The Outside of a Horse by Ginny Rorby

Author:Ginny Rorby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2010-04-30T00:00:00+00:00

25

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 14

I’m in science when the announcement comes over the speaker in the classroom for me to come to the office.

“Your mother called,” the counselor says when I go to the desk.

It always makes my stomach flutter when someone says that, as if all this time Momma has just been away and now she’s back and looking for me. I guess I look at her blankly.

“From the bank,” she says.

“Okay.”

“She needs you to come over there.”

“Right now?”

The woman nods, sadly, like she knows what this is about but isn’t going to tell me. Doesn’t matter. I’ve already guessed it has something to do with Dad. If Jeffy was sick at the sitter’s, Sondra would have just left work, not called me.

“I’ve sent for someone to drive you,” the counselor says.

I don’t know what I’m going to find when I get there, so I don’t want anyone from school with me. “I’d rather walk.”

“Someone has to drive you over. It will be about five minutes. Why don’t you wait there.” She points to one of the chairs lined against the wall.

Not much sense in arguing, so I shrug and sit down. The hand on the clock clicks off another minute. “May I run to the restroom first?”

“Of course.”

I go out of the office, around the corner, and down the hall. The middle school is attached to the Fort Bragg Senior Center. If I go through their building, out the door into the parking lot, they won’t be able to see me from the office.

Sondra’s bank is at the other end of town, but Fort Bragg is only about two miles long end to end. I start off slowly so as not to draw attention to myself, cut down a side street in case whoever is supposed to drive me tries to find me, then start to jog.

When I get to the bank I go in from the employee parking lot side of the building. It’s not a door many customers use, so no one is looking in my direction. Sondra’s on her stool behind the counter. She has a tissue held to her nose and her closed sign is up. One of the other tellers is standing beside her; he’s patting her shoulder. The two loan officers are on the other side of the lobby standing at the windows that overlook the other parking lot. The bank manager is in his office doorway, also looking out the windows, his arms crossed over his big stomach.

I might as well have had the school band with me. When I reach the center of the lobby everyone turns to look at me. I have a moment to wonder what’s going on before I see Dad’s head skim past the windows.

The manager comes toward me, takes my arm, and walks me back outside. “If you can calm him down and get him to go home, I won’t call the police. Otherwise, I have to.”

“What’s he doing here?”

The manager shakes his head. “I’m not sure. He came in shouting that your mother was having an affair with Ronald.

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