The Way the Wildflowers Grow by MJ Fields EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: MJ Fields
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available For Free Download
- Genre: Sports Fiction
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
- Publish Date: April 6, 2023
HARD TO PLACE
PHOEBE
Stepping outside the dilapidated apartment complex in Utica, sporting
my newest souvenir—a bruised eye—and as a bonus—a busted lip, I’m
met with the pungent smell of septic in the August heat.
I spot Mr. Ripley, my balding caseworker, leaning against a white car
with the large “New York State Office of Children and Family Services”
emblem on it, arms crossed with a look that might as well say, “Here we go
again,” as I walk down the deteriorating concrete steps. He is all-too-familiar
with my current situation, having been my caseworker for the past few years.
I can almost feel his judgment as I approach him.
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He looks at me with a mixture of disapproval and empathy, a silent
reminder of the long road we’ve traveled. His posture and expression indicate
that he is unenthusiastic about the situation. He’s not the only one.
He pushes off the sedan, crushes his cigarette under his worn black dress
shoe, and then steps onto the curb to open the door for me. Waving his hand
—a subtle yet courteous gesture—he invites me to make myself comfortable,
as if he were a chauffeur taking me on a luxurious ride.
I’m not. I’m nobody.
“That all you got?” he asks, pointing to the beat-up old suitcase that has
unsurprisingly stayed in my possession through it all. Surely it will break
before I get to wherever it is they’re shipping me next.
I nod as I slide into the passenger seat and set it at my feet.
He takes his time walking around the front of the car and opens the door.
With a deep breath, he settles in and we drive away.
After a few minutes of silence, he glances at me. “You have less than a
year before you graduate high school. Couldn’t make this one work either,
huh?”
I shake my head, waiting for the burn of tears to brim my eyes, but
they’ve long since dried up.
“Need a doctor?”
They ask this every time, but when Mr. Ripley asks, I notice the tick in
his jaw.
“I’m good,” I answer, because I am.
“It’s like trying to catch a leaf in the wind—no matter how hard you try,
sometimes you just can’t seem to grab a hold of it.” The way in which he
delivers this metaphor isn’t in anger; I know he has empathy for my situation.
He’s worked for OCFS for years; he knows the system is broken.
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