Annie's Story

By Felicity Nisbet

This is a story of love and courage, and of growing up enough to face the truth – and to speak it. During the summer of 1990, seventeen-year-old Annie Maitlin decides she is tired of living in her small California town. She wants something different, something that will make her life just a little more important before she leaves. What happens is more than Annie could have imagined. She meets and falls in love with a Jewish boy, and she quickly learns what life is like for others. Her friends, as well as her own parents, reveal their narrow-mindedness and fears. White supremacy and Neo-Nazism find a home in her small town. And what begins as harmless childish pranks and petty jealousies escalates to violence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: TheFictionWorks
• Release date: May 21, 2015
• ISBN: 9781581242713

Book preview

Nisbet

Chapter 1

It was August 1990, the first day of my summer vacation. Most of my friends had been on vacation since the first week of June, but I’d gone to summer school just like I did every year. And just like I did every year, I had worked at the five and dime store, trying to make enough money to support my old Toyota that I’d pretty much rescued from death row.

So even though it was the hottest day I could ever remember in my whole life, it was awesome. Okay, not totally awesome. It was a real scorcher and the only breeze was the breeze I made for myself with my front porch swing. My feet were bare, and I was wearing my skimpiest pair of shorts ever and a halter top. My mother didn’t mind. In fact, she liked me showing off my figure. She said it was one of my best assets. I looked that word up in my father’s dictionary the first time she’d used it when I was around twelve. It meant something valuable that belonged to me. My figure did for sure. But that wasn’t the reason I was wearing the outfit. I was wearing it because it was so hot out, and I hated anything touching my skin when it was sizzling like that. I’d pulled my hair back into a pony tail and every now and then shook it for a little breeze of its own along my neck.

I was feeling all squirmy inside. I wanted something to happen this summer, in the five weeks I had left of it anyway. Something different. I wanted it to be more than parties and ice cream sodas and swimming in the lake and a trip to see my grandparents. I wanted to remember my last summer of high school for something special. Chances weren’t too good. At least not here in Crescentville. Nothing much ever happened in Crescentville.

My mother always said our town was a throwback to the fifties. That was why we got so many tourists coming through in summer. It was also why she liked it so much. She said she was a child of the fifties, and she’d just as soon the world had stopped growing then. Apparently a lot of people agreed because Crescentville sure had. I would have liked to see at least something change around here once in a while. But maybe we were just a little too far from San Francisco and the Bay Area for that.

I opened my eyes at the sound of a car horn. I didn’t need to. I knew all my friends’ car horns by heart.

Jill pulled into the driveway all the way up to the porch and into the shade. She rolled down her window and leaned out. Hey, Annie, wanna go up to the lake for a swim to celebrate our freedom from summer school? She grinned real big and added, So I can flirt with all the cute guys who hang out up there?

Me and Jill were the only ones of our friends who went to summer school every year. I did it because it meant I didn’t have to take as many classes and work so hard just to get passing grades during the year. And I could qualify for cheerleading. I figured Jill did it a little bit for the same reasons and a little bit to keep me company.

Sure. I’ll call Jeff and tell him not to come over.

He’s coming over? Can’t you get him to bring you up to the lake?

I wish, but he’s gotta work at his dad’s office this afternoon. He only has a little time. I’ll call him and tell him not to come.

You’d pass up seeing Jeff to go with me?

Sure, why not?

Jill wrinkled her nose and blew her golden-brown bangs away from her forehead. ’Cause you know how Jeff gets when you change plans on him.

Of course I know. Real well. But I have rights too. I can change my mind sometimes. He does it all the time.

Yeah, but that’s because he’s the guy. Jill opened her car door and rested her feet against the fence. You know how guys are.

Yeah, I know, but I don’t have to like it. Don’t you ever wonder, Jill, why they act one way and expect us to act another?

How long you been swinging out here, Annie? You sound like you’ve been thinking again.

