“Ma said it would be all right as long as they didn’t stay too late. It was Friday, and I’d done most of my homework. The only thing I had had in mind to do that evening was to try and put together a cardboard model of an Elizabethan theater Uncle Philip had sent me. He’d been giving me models since I was little. I was not good at making them; I wasn’t handy with glue or paste, and cutting and matching. I either got the glue in my hair or crusts of paste all over my hands. There would come a mom...ent when I’d start slashing away with the scissors, snipping off those essential little tabs that fit other tabs. What I’d end up with wouldn’t be the castle or cathedral or manor house Uncle Philip had given me but a shack for hoboes. But I always felt obliged to try once more. Grownups get some idea about you in their minds, and it won’t go away. “Just keep on working at it, Tory,” Uncle Philip would say when he saw the shambles I’d made. “It’ll come to you.” Now I stuck the model under a pile of books, took a sneaker of mine from the living-room couch and hurled it into my bedroom, and changed my wrinkled shirt for another shirt that was just as wrinkled but of a different color.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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