The Interview, Ch15:
Summer came to its end and school was about to start. But, before students could attend Pan Terra, we had to meet with Pan Terra’s school counselor, who by the way was my public school counselor and my anger management coach. She came to our homes which allowed us to feel more comfortable. The interviews were not given to weed out the undesirable student – I had a feeling that all of us attendees had some undesirable trait – but rather to address questions and concerns. ummer came to its end and school was about to start. But, before students could attend Pan Terra, we had to meet with Pan Terra’s school counselor, who by the way was my public school counselor and my anger management coach. She came to our homes which allowed us to feel more comfortable. The interviews were not given to weed out the undesirable student – I had a feeling that all of us attendees had some undesirable trait – but rather to address questions and concerns.
Pan Terra, Ch16:
Still blindfolded, my family guided me around the front of the school. When my grandma gently lifted her scarf away from my eyes, I gasped. I could barely comprehend what I saw. The landscape architecture was paradise. The trees thick with leaves and colorful ripening fruit, the flowers were in full bloom; a sea of plush green grass spread from one end to the other. It was like standing inside of a life size photograph if not for the light breeze swaying the smaller branches. The building that looked out over paradise was amazing in its own right. It looked nothing like the old strip mall with the Southwestern motif it once was.
New Beginning, Ch17:
Inside the student lobby, some kids were putting on their soft-soles while others were getting out their tool boxes, and almost all were chitchatting with each other. This was incredible. I stood leaning against the wall all by myself watching the room. A strange feeling came over me, a disequilibrium, out of balanced somehow. But no, this felt right, more like a changing, or a metamorphosis. Words could not adequately explain the feeling, only that it was happening and it felt good. It felt pure.❦As the room started to clear out, I made my way to my cubby. On top of my slippers I found a note written on real cotton stationary, nice. Not so nice. It was signed by Lucas that punk-bully. I couldn’t believe it. They allowed him into Pan Terra Academy after what he did to Allie. Now he wanted to apologize to me.
Lucas's Story, Ch18:
Lucas was born in California, but at age six he moved to Arizona with his father under tragic circumstances. Lucas’s mother died in a fatal drunk driving accident. She was the drunk driver. For years after her death Lucas felt responsible because he encouraged her to drink. He loved his mother, but Lucas liked her most when she drank. When she was intoxicated, she was generous and affectionate; she laughed at the silliest things. When she was dry, she was reserved, aloof and wanted to be by herself. πThe day Lucas and his father arrived back in California, loneliness arrived, too. He missed his friends and he especially missed The Peak where he was able to gaze at the planets and stars through those telescopes. Lucas missed everything from his former life until now.
Right of Passage, Ch19:
My journey began with a tour around the perimeter of the repository, or vault. A narrow pathway edged the room. As I passed each row, I glanced over some of the title and authors, but didn’t recognize any of them. Certainly some books were rare, but some didn’t look old at all; some looked fresh off the press. I wondered if they were smuggled in from the east or from the north. A few of the shelves were designed to hold plastic containers for disks. A disk box was accompanied by a book of the same title. It was no secret that certain books, periodicals, music, and movies started disappearing off the market and out of libraries at such a slow rate that many ICRA citizens weren’t aware what was happening. When the notion of censorship surfaced, many refused to believe it. My grandma called it a slow cold burn.
Lost then Found, Ch20:
Johnie strolls into the train depot trying to act natural, like he’d been there on previous occasions. The lobby looks larger than necessary. The ceiling is high and domed in the center with intricate designs. Johnie sees a young girl jump roping, singing: 1, 2, 3, Firewater was white mans gift. . ., as her mother sits on a wood carved bench reading the morning paper. With his pack strapped around his shoulders, Johnie exits the lobby into a cool early morning breeze. There are few cars parked along the curbs, but the street is devoid of people. He is so close to freedom, now. He can feel the surface of his skin contract causing the short hair at the back of his neck to bristle. He just has to make it across that one road to true freedom.
The End (for now), Ch21:
That’s enough for now.
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