I laughed. Jill called it thinking. My mother called it wasting time when I could be doing more important things like learning to cook and bake or sew. My little sister Carrie called it dreaming. And I called it trying to make sense of things.

Come on, Jill, don’t you ever think about that?

Sure, but I guess I’m kind of used to it. I’ve got three brothers, remember? They’re not exactly male chauvinist pigs, but they totally have a double standard. And my mother is a lot like—

She didn’t have to finish her sentence. I knew what she was going to say. Her mother was a lot like mine, but not nearly as bad. My mother was as stuck in the fifties as anyone could possibly be, and that included the part about a woman’s place being in one place—the home. Except for Carrie, of course. But that was because Carrie was like the smartest kid on the planet. She could make something of herself, something important. She was so smart she could be a doctor or a lawyer or anything she wanted to be. Even my mother thought so. But Carrie was the exception to the rule, at least as far as my mother was concerned.

I stopped swinging and stretched my legs out in front of me. Double standards suck.

No kidding, but until things change—especially around here—

Maybe it takes people changing them, I said.

She pulled her thick hair away from her neck and fanned herself with her other hand. Totally. Only right now all I’ve got enough energy for is to get up to the lake and into the water. You coming or not? I was supposed to pick up Marie ten minutes ago.

Hold on. I ran into the house and dialed Jeff’s number. Darn. No answer. I went back to my swing. He’s not there. He’s probably on his way over.

Not brave enough to ditch him?

I’m brave but not that brave. I smiled my sweetest smile at her, the one my mother had made me practice in front of the mirror for when I needed to impress someone, usually an adult. But you could wait for me? Go a little later?

Sorry, but I promised Marie. I’m already late—

Oh, right. That’s okay. Next time.

For sure. Jill closed her car door and started up her engine. I’ll think of you while I’m floating around in that clear cool water.

Yeah, right.

I watched her drive away. Before she’d even made it out of the driveway, I regretted not ditching Jeff and going with her.

When my father drove up a couple minutes later, I knew it was lunchtime. He came home for lunch most days. Even though my mother told him he should be having business lunches with potential clients and people of influence, he said he liked eating lunch in the comfort of his own home.

Hey, Annie, how’s my girl?

I stopped the swing. Hot. How can you stand wearing a suit and tie on a day like this, Dad?

Do I have a choice?

I guess not. Why not?

He was opening the screen door. What?

Why not? Why can’t accountants wear shorts in the summer like everyone else?

Are you expecting an answer to that one, Annie?

Yeah, I guess I am. Shouldn’t I?

He shook his head and let go of the screen door. No, because I don’t have one. At least not one that would satisfy you. He opened the door again and went inside.

A tiny breeze had come up so I didn’t have to make one of my own. I leaned back in the swing and closed my eyes so I could think better. It seemed like lately there were more and more of my questions that my father didn’t have an answer to.

Hey, Little Orphan!

Stop that, Jeff Sloan! I opened my eyes and kicked him with the foot he was tickling. And you know I hate it when you call me that.

Some outfit you got there, Annie. New?

You like it? I curled my legs under me, and Jeff sat down on the swing beside me.

On that bod? Totally. But don’t go wearing it anywhere out, not unless I’m with you anyway.

It’s not that bad.

I don’t want guys drooling over my girl, is all. He was grinning, and I knew he really did like guys drooling over his girl. He just liked to be there to watch it, was all.

He slid his arm around my waist and pulled me over so our bodies were touching. I pulled back so there was a tiny space between us. My body wanted some breathing room of its own.

Shit, Annie. You’re always pushing me away lately. What is it with you?

I’m sweltering. That’s what’s with me. But that wasn’t all. I just wasn’t sure what the rest was. All I knew was that I was feeling restless and wanted to spend the few summer weeks that I had left doing something different. But how was I supposed to explain that?

Sorry, so what’d my girl do today?

