Following My Toes (22 page)

“Okay, I have one more question for you. When you have a conflict with someone, and that could include a student, a fellow teacher, a parent, or an administrator, how do you handle it?”

“Well, I usually like to take some time after it’s happened, and step away, you know, so I can evaluate what role I played. After I’ve done that, I like to talk about it, see if the conflict can be worked out. If it can’t, then I need to decide how important it is to solve the conflict, and if I decide that it is important, then I ask for help, like advice, or perhaps mediation. Then I give it another try.” Wow. If I truly did that, what a balanced person I would be. “However, there are times when the other person is not going to be in a place where they can work out that conflict. In those cases, I try to be accepting, and forgiving.”

“Uhmm hmm.” said Kristin. “And this is the routine you always follow? Does it make a difference if it’s a student rather than an administrator that you are having the conflict with?”

Does it make a difference whether it’s an ex-boyfriend, nutty roommate, or psycho date from hell? No, I treat them all equally by simply screaming at them. That’s just my style. “Actually, I try not to let it make a difference. I always make an effort to be as diplomatic as possible.”

“Okay Faith! I think that about does it. Do you have any questions for me?”

I was dying to ask her if she had spoken with Ethan, but I thought doing so might seem unprofessional. Besides, if she hadn’t, I didn’t want to give her any sort of reminder that she ought to. And if she had, how could I possibly defend myself anyway? Instead, I asked her about the difference between her school and public schools, so I would seem interested and engaged. After that she told me she would let me know soon, and I went home.

As I left I realized that although I had gotten a good feeling from Kristen, I had no idea whether or not I was going to get the job. I also had no idea last night that anything bad was coming before I walked in on Missy and Margaret. Maybe my psychic abilities really never had existed; perhaps they were a form of self-absorption. But I refused to believe that someone like Missy was actually more perceptive than I was, so I told myself the same thing that I had been saying to myself for months, that my abilities were simply on hiatus.

I had been dreading going home. But I didn’t have my donut pillow with me, and there wasn’t anywhere else I could think of to go anyway. Plus, I couldn’t avoid Missy and Margaret forever. Might as well get the confrontation out of the way.

When I walked in I saw Margaret on the couch, watching television and petting Thomas.

“Hey, how did your interview go?”

“Fine, she said she’d let me know in a couple of days.”

“Well, I hope you get it.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed my pillow, and sat down next to her. She was still petting Thomas, who was purring very loudly, and alternately squinting up at her and licking her hand.

“I think he likes me, we’ve been cuddling all day.” I laughed and reached over and petted him myself.

“Doesn’t he remind you of Whiskers?” asked Margaret. Whiskers was the cat we owned when I was eight and Margaret was six. Tragically, he was run over one day, and it was Margaret who found him dead. I don’t think she ever quite got over it, which is probably why our parents never got us another cat. Yet Whiskers had been nothing like Thomas, he was aloof and prone to biting. But why destroy Margaret’s memory of him?

“Sure. I can see the similarities,” I said. They were both cats after all, so it wasn’t a total lie. We sat there for a moment, lavishing our attention on Thomas, who loved every minute of it. But I couldn’t stand the silence for too long, so I gave in and asked.

“Where’s Missy?”

“She had errands to do before work,” Margaret stated simply.

“So, um are you two a... a couple?”

“Would that be so awful if we were?”

“Why can’t you answer the question?”

“Why can’t you lay off?”

Swell. “I will lay off, if that’s what you want. But I think I have a right to know if my roommate and my sister are a couple. So answer me yes or no, and then we can drop the whole thing.”

“God, Faith, things sure are simple in your world, aren’t they?”

“How so?”

“You’re either a couple or you’re not. You’re a tramp or a good girl. You’re gay or you’re not.”

“Are you gay?”

“Faith!” Margaret looked up towards the ceiling and rolled her eyes. But her eyes met my own as she started in on her next state-ment. “I’m not like you. Maybe I don’t know myself as well. Maybe you have a better idea of what you want than I do. But for me, there are no easy answers. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, or whom I want to spend it with. So I thought I would come down here, and just be open to the experiences that presented themselves. Is that so awful?”

“No. But you need to be careful. And I don’t think Missy is the right person to get involved with.”

“First of all, we’re not involved. And second, what do you know? You’ve always been careful, and yet you still wind up getting hurt.”

“That is not true.”

“Whatever. Listen Faith, I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself. And believe it or not, Missy is not all that bad. She just has different standards than you do. At least she doesn’t go around afraid all the time. You could learn a lot from her.”

“I don’t go around afraid all the time.”

“Please! Faith, you are the queen of going around afraid all the time.”

Margaret probably thought that because while we were growing up I had been somewhat cautious. I was the type of kid who saved up my allowance for a rainy day, then never spent it all. When we went to the state fair, Margaret always rode the roller coaster while I opted for visiting the pig house. And I was never one for going to parties where I wouldn’t know very many people, but that had never bothered Margaret. So she always had more friends than I did, and they admired her for her carefree spirit. But I had changed since high school, and I needed to convince her of that. “I moved down here, that was brave!”

“The only reason you moved down here was because it was easier than staying and dealing with your feelings about Lacey and Peter.”

I got up. “I don’t need to sit here for this. You’re the one who followed me down here, so ...”

“Faith! Fine, be mad. But listen to me. All I’m saying, and believe me, I’m saying it for your own good, is maybe if you stopped looking for your psychic abilities to give you permission to be happy or sad, you’d notice there’s a whole world out there, and it’s waiting for you to notice it.”

