clicks his tongue to mimic the second hand on a clock, while inwardly, I die. “And her time has run out, folks. Ladies and gentleman, the answer is: Samoa!”

I rack my brain. Where is Samoa, exactly?

“So my Dad’s white,” Gollum continues. “He was in the army, stationed in the Pacific. My Mom’s full Samoan, lived on the island her whole life. They met, fell in love, everything was paradise. Then, after his tour was up, they moved back to the States, got married, and had me. Suddenly, it was paradise lost.” He clears his throat. “Dad bailed when I was a toddler, and we haven’t seen much of him since. Now he lives in Ohio with his second wife and their kids. How crazy is that?”

“You’re just a generally crazy guy, Gollum,” I say, parking the car. I’m playing it cool, but this is sensitive territory, and I’m not sure how to delve in. Maybe talking about his parents is no big deal to Gollum. Or maybe he’s like me, and talking about them is like tugging a cut open at the seams. “So, we’re here.”

As we walk together towards the Art Department, Gollum catches my hand in a loose swing. It feels innocent and childlike, like a brother and sister traipsing through the park. But our interlaced fingers, our close skin –it’s also intimate, possessive. Feels great, too. I hope I’m not misreading anything.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.