Still Life by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Still Life

Page 45

She “couldn’t wait to get started,” though no one in Shelton quite knew what that meant. They incorrectly assumed it was nursing, or teaching, or perhaps missionary work. Something useful. Something good.

And good it was; for her and a few guys capable of cutting through the bullshit.

When college applications came, Susan applied everywhere, but it was Yale that called her name in her language. The letter arrived in a thick envelope, and she opened it alone, in the back room of the public library, where she had spent so many afternoons escaping. She stared at the acceptance, then laughed; a short, sharp sound that startled the librarian. It wasn’t joy. It was inevitability.

The town, proud and poor, had rallied around her. They’d passed the hat at church, at the diner, even at the VFW hall. They raised enough to cover her first year, believing they were sending one of their own to a Christian college, a place where faith and humility would temper ambition. But Susan had other plans. She accepted Yale without hesitation, knowing full well the rupture it would cause.

To no one in particular she said; “You think I’m going to some Christian College when I can go to Yale. You must be retarded.”