The Road In Is Not The Same Road Out - Plot & Excerpts
Their bake sales baffling displays of unexplainable choices. They’d built themselves an indoor pool by 1979. We had none. Our curriculum embraced partnership for the sake of our physical education, so each swimming lesson was a lesson in defeat. Our cries rang off the Quonset hut’s corrugated steel. As our school failed, theirs thrived, its sprung wood gym floor, ceiling domed and beamed, classrooms around a mezzanine, they wielded it like an unassailable proof, assaulted us with it. All in that ridiculous accent, the inexplicable outfits. Now our school is gone. Where once we fought them in the parking lots, the arenas, left our blood and teeth in the arenas, on the street in front of the bar, after band concerts and ball tournaments and grad, and sometimes during, now must we compel our children to be bused there, to disembark the Blue Bird like prisoners on work detail. Will our heirs go on to name their own after the wrong soap opera characters and country music stars? Thirteen miles down the road, and you’d think it another planet, a hostile one, or overly friendly, in any case backward and impossible to understand.
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