“And you’ll be safe,” my mother said, practically whispering to herself.
I looked at her and at my father. This was something I could do for them as much as for myself, I thought. I flipped through the pamphlet.
“Actually, I’m pretty excited about getting one of my students into this place,” Mr. VanVleet added, smiling.
My mother looked like she was going to cry at any moment.
“It would be like going to college, I guess,” I said quickly. “My family could come see me.”
“Whenever they want. It’s a well-protected place, but they’re permissive about some things. But make no mistake, they want their students to be happy and reach the height of their capabilities. You’re going to be challenged by your fellow students. This is no walk in the park.”
I smiled. “Yes, Mr. VanVleet. That’s what we can call what I’ve been doing up to now, walking in the park.”
He smiled, too. “I’ll handle all the arrangements for you.”
“When would she go?” my mother asked.
“As soon as you want. There’s no beginning or end, no semesters as we know them.”
“You mean, she could go tomorrow?” my father asked.
“Probably. Yes. I can do that,” Mr. VanVleet said.
My father looked at me. “You want this?”
“Yes,” I said.
“If she doesn’t like it, she can always come back,” Mr. VanVleet said. “There are no penalties. You’ll have no costs.”
“Oh, there’s a cost,” my mother muttered.
I knew what she meant. There was a cost to her, to my father, to my brother and sister, and, yes, to me. I was going to be cut loose like some satellite that had broken out of the earth’s pull and would now wander out there, exploring the unknown.
In a true sense, I would never return.
My father shook Mr. VanVleet’s hand. Mr. VanVleet reached for mine. “I’m happy for you,” he said.
“Thank you.”
After Mr. VanVleet left, my mother asked me again if this was something I really wanted to do.
“Oh, yes,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could. It was enough to satisfy her and put her at ease, but I was sure she would go to sleep in my father’s arms after she had cried.
I didn’t cry.
My family memories were strong. The things I did with my parents, even before my brother and sister had come along, returned to my thoughts. There were hugs and kisses, and my father’s hand holding mine always gave me a sense of security. I know it troubled him that he couldn’t provide that protection absolutely now. I knew my mother would miss hugging me, talking to me, seeing me beside her while preparing dinner or for some holiday celebration. My room would ring with its hollowness, its emptiness. She might want to keep the door closed.
Just before I went to sleep, I toyed with calling Jackson, but what I feared most was the note of relief I would hear in his voice when I told him.
Better that I was just not there anymore, I thought. Let him forget me if he could. My ego wished he couldn’t.
But suddenly, it didn’t matter.
There was too much ahead of me that did.
Before I fell asleep, I had a vision. The pigeon on the stoop turned, got to its feet, shook the string off its neck, and flew away.
Just like I would.