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that　easily。　〃When　did　he　buy　it？〃　

〃He　bought　it　in　1984；　I　think。〃　

〃Did　he　buy　it　new？〃　

〃Well；　no。　I　think　it　was　new　in　the　early　sixties　—　or　late　fifties　at　
the　earliest；〃　he　admitted　sheepishly。　

〃Ch　—　Dad；　I　don't　really　know　anything　about　cars。　I　wouldn't　be　able　to　
fix　it　if　anything　went　wrong；　and　I　couldn't　afford　a　mechanic…〃　

〃Really；　Bella；　the　thing　runs　great。　They　don't　build　them　like　that　
anymore。〃　

The　thing；　I　thought　to　myself…　it　had　possibilities　—　as　a　nickname；　at　
the　very　least。　

〃How　cheap　is　cheap？〃　After　all；　that　was　the　part　I　couldn't　promise　
on。　

〃Well；　honey；　I　kind　of　already　bought　it　for　you。　As　a　homeing　gift。〃　
Charlie　peeked　sideways　at　me　with　a　hopeful　expression。　

Wow。　Free。　

〃You　didn't　need　to　do　that；　Dad。　I　was　going　to　buy　myself　a　car。〃　

〃I　don't　mind。　I　want　you　to　be　happy　here。〃　He　was　looking　ahead　at　the　
road　when　he　said　this。　Charlie　wasn't　fortable　with　expressing　his　
emotions　out　loud。　I　inherited　that　from　him。　So　I　was　looking　straight　
ahead　as　I　responded。　

〃That's　really　nice；　Dad。　Thanks。　I　really　appreciate　it。〃　No　need　to　add　
that　my　being　happy　in　Forks　is　an　impossibility。　He　didn't　need　to　
suffer　along　with　me。　And　I　never　looked　a　free　truck　in　the　mouth　—　or　
engine。　

〃Well；　now；　you're　wele；〃　he　mumbled；　embarrassed　by　my　thanks。　

We　exchanged　a　few　more　ments　on　the　weather；　which　was　wet；　and　that　
was　pretty　much　it　for　Conversation。　We　stared　out　the　windows　in　silence。　

It　was　beautiful；　of　course；　I　couldn't　deny　that。　Everything　was　green：　
the　trees；　their　trunks　covered　with　moss；　their　branches　hanging　with　a　
canopy　of　it；　the　ground　covered　with　ferns。　Even　the　air　filtered　down　
greenly　through　the　leaves。　

It　was　too　green　—　an　alien　pla。　

Eventually　we　made　it　to　Charlie's。　He　still　lived　in　the　small；　
twobedroom　house　that　he'd　bought　with　my　mother　in　the　early　days　of　
their　marriage。　Those　were　the　only　kind　of　days　their　marriage　had　—　the　
early　ones。　There；　parked　on　the　street　in　front　of　the　house　that　never　
changed；　was　my　new　—　well；　new　to　me　—　truck。　It　was　a　faded　red　color；　
with　big；　rounded　fenders　and　a　bulbous　cab。　To　my　intense　surprise；　I　
loved　it。　I　didn't　know　if　it　would　run；　but　I　could　see　myself　in　it。　
Plus；　it　was　one　of　those　solid　iron　affairs　that　never　gets　damaged　—　
the　kind　you　see　at　the　scene　of　an　accident；　paint　unscratched；　
surrounded　by　the　pieces　of　the　foreign　car　it　had　destroyed。　

〃Wow；　Dad；　I　love　it！　Thanks！〃　Now　my　horrific　day　tomorrow　would　be　just　
that　much　less　dreadful。　I　wouldn't　be　faced　with　the　choice　of　either　
walking　two　miles　in　the　rain　to　school　or　accepting　a　ride　in　the　
Chief's　cruiser。　

