Allison's Diary - Season One
Wednesday, 4 October 2102
Truthfully, why can’t I be homeschooled? The bus ride to town takes up three hours a day, and that’s if it doesn’t snow. I can’t read, or I’ll get sick, and there’s no tech allowed, so I can’t listen to music or anything. So I just sit there, watch out the windows, listen to the nonsense, and think about being back home.
It’s not even Mom that stops it – I know it isn’t. She knows I’d take care of the lessons myself. It’s Dad that won’t let me stay home. His insistence that I need to get out of the house borders on the insane every once in a while. I could be so much more useful if I didn’t have to waste so much time at school.
At least harvest and planting are over for the year. Since he’s done with the real work, Dad’s been taking me up on the hill behind the house to look at the stars for a while most nights. The Orionid meteor shower is supposed to start today. He says it’s petered out compared to what it was when he was young, but it’s still a thrill to see that flash streak across the sky when a pea-sized grain of rock erodes against the atmosphere.
We talk about a lot of things while we’re standing up there with our heads tilted back. School and crops, mostly. He doesn’t talk about the things he’s done very often, but I like to listen to his stories when he does.
I keep expecting it, but he never asks what I’m going to do when I get out of school.
*****
Thursday, 5 October 2102
Wrestling my hair into a ponytail was about the hardest part of getting ready for schoolPicking out an outfit was an exercise in taking the next shirt and pants off the stack and hiding what I could under an oversized hoodie. It was cold enough in my room that I didn’t dally getting dressed.
Caring about what I looked like would have required concern over peoples’ opinion of me.
As far as I could tell, Mom had only heard my footsteps from the stove when she said, “I’ll take you shopping any time."
“Yeah, I’ll check my schedule.” I’d barely settled before bacon, fried eggs, and toast appeared on a plate in front of me.
“Leave the flowers on the plate.”
I looked up at Dad’s focused smile.
“It’s good.”
“So?”
I shrugged. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.” She risked a kiss on top of my head. “You can go back to inhaling your food so you don’t miss your bus.”
I was okay with the walk up to the bus stop. Mom and Dad had never painted a picture where I had any choice in the matter. It only took a little over ten minutes, and it meant I was alone for a while, which suited me fine. I didn’t deal with their questions so well first thing in the morning. The solitude gave me a few minutes to get ready for all the people that I’d face the rest of the day.
I didn’t dislike people. Not even a little bit. I just wanted to face them my way, in my own time.
We talk about a lot of things while we’re standing up there with our heads tilted back. School and crops, mostly. He doesn’t talk about the things he’s done very often, but I like to listen to his stories when he does.
I keep expecting it, but he never asks what I’m going to do when I get out of school.
*****
Thursday, 5 October 2102
A school bus ride is a cultural phenomenon of its own. One that lasts close to two hours is actually more of a cultural immersion. I spent my time paddling so, hopefully, I kept my head above the surface so I could still breathe.
It wasn’t that I thought I was better than the other kids. They didn’t scare me or anything.
I did not understand them.
Other girls made it all seem so effortless. From doing their hair to finding a guy. . . They really did seem so perfect. It wasn’t really annoying as much as it was confusing. I wasn’t a lazy person, but it was impossible to do school, help Dad, and have time for anything else. I wasn’t certain I was missing out on anything, but that didn’t stop me from wondering.
It has been worse since cross-country season ended. I’d always sworn sports were a waste of time. I’d have never done it without Dad’s strong admonition that I should try when the opportunity came up, but I found something in running. Dad suggested it was a connection to the world, but I wondered if it wasn’t a connection to myself.
But it was behind.
Calculus, Earth science, physics, chemistry, and classical literature were what was ahead. Long, loud lunches in the commons and squeezing through over-crowded hallways fell between.
I liked the classes. I looked forward to them, honestly. It was everything that came in between that I’d have loved to avoid. Honestly, I think Mom was okay with the idea of homeschooling me. It was Dad that wanted me to go face this every day, and I just didn’t understand why.
*****
Thursday, 5 October 2102
Do I really have to talk about lunch? Of course I sit alone. Okay, so, I’m not going to pretend I wouldn’t like to have someone to talk to, and sure, Jenny Charles will talk about farming all day long, but. . . sometimes I want to talk about what girls talk about.