I hated it when he called me, my girl. It didn’t bother me a bit when it was my father calling me that. But it was different when Jeff said it. He said it like he owned me or something. Melinda thought I was strange because she loved it when Kyle called her his girl. I told her that was because she was more proud of being Kyle Cunningham’s girl than of being her own self. Marie thought I was too sensitive about what Jeff called me. But I told her what he called me was kind of like a mirror of how he thought of me. Jill just thought I’ve been thinking too much again. I figured that was a good thing.

Nothing much, I told him. Just relieved summer school is over.

No kidding. You’ve missed like fifty trips up to the lake.

Thanks for rubbing it in. Especially since I’d missed one more, thanks to him.

Sorry. So, how’d you do in your classes?

I groaned. Not sure. I think I did okay in English but that science class—I’ll be lucky to get a ‘C-.’

He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. Other than Kyle Cunningham, Jeff Sloan was the best looking guy on the football team, actually in the whole school. He was tall and muscular, and he had blue eyes and thick light brown hair with a hint of auburn that matched mine and made everyone think we made the cutest couple—especially my mother. I was lucky to have him for a boyfriend, at least that’s what my friends kept telling me . . . and my mother. I kind of agreed with them, at least most of the time. At least until he opened his mouth.

Good thing you’re so beautiful, Annie, ‘cause you’re sure not real—

I pushed his arm away from my body and sat up real straight. I’m sure not what?

He shrugged and tried to look sorry only he wasn’t very good at it.

You were going to say smart, weren’t you?

I was going to say—He picked at his thumb nail like he was going to find the right word there—bright.

Same thing. I crossed my arms and turned my back on him.

I’m sorry, babe. You know I don’t care how smart you are. He started rubbing my back the way he liked to do and the way I sometimes liked him to do, or at least used to like him to do. I’m crazy about you just the way you are.

Thanks a lot. Real quick I got tired of his hand pawing at my back and I stood up. I’m not dumb, you know. I just haven’t done so well in school. I kind of got off to a bad start.

A real bad start with everyone in my entire first grade class reading a whole lot sooner and faster than I could. It hadn’t helped that my teacher had tried to put me in a special education class. Of course, my mother had put an end to that idea before it got very far, more because it might look bad than anything else. But the damage had been done. I never got over thinking I was special, and not in a good way.

I’d probably have done a lot better if I didn’t have that witch Mrs. Shelton for first grade, don’t you think?

Huh? Jeff looked confused like he wasn’t part of this conversation.

I asked if you think I would have done better if I had Mrs. Green instead of Mrs. Shelton in first grade.

I guess. Wanna go into town and get some ice cream? I’ve got enough time to do that.

I felt like all the air had been let out of me, kind of like a tire when it’s gone flat. He wasn’t even listening enough to answer my question. I leaned back in the swing to mope, something I was getting real good at.

Well?

I dunno. I’ll think about it.

Well, do it quick before I have to get to work.

The screen door opened and our cleaning lady stepped onto the porch. Muchas gracias, Mrs. Maitlin.

My mother yelled back, You’re welcome.

Weird. I always wondered why it wasn’t my mother thanking Lupe for cleaning the house so well.

Lupe let the screen door close and started on her walk to her next job. I leaped out of the swing and ran over to her. Do you want me to drive you, Lupe?

Her smile was so big that it lit up her face. Oh, Annie, I did not see you there! Thank you, but I am good. It is only a block away today.

You’re sure?

I am sure. But thank you for thinking of me. Adios.

I smiled back. Hasta luega.

Muy bien, Annie. Hasta luega.

When did you start speaking Spanish? Jeff asked.

Since my mother hired Lupe. She teaches me a little now and then.

So, if you don’t wanna go for ice cream, at least get me something to drink. It’s hotter than hell out here. I was on the other side of the screen door when he yelled, Make it a coke. I hate that brand of root beer your mother buys.

My hand was on the kitchen door when I heard my parents fighting. It seemed like that was all they did lately. I really had to wonder why my father bothered coming home for lunch.

