Awake and Dreaming - Kit Pearson [12]
The first Sunday in February was particularly bad. The rain gushed out of the sky as if someone had forgotten to turn off a tap. Rae paced around the smoke-filled apartment, complaining endlessly about why Cal couldn’t give up his out-of-town job and see more of her.
Theo had finished all her books and was starting one over again—but Rae grabbed it and threw it on the floor so hard its cover came off. “You’re always reading! You never listen to me!”
In the evening, after a meagre supper of noodle soup and crackers, Rae seemed ready to burst. Even her usual TV programs couldn’t hold her attention.
“There’s absolutely nothing to do!”
Theo was staring at the TV screen while her fingers played with the sole of one of her runners. The whole front part had now split. Rae always had new clothes these days—Cal bought them for her.
“Could Cal buy me some new shoes?”
Slap! The blow came so quickly Theo didn’t have time to duck. She clutched her burning cheek while tears gathered in her eyes.
“Shoes!” fumed Rae. “Why do you make me feel so guilty all the time? Don’t you think I try? Is it my fault your feet grow so fast?”
Theo kept holding her cheek. She wondered if she dared get up and escape to her room.
Then her mother’s anger drained out of her and she looked ashamed. “Oh, Kitten … I’m sorry. Give me a hug.” Rae reached forward to touch her, but Theo moved to the farthest corner of the couch.
“I just miss Cal so much I can’t stand it! I’ll tell you what, I’ll measure your foot tonight and stop off at Zeller’s tomorrow after work, okay?”
Theo didn’t answer. It was always like this. The only times Rae seemed to really care about her were after she had hit her. But those were the times when Theo felt the most removed.
“May I go to my room?” she asked stiffly.
Rae sighed. “Of course. You don’t have to treat me like an ogre. It was only a little slap.”
She always said that, too.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON Mr. Barker told Theo that the school counsellor wanted to see her. Theo slowly walked down the hall to Ms. Sunter’s office.
“Sit down, Theo. How are you today?”
“Fine.” Theo slid into a chair in front of Ms. Sunter’s desk. How many times had she sat in front of a desk while a nosy adult asked her questions? Sometimes it was a social worker, sometimes a principal or counsellor. Theo examined this one. Ms. Sunter was young and brisk, with pretty black hair and a tailored red pant suit.
She got straight to the point. “Theo, I’m going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer honestly and not be afraid—okay?”
“Okay,” said Theo. She braced herself to lie.
“Your teacher says that you are simply not there in class—that you daydream constantly, never do your homework and don’t try to make friends. He thought you just needed time to adjust, but you’ve been here for a month now with no improvement.” She smiled. “No one is angry with you. I’m sure there are good reasons why you can’t concentrate. Nothing you tell me will get you into trouble, do you understand? I just want to help you.” They all said that.
Ms. Sunter rifled through a file of papers. “Now let’s see …” She proceeded to recite Theo’s history to her, while Theo nodded in the appropriate spots. The names of her previous four schools. The seven places, including two shelters and one hotel, where she and Rae had lived. The times Rae had worked and the times, especially when Theo was a preschooler, when they’d lived on welfare.
Theo stared at the thick file. How did they know so much about her? It made her feel like a criminal with a record.
Ms. Sunter was looking at the pages angrily. “You and your mother have certainly had a hard life. Didn’t your father ever help out? Have you ever met him?” Theo shook her head. “Do you know who he is?” asked the counsellor more gently.
Theo squirmed. “He was from Greece. My mother met him when he was staying with his uncle here—she was visiting here too, from Victoria. That’s why I have a Greek name,” she added. She could hear Rae’s words: “As handsome