I still feel weird about going. It seems frivolous and morally wrong, and just plain selfish. My friends say I should go to honor my parents. One minute Tracy says I should go; the next, she seems angry that I’m considering it. But Shopfront is where I had that horrible thought, and a week later it happened, though not exactly the way I imagined. Mum died instantly and Dad lasted a month. It happened, and I didn’t feel powerful and brave and strong like I imagined I would. Did God punish me for my thoughts, for being so evil and self-serving? They say every kid imagines being an orphan. But how many kids actually become one? I hate the word orphan. Everyone feels sorry for the poor little orphan. I’m not a pathetic orphan. My parents just happened to die, that’s all. Auntie Connie and Uncle Steele have turned their house into a circus-style casino for a big party in my honor. They’ve organized a surprise fund-raising event for the Shopfront tour. Qantas (the airline) is sponsoring us, but every little bit helps.
