Dad interrupts. “Zanna, that’s an incredible likeness. Martin, look what your sister drew on your cast.”
Martin twists his head around. “Zanna. Wow. You’ve got him down just perfect. You’re just like Mom.”
“No, I’m not,” I snap.
“Okay. You’re not talented,” Martin coughs, “or beautiful.” He mumbles the last words.
He’s right, of course—Mom is all of those things. But she abandoned her family. I look at Dad and Martin and the picture of Paris. I’m never going to abandon them, ever. Or am I? I think ahead to September and feel my throat swell.
I wish I wasn’t like my mother. I wish I didn’t want to just drop everything and head for Paris too.
“Dad, do you think you could get me a Coke? I’m really thirsty,” Martin says suddenly.
“Sure.” Dad gets up and leaves Martin and me alone together.
I smile. My throat tightened. Martin needed a drink. Like old times.
“Zanna, Dad’s working for Skylon,” Martin tells me.
“Come on, Martin. How could you possibly know that for sure?”
“On his way out to Ribbon Glacier, he stopped to pick up a couple of guys with the Skylon emblem on their jackets.”
“Okay, I can see why that makes it look like Dad’s working with them, but you know him better than I do. Is there any way you could see Dad ever doing anything that could be bad for Ribbon Glacier?
Or any glacier, for that matter?”
Martin shakes his head. “Or the polar ice caps, or any ice. Probably won’t even put any in our drinks.”
Sleepy and in pain as Martin must be, he smiles his big glow-ball smile. “You know, Mom’s different but she’s not as bad as you think, either.” I won’t agree with him, and he stays quiet for a moment. “It’s going to be hard for me when you go back to her in September.”
“That seems impossibly far away right now,” I answer. It just seems impossible, really.
Dad returns with two Cokes, in cans, so no ice was sacrificed for our beverages. I gulp down half the drink immediately. I look at Dad and then Martin and want to hug them both. So I get up and start with Dad.
“Hey, what’s this for?” my father says.
“I’m so glad to be living with you.” Then it’s Martin’s turn, gently, gently. I want to fold the two of them up and tuck them into my heart, where I can carry them everywhere. They’re really there already.
“Don’t spill my drink!” Martin says as he frees himself. “Hey Dad, this picture of Paris,” he points to his cast, “do you think we can save it somehow when the cast comes off?”
“You know what, Martin?” I say.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about the picture on your cast. That’s just a quick sketch. First piece of canvas I get, I’m going to do a full oil painting of your hero. Something you can have and keep forever.” I stand up then. “Dad, can you lend me your credit card? I need to make a call to the Park Office, let them all know how Martin is.”
And first chance I get to speak to Tyler, I’m going to try to make him understand how I feel about him. How it’s him, not Zane, that I care about; how from the moment Tyler told me and Paris we had to leave the office, I fell for him. I just didn’t know it until now. And if I can’t do that on the phone immediately, I’ll keep trying every day that I live in Last Chance Pass.
THE END
Last Chance for Paris Page 14