〃I'm　glad　you　like　it；〃　Charlie　said　gruffly；　embarrassed　again。　

It　took　only　one　trip　to　get　all　my　stuff　upstairs。　I　got　the　west　
bedroom　that　faced　out　over　the　front　yard。　The　room　was　familiar；　it　had　
been　belonged　to　me　since　I　was　born。　The　wooden　floor；　the　light　blue　
walls；　the　peaked　ceiling；　the　yellowed　lace　curtains　around　the　window　—　
these　were　all　a　part　of　my　childhood。　The　only　changes　Charlie　had　ever　
made　were　switching　the　crib　for　a　bed　and　adding　a　desk　as　I　grew。　The　
desk　now　held　a　secondhand　puter；　with　the　phone　line　for　the　modem　
stapled　along　the　floor　to　the　nearest　phone　jack。　This　was　a　stipulation　
from　my　mother；　so　that　we　could　stay　in　touch　easily。　The　rocking　chair　
from　my　baby　days　was　still　in　the　corner。　

There　was　only　one　small　bathroom　at　the　top　of　the　stairs；　which　I　would　
have　to　share　with　Charlie。　I　was　trying　not　to　dwell　too　much　on　that　
fact。　

One　of　the　best　things　about　Charlie　is　he　doesn't　hover。　He　left　me　
alone　to　unpack　and　get　settled；　a　feat　that　would　have　been　altogether　
impossible　for　my　mother。　It　was　nice　to　be　alone；　not　to　have　to　smile　
and　look　pleased；　a　relief　to　stare　dejectedly　out　the　window　at　the　
sheeting　rain　and　let　just　a　few　tears　escape。　I　wasn't　in　the　mood　to　go　
on　a　real　crying　jag。　I　would　save　that　for　bedtime；　when　I　would　have　to　
think　about　the　ing　morning。　

Forks　High　School　had　a　frightening　total　of　only　three　hundred　and　
fiftyseven　—　now　fiftyeight　—　students；　there　were　more　than　seven　
hundred　people　in　my　junior　class　alone　back　home。　All　of　the　kids　here　
had　grown　up　together　—　their　grandparents　had　been　toddlers　together。　

I　would　be　the　new　girl　from　the　big　city；　a　curiosity；　a　freak。　

Maybe；　if　I　looked　like　a　girl　from　Phoenix　should；　I　could　work　this　to　

my　advantage。　But　physically；　I'd　never　fit　in　anywhere。　I　should　be　tan；　
sporty；　blond　—　a　volleyball　player；　or　a　cheerleader；　perhaps　—　all　the　
things　that　go　with　living　in　the　valley　of　the　sun。　

Instead；　I　was　ivoryskinned；　without　even　the　excuse　of　blue　eyes　or　red　
hair；　despite　the　constant　sunshine。　I　had　always　been　slender；　but　soft　
somehow；　obviously　not　an　athlete；　I　didn't　have　the　necessary　handeye　
coordination　to　play　sports　without　humiliating　myself　—　and　harming　both　
myself　and　anyone　else　who　stood　too　close。　

When　I　finished　putting　my　clothes　in　the　old　pine　dresser；　I　took　my　bag　
of　bathroom　necessities　and　went　to　the　munal　bathroom　to　clean　myself　
up　after　the　day　of　travel。　I　looked　at　my　face　in　the　mirror　as　I　
brushed　through　my　tangled；　damp　hair。　Maybe　it　was　the　light；　but　
already　I　looked　sallower；　unhealthy。　My　skin　could　be　pretty　—　it　was　
very　clear；　almost　translucentlooking　—　but　it　all　depended　on　color。　I　
had　no　color　here。　

Facing　my　pallid　reflection　in　the　mirror；　I　was　forced　to　admit　that　I　
was　lying　to　myself。　It　wasn't　just　physically　that　I'd　never　fit　in。　And　
if　I　couldn't　find　a　niche　in　a　school　with　three　thousand　people；　what　
were　my　chances　here？　