It’s hard not to wonder – is there anything more?
It’s obvious that Dad got out. When he came back, he came back by choice, because that was what he wanted to do. He’d lived and seen the world, and people still come looking for his advice on things I don’t completely understand.
Important things.
Right here, right now, I’m not seeing how to dot that particular ‘i’. The classes aren’t hard, the studying isn’t hard, but how do you put it all together and turn it into a career? A life? Dad says I’ll find an internship someday, something that will let me try some things out, but I just don’t understand how that’s going to help me decide what to do with my life.
Yes – I’d love to see what another sixteen-year-old like me thinks. Are they afraid of the same things? Wondering what the future holds? Wondering what their future holds? They’re certainly not the same thing, after all, and positioning oneself to be in a good spot for both seems like the whole point of everything.
The uncertainty of the whole thing is just plain frustrating. How can you be sure everything is going to be okay?
*****
Thursday, 5 October 2102
It was the wrong thing to say. I knew it was as soon as it came out of my mouth. Yes, she shoved me to get on the bus, but I shouldn’t have let it matter. I don’t know if she even meant for it to happen.
I realized all of this on the way to the ground, along with the painful reminder that once a word is out of your mouth, it’s out of your mouth.
There’s a sound that’s unique to a human head falling backward on concrete. Nothing else sounds like it, and that’s the last thing I remember hearing before the lights went out – the hollow thud of my head bouncing off the sidewalk.
The nurse pronounced me healthy enough to avoid a trip to Idaho Falls and the hospital. The certainty of that wasn’t complete as I looked across the pickup seat at Dad.
He wasn’t thrilled. He was waiting, and as a trained and accomplished diplomatic negotiator, he had plenty of practice. It didn’t take me long to decide I might as well just weigh into it.
“It was my fault. I called her something I shouldn’t have.” I sucked in a breath to replace the void the honesty had made as it left my chest.
“She’s gone. There’s nothing that can change that – fighting is a zero-tolerance infraction in this world, and particularly at your school. Her life is altered forever because of what she did, Allison, and likely not for the better.” Dad took a breath. “It seems fair to ask why you allowed this to happen.”
*****
Thursday, 5 October 2102
He was waiting, and I knew he would wait until I came clean. The old blue pickup would sit alongside the highway until hell froze over, and I knew it.
“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help Susan?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “I went to school with Principal Rucker. He’ll never budge, and you’ll have to learn to live with what you caused. Unless she finds it privately, she’s done with school at sixteen.”
“Her family can’t afford private school.”
“I know that.” He shut the pickup off. I wasn’t sure if it was a show or conservation. Either way, he was waiting again.
“I was angry.”
“At Susan?”
“At the world, Dad.” Although he didn’t speak, he did turn and look at me. Any anger I might have seen in his eyes was replaced by concern. “It doesn’t feel like there’s any way to build a life that matters.”
“The old folks I grew up around used to always say that they couldn’t understand why young people were having trouble. There was a whole mentality that they’d done it with a little hard work, so the younger generation should be able to succeed the same way. They never considered there was less war, less disease, and a stronger economy back when they were trying to get themselves started.”
“Okay, but how does that help me?"
“Well,” Dad stopped long enough to smile. “I’m smarter than them – I’m going to take it into account when your mom and I figure out your punishment.”
“Okay, but that’s not a lot of help.”
“Maybe it is. Just stop and think about the bottom line here. The answer’s right in front of you.”
*****
Friday, 6 October 2102
Susan Doxley lived in a trailer with her mother just outside of Ririe. You learned that sort of thing when you rode a school bus with them throughout your life. I left a note for my parents that said I should be home late in the afternoon and started walking. It was about fifteen miles to town. I figured I’d cover one direction in five hours or so. I had plenty of time – I wasn’t allowed back at school until Monday.
The cold wasn’t a problem. It was about fifteen degrees, which, although brisk, could be compensated for with a heavy coat, hat, and gloves. Excepting the reason for my little stroll as a whole, it was the only drawback to the morning.
The sky was incredible. I didn’t really understand it, but I’d see the cloud-like band of stars showing up off to the South before. I knew it was at least a portion of the Milky Way, other stars in the galaxy showing up in the sky. Stars uncountable as water molecules in a morning fog.
