Sassafras, Part 57

Joan


“Is it true?” I looked up as Deana slid into the booth next to Billy. “Are you really moving back to Sassafras?”

I sighed and leaned back in the booth. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Good God, I can’t imagine living here again. Is this place any better than it was when we were in school?”

“No. This town hasn’t exactly aged gracefully.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“You should see the school now. There are a lot of new subdivisions out here, so the school is overflowing, but there aren’t as many businesses, so there isn’t enough money to pay for everything. They keep trying to raise the taxes, but it never passes the ballot. The teacher’s all suck, too. I’m not looking forward to Brian starting school.”

“Gee, thanks, Deana. Now she’s never going to move back.”

“Sorry, Bill. It’s true and you know it. Your school sucks. Every weekend one group or another is having a car wash or a bake sale to raise money for band or football or whatever. If it wasn’t for the parents paying for everything we wouldn’t still have a football team.”

“Well, at least there aren’t any gangs or drug pushers at school. Not like New York, I’m sure.”

“Bill, there are a lot of good high schools in New York.”

Billy just rolled his eyes. “I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

“See what I’ve been putting up with?”

“If you want to know the truth, I’m on Bill’s side.”

“What? Not you, too!”

“Well, I’ve lived here my whole life and I haven’t gone on a killing spree. Yet. Sometimes it’s a tempting idea. Isn’t there anything you miss about Sassafras? Or something you don’t like about New York?”

“No,” I snapped. Then I started thinking. “I miss gravel roads. Remember how we used to drive around all weekend? We never had any idea where we were going, we would just get in the car and start driving. Not a care in the world. Can you imagine how much that would cost now?”

“You wouldn’t recognize those roads now. The county paved over about half of them. So many people moved out here to get away from the city for the wide-open spaces that there aren’t any wide-open spaces left anymore.”

“There are plenty of wide open spaces around here,” Billy insisted. “Mom and I used to go camping all the time. Who wants gravel roads? You’re weird, Aunt Jo.”

“Oh, it wasn’t the gravel roads that I liked. It was just getting together with our friends and hanging out. The dust and the potholes I could have done without.”

“Well, now there aren’t any potholes, but I have friends. I don’t want to leave, Aunt Jo.”

“I know, I know. You’ve told me before. We made a deal last night and I intend to keep it.”

“What deal?” Deana asked.

“She’s moving back here.”

“I said I might. If I can find a job.”

“You promised you’d find one. I’m going to walk over to the gas station and get a Sunday paper for you before you change your mind.”

“Hey, grab me a pack of cigarettes while you’re over there.”

”Aunt Jo, I’m only 15. I can’t buy cigarettes.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. You can’t buy cigarettes, or alcohol, or drive, or vote, or take care of yourself. But you don’t need me.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“See what I put up with?” I handed him a couple of dollars. “Go ahead, Bill, get me a paper.”