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A teen novel by Catherine Stine
Excerpt from chapter two
"Ma! I can't believe you! You pretend to be friendly, but–"
"Why do you think I'm pretending?" Lynn flipped back her braids. "I like those kids. They're in here all the time. If I were a racist, I would move Bodhisattva way up the coast in some prissy tourist trap of a beach town, not here on these Manhattan streets, and we'd call it something like Tiffany's Trinkets, or Baubles by the Sea."
"You're warped!" Charity giggled, despite herself.
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A short story for middle-graders by Catherine Stine in Be Careful What You Wish For edited by Lois Metzger Available through Scholastic Book Clubs in November, 2007  Question: What could be worse for Joanna, sixth grade soccer star, than having to work on a history project with Candace, the prissiest girl in class? Answer: Having the project be a fashion contest! At least Jo gets to pick Native American fashions. And there's one more consolation: Candace has no clue how hard it could be to sew a fancy colonial dress! |
Charity nodded. "Business has been good this summer."
"I'm certainly not complaining," said Lynn. "But it means I'll have to make my trek sooner than planned." Her mother traveled to India every few years to scout for new goods. "Got to update," she said, "find new deals, see what the new millennium Indian teens are wearing." She started to cough.
Charity walked over to her mom and rested her head on her broad shoulder. She inhaled the heady mix of patchouli and weed and verbena–the scent that reminded her of all that was earthy and warm about her mom, but also hopeless. "Take me with you to India this time, Ma."
Charity always said this. Lynn had only taken her once, right after they moved to New York, when she was four. Charity was a month and a half shy of fifteen now, but even from that trip long ago the searing colors of the ladies' saris still burned in her memory, as did the fever of the endless sky and the red dust, which had coated the inside of her nostrils. She remembered the beggar with the monkey who did tricks, could almost taste the sugarcoated nut candies from the spice bazaar. And Charity's relatives were somewhere over in South India, that much she knew.
Her mom didn't want her to find them, because then Charity might track down her father, who was responsible for her butterscotch skin, her black agate eyes and her slender frame. He was the one Charity longed to know. The external evidence was there. If she could only meet him, she might finally discover who she was...inside.
"You're new to your school, Charity. You can't afford to miss classes." With a furrowed brow, Lynn pulled away to reexamine the jewelry display case. She opened the door in the back, brushed some lint off the velveteen then re-latched it. "Besides, I'll need to go by Thanksgiving, actually earlier. Maybe I'll take you next time."
Charity sighed. It was always 'next time.'
Text copyright Catherine Stine, 2007
All Rights Reserved