I thought about that and all of the things it meant as I walked. I never made it past the fact that around one of those stars, there might be another girl walking down the side of a highway wondering what was going to happen when she got where she was going.
Whole other worlds. A lack of understanding of what was out there so complete that no one even knew all of what was unknown. There were a lot of things left that had never been experienced.
They just weren’t around here.
*****
Friday, 6 October 2102
“Why are you here?” Susan’s arms were crossed over her chest, her body language mirroring the snap in her tone.
“I’m here to apologize for what I said to you, Susan. I didn’t have any right to call you that, and I’m truly sorry.” I held my gaze level, giving her the opportunity to gauge my sincerity and hopefully not find it lacking.
“You can stand there all day long. I’m not going to apologize back to you, Allison. I’m not sorry for what I did.”
“My regret isn’t dependent on yours, Susan. I just need you to know that I’ll do better if our paths ever cross again.”
“Well, that’s not likely. I’m being sent to my Uncle’s family in Utah so I can keep going to school.” Susan took a deep breath. I figured she was trying to not cry. “You know what? You can’t ever fix this with me, Allison. We’ll never be okay after this, so the best we can both do is learn from it and move on.”
I watched her turn around and go inside without another word. Some part of me knew I should start for home, that the show was over. Getting my legs and feet to cooperate was another matter.
It was all a lot to process.
The only thing I was sure about when I walked away was that I had changed. Susan and Dad were both right. I would carry this around for the rest of my life. Hopefully, I would manage to become a better person in the end because of it.
*****
Friday, 6 October 2102
The days were pretty short in October. Old Blue was glinting in the moonlight on top of the hill behind the house. Dad was sitting up in our spot, probably waiting for the moon to rise and for me to come home.
“Beautiful day,” Dad said through the open pickup window.
I stepped closer, noticing just a hint of approval in the air. “I’ve had worse days.”
“That’s good to hear.” He straightened in the seat. “C’mon. Have a seat. I brought you some chow. You’ve got to be hungry. I thought you could eat while we waited. The Draconoid meteors should pick up tonight. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Mom’s fried potatoes and sausage were still warm in the container. Even the best insulator wouldn’t have kept it warm for too long.
He’d expected me.
He snapped the top of a can of soda open, took a bit off the top, then handed it to me to wash my dinner down with. “Your mom wouldn’t like me treating you while you’re supposed to be in trouble, so that was mine, okay?”
I nodded conspiratorially. “She’s still mad?”
Dad nodded a little.
“I don’t care for blood, Dad.”
“That seems reasonable. Why does it matter?”
“Most of the jobs that directly help people involved blood. I’ve kinda got a thing about that.”
“Farming doesn’t,” Dad smiled. “Well, usually, anyway.”
“I don’t want to take anything away from your life, but it’s not quite direct enough for me."
He smiled. “You’re more about people than I am. You need to think on that. Eat your food so we can start star watching.”
*****
Friday, 6 October 2102
“What do you suppose is out there?” I was asking the universe, honestly. It was hard not to wonder when contemplating the immensity of the universe.
“The last science I heard predicts seven new stars are born every year. So, in uncountable immensity that’s always growing. Personally, I think everything is out there,” Dad said.
“Did you ever think about trying to find out. . . for sure?”
He laughed. “No. I was always amazed by what I could find down here on the ground. I respect people that want to go to the stars, but it’s not for me.”
“What if it’s for me?” I asked.
“Do you want my honest answer?” Dad’s tone said I might not like what I was about to hear.
“Always, Dad.”
“Allison, you’re smart enough. I don’t know what it takes for brains to get to space, but I know you have them. Your problem is your unwillingness to get along with other people. You’ll never get up there on your own. It takes a team to explore. Until you can learn how to truly be on one, you’d better get used to mud on your shoes.”
Lies don’t sting. Only the truth really hurts, and Dad’s words bit.
Hard.
“I can do better.” As soon as I said the words, I understood their challenge. To truly make a change wasn’t going to be easy.
“I know you can, and you’re going to have to, if that’s the future you want to have.” I knew he was smiling even in the darkness when he added, “Now you know why I won’t let you homeschool. There’s no better place to learn what you need to than where you are.”
