Craig Lancaster - Edward Adrift Read Online Free PDF

don’t even know how to begin. I mean, you know it hasn’t been an easy transition for Kyle here.”
    “I know.”
    “He had a lot of friends there, and seventh grade is a really tough time to change schools, because all of these other kids, they’ve been together for years, and Kyle’s had to figure out how to find a place with them. It’s been hard. His grades have been slipping all year, and at first, you know, we figured maybe it’s just the adjustment and a different set of teachers here. We were confident he’d catch up, but he hasn’t. If anything, it’s gotten worse.”
    “OK.”
    I rub my bare right foot on the kitchen floor, and it feels something hard and raised against the linoleum. I look down and see the marinara stain. I resolve to scrub it up today. I’ve waited long enough.
    Donna keeps going. “On his last report card, he had a D in algebra. A D ! Math is his favorite subject. His marks for conduct were bad, too, and we knew then that we were up against something big, because he’s never had that kind of trouble.”
    “OK, but how did he get expelled?”
    I rub my foot against the stain again.
    “I’m getting to that. I just wanted you to, you know, have some background. He got expelled because…God, I can barely say it.” Donna’s voice goes into a low whisper. “Edward, he called his English teacher a cunt.”
    I giggle.
    “Edward!”
    I giggle again.
    “I’m going to hang up.”
    “No, don’t. I’m sorry.”
    I hold the phone away from my face and cough real loud to clear my throat.
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I want to know where he could have heard such a word,” she says.
    I have no idea. Scott Shamwell is the only person I know who uses the word “cunt” without any shame, but he gets away with it only because there are no women on the press crew. Anyway, I don’t think he’s met Kyle.
    “He probably picked it up from another boy,” I say, trying to be helpful.
    Donna starts crying. “I don’t know what to do. I asked Kyle what in the world has happened with him, and he said he hates living here, he wants to be back in our house across the street from you, that you’re the only friend he has.”
    I silently thrill at this, although I immediately wonder if I should let Donna know that. Donna and Kyle and Victor left here in June, and I miss them.
    “What did you say?” I ask.
    “I didn’t say anything. I sent him to his room so I didn’t kill him. Not kill him, kill him. You know I’d never do that. I need to talk to Victor, but he’s out of the office this morning and he’s not picking up his cell. I know Kyle misses you. We all do. But I can’t see that just giving him whatever he says he wants is going to fix what’s wrong here. You know?”
    “Yes.”
    The crying has stopped. “Would you have room for him? If we were to let him come see you, I mean?” she asks.
    “Yes. Of course.”
    She sniffles. “OK. Let me talk to Victor. We’ll figure out what to do from here.”
    “Good.”
    Again, I slide my foot along the soiled linoleum.
    “Edward,” she says, “why did you have a bad night?”
    “Um…”
    “I feel really bad that this has been all about our problems. What’s going on there?”
    I press at the edge of the sauce stain with my toenail, trying to lift it. It’s no use.
    “Donna, I’m going to have to call you back. OK?”
    “What—”
    I hang up.

    The spilled, hardened marinara comes up without any problem once I apply a rag soaked in hot water and some scrubbing to it. It then occurs to me that this will leave me with one spot on my kitchen floor that’s cleaner than the rest, which is, of course, unacceptable. I go back to my bedroom, pull my grubby clothes from the bottom drawer of my bureau, slip into them, and then I return to the kitchen and fill the mop bucket with warm water and floor cleaner.
    It’s when I’m sweeping up, clearing the floor for washing, that I’m thinking of 8:17 a.m. on Saturday, June 4, as I stood