“Margaret, that is the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard! The world isn’t waiting for me to notice it; the world couldn’t give two shits about me. It will go on spinning whether I notice it or not, and if you don’t realize that, then you’re living in a dream world.”

“That’s honestly sad, if that’s what you think.”

“I’m being realistic Margaret. And by the way, I don’t look for my psychic abilities to give me signs, they just do. And you and Missy and everyone else can laugh at me all you want, but I know what I feel.”

“That’s my point! You don’t! You’re so busy examining what you feel that you don’t feel anything at all! And the crazy thing is, you don’t even admit to yourself that’s what you’re doing. Instead you use it as a crutch. Like if you examine the pain, you don’t have to feel the pain. It saves you from actually acting on your instincts, or going after something or someone you may want. Because doing so would be way too scary for you.”

Could she be right? If she was, I certainly wasn’t going to admit it, especially not to her. “Look Margaret. We’re just very different. Okay? So let’s drop the whole thing. You do what you want, and I’ll stay out of it.”

I started to walk away, but Margaret got up and followed me into my room. “Faith, I’m sorry. But I want you to be happy.”

I turned to her. “Well, my way of finding happiness isn’t like yours. I can’t jump into bed with any-ole-one, I’m not going to change professions every time I feel bored or restless, and I don’t crash on other people’s couches, being a mooch. I have responsibilities; I’m an adult. We can’t all go around with Peter Pan complexes. So go ahead and be yourself Margaret, I won’t judge you. But don’t judge me either, okay?”

“No. Look. I realize I can be a flake.” She gave a self-conscious little laugh, and I was surprised once more at how hard it is to offend her. “I know that I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. But here’s my point. Life isn’t a math problem. There is no ‘right answer.’ There is simply one thing to do, or another, or another. The possibilities are limitless, and you’re never going to know what works for you until you try. So why not trust your instincts, and let go a little?”

I shrugged my shoulders and walked away. But I thought about what she said. I didn’t know if trusting my instincts was something I was capable of, having always followed signs. But I hadn’t been given much to go on lately. The dream I had had about the stuffing convention was the only thing I had left, and I had that dream weeks ago.

So as Carolyn and I prepared to go up North, I searched for some sort of message to guide me. Did my skin hurt? Did my toes itch? Would my dreams provide me with answers to life’s complex questions? Maybe the Waldorf philosophy isn’t off base, and we’re all, in fact, products of the environment. That reduces us to some-thing far more primal than I had ever estimated the human race to be, meaning we rely not on intellect, but on instinct. Yet, how could I not accept this theory? Truth was, I was all out of signs. Instinct was all I had left.

Chapter 17

Before Carolyn and I left town we stocked up on gas and junk-food. The weather was perfect —clear and breezy, yet there was basically no traffic as we drove up north. The only thing that needed improvement was our attitudes. Carolyn and Charles had been broken up for a couple of weeks now, and she was still acting like Bonnie Tyler songs were running an endless loop inside her head. But every time I brought Charles up she would change the subject. I looked over at her. In her black t-shirt and cutoff jean shorts she looked like she was about eighteen. However, her expression aged her several years, despite her attempt to act cheerful.

“I still think it’s so great. You got a real teaching job! And it sounds like such a cool place to teach.” We had been over this already, but if that was what she wanted to talk about, fine.

“Yeah, it is great. I feel lucky. I’m just worried. What is going to happen once she finally talks to Ethan?”

“Maybe she already has, and he didn’t say anything.”

“You would think he would have said something.”

“Hmm. Do you think there’s any chance he is the one who is stalking you?”

“No.”

“But you did at one point. Why did that change?”

I shoved some cheetos into my mouth and proceeded to explain and chew simultaneously. “Because of Max. If it’s not him, then it has to be some person who knows Missy. Missy only convinced me

it was Ethan because I was drunk. I don’t think he would do some-thing like that.”

“You don’t still like him, do you?” I had told Carolyn the story about how Ethan got Glenn pregnant then dumped her. We both knew it was taboo for me to still have feelings for him.

So I gave her the correct answer. “No!” I exclaimed, perhaps a bit too loud. Yet I couldn’t deny that somewhere in me there was still a fl ame burning for Ethan, and all of my rationalizations could not put it out. I told myself it was residual feelings from my relationship with Peter, or that it was pure physical attraction. I didn’t know how to explain it any other way.

“That’s good. Because lately, you seem to be using a lot of your energy worrying about guys. Believe me, there are much better things to be concerned about.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re an authority on this? You’re still aw-fully concerned about Charles.”

“That’s not true! I hardly talk about him at all.”

“Yeah, but Carolyn, that doesn’t mean you don’t think about him.”

Carolyn squirmed in her seat and took a gulp of her slurpee.“ At least I’m making an effort to focus on other stuff.”

“But don’t you think dealing with your feelings would also be healthy?”

“Just because I don’t talk about them doesn’t mean I’m not dealing with them. We all have different ways of handling things.”

“I know, and I have a feeling this weekend will be great for you. A change of scenery can work wonders.”

“Let’s start by changing the c.d.,” Carolyn answered. “This sappy stuff is getting on my nerves.” She turned off my Best of Air Supply compilation and switched to Elliot Smith, who may not be sappy, but he is certainly depressing.

I had been walking on eggshells around Carolyn. She was still so sensitive, and I didn’t want to say anything to piss her off. However, I failed Lacey by not getting her to talk about her dad, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake with Carolyn in regards to Charles.

So I was gently trying to get her to open up.

But Carolyn was a master at changing the subject. “So are there going to be dead animals everywhere at this thing?”

“Sort of. The people who come up are usually preparing for the big taxidermy convention down in
Duluth
in the fall. But they like to show off their mounts...”