*****
Friday, 6 October 2102
Lying in bed, it was impossible not to think about what Dad had said. People always said the oceans were the last great unexplored frontier on Earth, but they didn’t hold the allure for a girl in Southeastern Idaho they otherwise might have. I’d been looking at the stars one way or another since I could remember. I felt connected enough to them that I’d started to pass them by, until Dad started his stargazing.
I knew the various parts of the world had gone to space at one point or another. Private or even national projects had pretty much gone by the wayside. Almost everyone’s efforts had come together under the United Planet Earth’s Ticonderoga Project. I didn’t know much about military stuff, but I knew the ship was designed to make the trip to other planets, even if it seldom left orbit. It was more like a space station than a spacecraft.
Now that I spent some time thinking about it, it was pretty cool.
I didn’t know enough to even think about making a plan. Math and the hard sciences always came easily to me. Dad was probably right – I couldn’t show much history working well with teammates, and I would need to change that if I wanted to be considered to do that sort of thing. It just made sense.
I’d had the smallest brush with misbehavior. Susan Doxley wandered back into my thoughts, reminding me that I needed to do better moving forward.
The pieces of the puzzle were on the table – I just had to arrange them to show the world the picture.
*****
Monday, 9 October 2102
“Hi Jenny.” I stood in front of her otherwise empty table, lunch bag in hand, hoping my intentions were clear. “Mind if I sit with you?”
Jenny looked hesitant for a microsecond, and then happy. “Okay.”
It wasn’t exactly a ringing invitation, but I sat across from her and opened my bag.
“Oh.” Tana Kalani’s squeak of surprise was understandable, given my own antisocial preferences.
I took it head-on. “Ever look at your life, see your mistakes, and try to make a change?”
Tana nodded hesitantly.
“She hasn’t bit me yet,” Jenny said with a hint of a smile. “We’ll outnumber her if she decides to start something.”
“She’s not much of a fighter, either.” Tana’s glare cracked at the edges as she settled beside me. “I guess I’ll take my chances.”
“Are either of you two having trouble in physics?” Jenny asked. “I’m having a terrible time with this stuff about air acting like a fluid.”
“It’s not fluid like water. I don’t care what Mr. Schmidt says,” Tana snapped.
I might have offered a silent word of thanks to the God of Lunch Table Conversation for deliverance from patter about farming, and, Dad, for helping me to see the world providing me an opening.
“It’s only like water in how it flows. I’m doing all right with it, myself. Maybe we could meet up and study sometime?” I know I sounded hesitant, but it wasn’t because the offer wasn’t genuine. It was because I was afraid of being turned down.
Jenny looked at Tana. “Tomorrow after school?”
Tana nodded. “Sounds cool to me.”
*****
Monday, 9 October 2102
“Dad?”
“Allison.”
“Is there any chance you’d pick me up from school tomorrow?”
“Why?” Dad asked. It was obvious he was curious, not unwilling.
“I’m going to study with Jenny and Tana. I heard they could use some help with Physics.”
Dad smiled. “I’d wait all day for you.”
I watched the stars gliding along their slow circle overhead, uninterested in the life of Allison Mackenzie. I thought about the way they always had and always would march on, regardless of any influence or uncertainty.
“You knew this was going to happen.”
“Absolutely not, Kid. I might have hoped, and I certainly wished for it, but I never know what’s going to happen when it comes to you.”
“I feel like I let you down by what I did. I know I let myself down.”
“Perhaps,” Dad admitted. “But you picked yourself back up again. The one outweighs the other.”
“Does it?”
“Allison, do you think I never made a mistake?”
“Honestly, I never really considered the possibility.”
I couldn’t see Dad’s smile in the black of night, but I felt it like sunlight on a warm day. “You’re too young and full of hope to hear all of the ways I’ve turned left when I should’ve turned right.”
“It looks like you did pretty well from where I sit.”
“Perhaps,” Dad said. “But it didn’t come without struggles. Mine might have been different than yours, and yours are different than everyone else’s, but we still find a way to get through them.”
“With style?”
“Not always, Kid. They don’t give any extra points for that. Integrity’s what matters.”