I　didn't　relate　well　to　people　my　age。　Maybe　the　truth　was　that　I　didn't　
relate　well　to　people；　period。　Even　my　mother；　who　I　was　closer　to　than　
anyone　else　on　the　pla；　was　never　in　harmony　with　me；　never　on　exactly　
the　same　page。　Sometimes　I　wondered　if　I　was　seeing　the　same　things　
through　my　eyes　that　the　rest　of　the　world　was　seeing　through　theirs。　
Maybe　there　was　a　glitch　in　my　brain。　But　the　cause　didn't　matter。　All　
that　mattered　was　the　effect。　And　tomorrow　would　be　just　the　beginning。　



I　didn't　sleep　well　that　night；　even　after　I　was　done　crying。　The　
constant　whooshing　of　the　rain　and　wind　across　the　roof　wouldn't　fade　
into　the　background。　I　pulled　the　faded　old　quilt　over　my　head；　and　later　
added　the　pillow；　too。　But　I　couldn't　fall　asleep　until　after　midnight；　
when　the　rain　finally　settled　into　a　quieter　drizzle。　

Thick　fog　was　all　I　could　see　out　my　window　in　the　morning；　and　I　could　
feel　the　claustrophobia　creeping　up　on　me。　You　could　never　see　the　sky　
here；　it　was　like　a　cage。　

Breakfast　with　Charlie　was　a　quiet　event。　He　wished　me　good　luck　at　
school。　I　thanked　him；　knowing　his　hope　was　wasted。　Good　luck　tended　to　
avoid　me。　Charlie　left　first；　off　to　the　police　station　that　was　his　wife　
and　family。　After　he　left；　I　sat　at　the　old　square　oak　table　in　one　of　
the　three　unmatching　chairs　and　examined　his　small　kitchen；　with　its　dark　
paneled　walls；　bright　yellow　cabis；　and　white　linoleum　floor。　Nothing　
was　changed。　My　mother　had　painted　the　cabis　eighteen　years　ago　in　an　
attempt　to　bring　some　sunshine　into　the　house。　Over　the　small　fireplace　
in　the　adjoining　handkerchiefsized　family　room　was　a　row　of　pictures。　
First　a　wedding　picture　of　Charlie　and　my　mom　in　Las　Vegas；　then　one　of　
the　three　of　us　in　the　hospital　after　I　was　born；　taken　by　a　helpful　
nurse；　followed　by　the　procession　of　my　school　pictures　up　to　last　
year's。　Those　were　embarrassing　to　look　at　—　I　would　have　to　see　what　I　
could　do　to　get　Charlie　to　put　them　somewhere　else；　at　least　while　I　was　
living　here。　

It　was　impossible；　being　in　this　house；　not　to　realize　that　Charlie　had　
never　gotten　over　my　mom。　It　made　me　unfortable。　

I　didn't　want　to　be　too　early　to　school；　but　I　couldn't　stay　in　the　house　
anymore。　I　donned　my　jacket　—　which　had　the　feel　of　a　biohazard　suit　—　
and　headed　out　into　the　rain。　

It　was　just　drizzling　still；　not　enough　to　soak　me　through　immediately　as　
I　reached　for　the　house　key　that　was　always　hidden　under　the　eaves　by　the　
door；　and　locked　up。　The　sloshing　of　my　new　waterproof　boots　was　
unnerving。　I　missed　the　normal　crunch　of　gravel　as　I　walked。　I　couldn't　
pause　and　admire　my　truck　again　as　I　wanted；　I　was　in　a　hurry　to　get　out　
of　the　misty　wet　that　swirled　around　my　head　and　clung　to　my　hair　under　

my　hood。　

Inside　the　truck；　it　was　nice　and　dry。　Either　Billy　or　Charlie　had　
obviously　cleaned　it　up；　but　the　tan　upholstered　seats　still　smelled　
faintly　of　tobacco；　gasoline；　and　peppermint。　The　engine　started　quickly；　
to　my　relief；　but　loudly；　roaring　to　life　and　then　idling　at　top　volume。　
Well；　a　truck　this　old　was　bound　to　have　a　flaw。　The　antique　radio　
worked；　a　plus　that　I　hadn't　expected。　

Finding　the　school　wasn't　difficult；　though　I'd　never　been　there　before。　
The　school　was；　like　most　other　things；　just　off　the　highway。　I