Brigid’s Catholic School, where my dad is our principal.Įlena sighs. Now we are all in the eighth grade at St. The three of us met back in kindergarten when Elena was a black-haired bulldozer in a pink dress and a leg brace, and Michael was a quiet skinny boy in short pants and Space Invader T-shirts. They were both on the front lawn waiting to greet Mom when we got back from the hospital. Michael Buskirk and Elena Vallejo are my best friends. “We’ll get to them in high school,” says Michael, who is in the kitchen, too. “We don’t have vectors in our math,” Elena calls from the kitchen. She’s a professional photographer now, but she’s always finding ways to work things like vectors and differentials and Hilbert curves into conversation. “Lucy,” Mom says to me, “width is not a function of vector.” “What if we turn it around and back it in?”

They only let her leave because she promised to stay off her feet for at least forty-eight hours. This is the first time my mother has been home from the West Glover Hospital in over a month.

“Don’t worry,” says Dad, who stands inside the bathroom, ready to give Mom a hand.

I am not allowed to repeat her exact words. “You have got to be kidding me,” she says.Īctually, these are not her exact words. I pull the chair back an inch and then roll it into the door frame again. OL17904500W Page_number_confidence 84.69 Pages 198 Partner Innodata Pdf_module_version 0.0.17 Ppi 300 Rcs_key 24143 Republisher_date 20201224072014 Republisher_operator Republisher_time 428 Scandate 20201222072355 Scanner Scanningcenter cebu Scribe3_search_catalog isbn Scribe3_search_id 9781250068088 Tts_version 4.My mother’s wheelchair does not fit through the bathroom door, and I don’t know what to do about it. Access-restricted-item true Addeddate 03:07:59 Boxid IA40024113 Camera USB PTP Class Camera Collection_set printdisabled External-identifier

I Kill the Mockingbird by Paul Acampora