I told you to pay Lupe at least eight dollars an hour, Martha.

I know what you told me, Doug. I just don’t know why. Why pay more when these people—

These people?

You know what I mean.

I’m afraid I know exactly what you mean, my father mumbled.

Anyway, when they’ll work for six dollars an hour, why should we pay them more?

Because it’s immoral to pay her so little, that’s why!

It’s not like we’re made of money, you know. Maybe if you’d try a little harder and get more clients—If you’d bother to go to lunch with some people or join the country club—

Let’s not start that again!

I stepped back just in time before my father pushed open the door. Never mind. I’ll pick up a sandwich at the drug store.

By the time I was brave enough to go into the kitchen, my mother was happily humming to herself while she put away my father’s uneaten lunch. She wasn’t the least bit upset by their conversation. At least she didn’t look like she was. But I sure was. There was that tight little knot in my stomach that I got when something was bothering me.

Why don’t you like Lupe? I blurted out.

She whirled around from the sink to face me. Don’t you start in on me too. I like Lupe just fine. I just think it’s important to keep these people in their place, that’s all.

What place is that? I grabbed two root beers out of the refrigerator.

You know what I mean. If you treat people who work for you like they’re the same as you, they’ll act like they’re the same as you.

Well, aren’t they?

No! Annie, really. I do not need this right now. What are you doing anyway? You’ve frittered away your whole morning on that swing out there. You could at least help me make some apple sauce or something. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. I’ve got to do something with all these apples.

Jeff’s here.

Oh. Oh! Well, don’t leave him alone out there. He’s probably hot and thirsty. She followed me to the front door and called out, You two have fun now!

Once my back was turned, I rolled my eyes and wondered if she had any idea that Jeff’s idea of fun always included two things—beer and sex, and usually in that order.

Once my mother had vanished, Jeff said, I told you I hate this root beer.

It’s all we have. I wondered why I hadn’t bothered to look for anything else. I snatched it back from him. Let’s go down to the ice cream parlor.

You said you didn’t want to.

I didn’t then, but I want to now. It was like my skin had creepy crawlers all over it or something. And I really needed a break from hearing my mother’s voice, especially the way it changed back and forth, all superior-like when she talked to Lupe, and preachy when she talked to me and my dad, and then all sweet and syrupy-like when she talked to Jeff.

Can I at least finish my drink? He grabbed the can back from me and opened it. Before I could answer, he’d gulped down half of it.

I’ll call Carrie, see if she wants to come along.

Annie! No!

It was too late. I’d already yelled, and Carrie had already stuck her head out her bedroom window.

We’re going for ice cream. Wanna come?

The window slammed shut, and I knew she’d be at the front door in less than the count of ten. I’d pay for it later. I could tell by the way Jeff was frowning. But it was worth it. No one enjoyed eating ice cream as much as Carrie. Except maybe me.

Hey, bratso, how’s it going? Jeff always called Carrie bratso. It could have been cute, but not the way he said it like she was the most annoying little kid on the planet. I never got why he thought she was, because she sure wasn’t. In fact, Carrie was the best little sister there was. Even though she was only ten, a whole seven years younger than me, I could talk to her about almost anything. And it wasn’t just that she was mature for her age. She was wise, a whole lot wiser than most anyone else I knew. I just wished Jeff could see that about her.

My name’s Carrie or is that too hard for you to remember?

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But when Jeff slid his arm around my waist, just a little too high, I decided it was a great idea. Otherwise, we never would have made it past the front seat of his car.

Let’s walk, I said after we were all piled inside the car, and Jeff had started up the engine.

You could have said something sooner.

Sorry. I just don’t feel like breathing fumes.

You’re so damned fussy lately, Annie. Is it that time?

I scowled at him. I hated it when he said that like a girl’s period was the only reason for her to change her mind or be in a bad mood.

Open the door, Carrie. I need some air. She did and we both jumped out of the car. The walk will do us good. It’s not like it’s far.

