Rodriguez residence… Behind the voice was a noise that sounded rather like a jackhammer, if jackhammers could sing. The phone at the other end rang, and after a couple of rings someone picked up. She went to the wall by the doorway into the dining room and picked up the receiver of the kitchen phone. Then she glanced at the refrigerator again. I will die of hunger before then, Nita said to herself. It was at least half an hour before the time her dad usually shut his florist s shop on Fridays and came home to pick up whoever wanted to go along to help do the shopping. She rummaged around among various nondescript canned goods, but there was no soup or ravioli or any of the faster foods she favored just beans and other canned vegetables, things that would need a lot of work to make them edible. She opened a cupboard over the counter, pulled down a peanut butter jar, and saw that the jar had been scraped almost clear inside. I hate those, Nita muttered, wrapping up the bread again. Nita went over to the bread box on the counter, thinking that at least she could make a sandwich but inside the bread box was only a crumpled-up bread wrapper, which, she saw when she opened it, contained one rather stale slice of bread between two heel pieces. It was the end of the week, and in her family, shopping was something that happened after her dad got home on Fridays. Make that freedom and starvation, Nita said under her breath, and shut the refrigerator door. Half a quart of milk and half a stick of butter some small, unidentifiable pieces of cheese bundled up in plastic wrap, at least a couple of them turning green or blue because of the presence of other life-forms way back in a corner, a plastic-bagged head of lettuce that had seen better days, probably several weeks ago and a last slice of frozen pizza that someone, probably her sister, Dairine, had left in the fridge on a plate without wrapping it, and which was now desiccated enough to curl up at the edges. Freedom and food, Nita said then, and opened the refrigerator and stuck her head into it to see what was there to eat.
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Freedom! Free at last! And she actually did a small impromptu dance in the middle of the kitchen at the sheer pleasure of the concept of two weeks off from school… though the dancing lasted only until her stomach suddenly growled.
Freedom! she said to no one in particular as she pulled off her jacket and tossed it through the kitchen door onto the back of one of the dining room chairs. She pushed the door shut again, then struggled briefly to get her backpack off, flinging it onto the kitchen counter.
The back door blew back and slammed against the stairwell wall behind her in a sudden gust of wind, but she didn t care. Nita Callahan jogged up her driveway, unlocked the back door of her house, and plunged through it into the warmth of the kitchen. Even if someone had noticed, probably nothing would have come of it human beings generally don t recognize wizardry even when it s being done right under their noses. Except for her, the street was empty, and no one looking out the window of any nearby house was close enough to notice that the rain wasn t getting the young girl wet. It was cold and gray outside the wind hissed unrepentantly through the still-bare limbs of the maple trees that lined the street, and in that wind the rain was blowing horizontally from west to east, seemingly right into the face of the girl, in parka and jeans, running down the sidewalk toward her driveway. David Lloyd George (1863-1945) What, can the Devil speak true William Shakespeare, Macbeth, I, iii * * * * That Getaway Urge IT WAS THE FRIDAY AFTERNOON before the start of spring break. hexagram 46, Sheng Onward and Upward With me, a change of trouble is as good as a vacation. Make your way upward steadily toward what waits, Through day s blind radiance to the city s pinnacle, And fall up the last few steps into empty sky…. Don t worry, it s what they need: For all the cheering, See how empty the streets are Take your time.
They make the long climb easier, Though the gift you re bringing may to you seem small.
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Wizard sHoliday DIANE DUANE Book 7 of the Young Wizard series * * * * Unending stairs reach up the mountain above you, And you keep climbing, while the welcoming voices Cheer you along.
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