It was only three blocks. That was one advantage of living on this side of town—or the wrong side of the tracks as Marie was always calling it. Okay, so it wasn’t as nice as her part of town or the part where all my friends lived. And sure, their houses were bigger and newer and fancier, but you couldn’t walk to the shops in under ten minutes from their part of town. And you didn’t have any of the wonderful old houses that had been built back at the turn of the century. Those were all in my part of town.

Jeff punched the steering wheel, turned off the engine, and slammed the door behind him. Carrie and me were already halfway down the block by the time he caught up to us. When he did, he grabbed my arm and pulled me alongside of him like he was making some kind of statement.

I stopped right there in my tracks, glared at him, and pushed his arm away from me. I could make statements too.

Shit, Annie, I have to tell you hanging out with you lately is really starting to suck. What the hell’s gotten into you?

I didn’t answer because I didn’t know. But I kind of liked it. It felt good to let him know that it wasn’t okay to pull me here and there all the time. And it wasn’t okay not to let me have my own thoughts and feelings and moods. I wasn’t like Melinda who was afraid of losing Kyle if she didn’t do things his way. At least not anymore.

Carrie’s hand gripped mine, and she smiled up at me like she knew exactly what I was feeling. Maybe she could tell me why I was acting like this. Maybe it had to do with my thinking it was Jeff’s fault that I wasn’t up at the lake with Jill. Or maybe it was more about my wanting something to happen this summer. Something different. Something that would make my life in Crescentville just a little more important before I left.

Chapter 2

It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and I was back on my swing. Only there was a real nice breeze all its own now. And I was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Still bare feet though.

The first day of my last summer vacation as a student was almost over. It hadn’t exactly been the kind of day to start off a real exciting summer. In fact it had been a pretty crummy day, totally lame. My parents had fought. Jeff and me had fought. Carrie and me were good, but then we almost never fought. That was one thing I hoped would never change.

As far as I was concerned, there was plenty of room for other things to change. But since this was my last summer as a student, I figured I’d have to be patient and wait for high school to be over before that happened. There wasn’t much chance of me going on with school after that. At least that’s what my mother always said. She said that Carrie was the smart one in the family. And I was the pretty one. I kind of took that to mean that I wasn’t so smart and Carrie wasn’t so pretty. Only she was. She was totally cute. Her brown hair was a shade darker than mine which was more like an auburn color, and she had big blue eyes the exact same color as mine. I could tell that she’d get even prettier as she got older. And she was always telling me that I was plenty smart. I just wasn’t all book smart like her. She said that was because she was a bookworm, and I was too busy thinking and doing to open a book. Maybe that was what I’d do this summer—read a book, just for fun like Carrie was always doing. That would make it a different summer for sure.

But even more than that I wanted my last year of school to be different, important. Because after it was over, what then? What was I going to do with my life after that?

It had never seemed to matter before. I’d never thought about it a whole lot. But now it seemed like it was time to figure it out. Whatever it was, it had to include seeing a piece of the world that wasn’t like Crescentville, a piece of the world that wasn’t still stuck in the fifties.

Annie! I have to run into town to pick up the dry cleaning. Do you want to come? my mother’s voice called through the screen door.

I can do it for you, I offered.

She shook her head. Thanks, but I want to make sure they didn’t put too much starch in your father’s shirts like they’re always doing.

I cringed. At least she hadn’t called them those people.

I think I’ll stay here, I said.

Oh, and I have to pick up a book at the bookstore I ordered last week. You could do that while I’m at the cleaners.

Okay, I’ll come if you want. I ran into the house to find my sandals. Maybe this summer was going to be different. I never went to the bookstore. And my mother definitely never took me to the bookstore. This was good, I decided. At least it was different.

Ten minutes later I was standing in the entryway of the bookstore I’d walked past a hundred thousand times and had almost never been in. I liked it. It was real light and quiet like everyone was being respectful in there, and it smelled like new books. There were