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The blinds flipped open, and Amaranthine crawled onto the plush seats again, on her knees and gazing at the white dashes on the road as they rushed by. She tried to count them, but to no avail - they all ran together eventually, and anyway, Amaranthine had never gotten good at counting; she'd had no reason to do it, before. And, all of the sudden, the girl saw something. As Mr. Parker slowed at an intersection, Amaranthine could just pick out a lone figure standing on the perpendicular road, waving its arms madly. The form looked womanly, and it appeared to have a bag slung over its shoulder, but, other than that, the girl could pick out nothing. As quickly as she could, Amaranthine ran up to the driver's compartment. "Do you see that girl?" she asked loudly, and Mr. Parker glanced over. "Yeah, sorry sight," he said. "Hitchhiking, no doubt." "But we must give her a ride," Amaranthine insisted, grabbing hold of Mr. Parker's shoulder. "Look at her, she must be so cold." "Look, Amsy, that's sweet of you," he said, "but we can't just pick up any old person." "You don't know that she's old," Amaranthine said indignantly, "and anyway, I wish you wouldn't call me that. Please give her a chance. I beg of you. We can always ask her to get off. Imagine if you were in her place --" The man sighed. He had never been able to say no to Amaranthine properly. "Fine," he said, putting on the break and pulling the door open. "Hop in," he shouted. "Where you headed?" "Oh my God, thank you!" a young voice shouted, and, in moments, the girl was on board. She was beautiful, with smooth skin and thick red hair twisted into dreadlocks, and thick-rimmed black glasses. Her clothes were dirty, as was her satchel, but her eyes were bright. "No problem," Mr. Parker said, taking her in with an odd expression on his face. "Are you going to be passing anywhere near Chicago?" the girl asked. "I, um ... I heard there was a really good school there." "You are looking for a school?" Amaranthine asked, cocking her head and blinking. "Why?" "Because," said the girl, her eyes sparkling, "I want to learn! Don't you know how it is? You just want to know all there is to know about everything...." She trailed off, and laughed. "Sorry, I should introduce myself before I go all crazy on you. My name's Dilani." "I am called Amaranthine," the girl said, "and this is Mr. Parker. Mrs. Allweather is still asleep." "Amaranthine," Dilani repeated. "Of the Amaranth. Eternal beauty, ever lasting. It's a pretty name." The girl blinked, then smiled. "Thank you," she said. "You are very kind. What does your name mean?" Dilani shrugged. "I dunno," she admitted. "I think mom just made it up. Anyway, it's really kind of you guys to pick me up like this. I'm sure I look like some kind of pothead. That's why nobody else will stop for me. You wouldn't happen to have a shower on this ... thing, would you?" "Sure, right in the bathroom back there," Mr. Parker said, nodding over his shoulder while still keeping one eye on the road. "Glad to have you with us." "God damn, this is insane!" Dilani exclaimed, looking around at the extravagance of the RV. "I'll try not to get shit on everything." "It's easy to clean," Mr. Parker offered. "Make yourself comfortable." "That won't be too hard," Dilani murmured in awe, disappearing into the bathroom. "There," said Mr. Parker as the door closed, "are you happy?" "She seems colorful," Amaranthine said with a happy smile. "Do you think that she is really looking for a school?" "Well," Mr. Parker said, "her bag is sitting outside of the bathroom. See what's in it." "That's rude!" Amaranthine exclaimed. "You taught me that when I tried to open your drawers and look at all your nice clothes." "Yes, well," Mr. Parker said, coughing, "this is different. This is to see if she's safe." "She certainly seems safe," Amaranthine murmured, but, nevertheless, she walked over to the dirty satchel and snapped it open as quietly as she could. The first thing she saw was a book with the words Political Theory on the cover. "I think that she is telling the truth," Amaranthine declared. "Keep looking," said Mr. Parker. Amaranthine moved the Political Theory book aside. Beneath it were countless spiral notebooks with pens and mechanical pencils stuck in the wire bindings. Amaranthine opened one, and began to read at a random point. The only way, it said, to properly integrate public schools is to institute a standard by which all schools should operate. Not only must this standard be universal, but it must not be one that hinders children in any way. They should not be reading 'at grade level,' they should be able to read a certain book, and then be able to read whatever they wish. Obviously it is not as simple as this, but, with thought and careful planning, it can be done.... Amaranthine shut the book, pulled another one out, and read. The only way to find a role model is to truly look at the heart of a person. If we do not know the person in and out, how do we know how they would react to a given situation? And if we do not know how they will react, how can we model our own reaction after what they would do? For is the purpose of a role model not to dictate the manner in which you go about your actions? No, you cannot look at celebrity or at fame and say, 'that is my role model.' You must look at the person and all their mind and heart, with every perfection and every flaw, and say, then, there is someone I trust enough to dictate the way I live my life.... "She is very wise," Amaranthine said vaguely, thumbing through a few more notebooks. "She writes of many fascinating things. I will enjoy speaking with her more." "'S a good thing we picked her up, then," Mr. Parker smiled. "It's going to be a long trip." "So, what brings you mismatched adventurers together?" The four were sitting around in the living room, the RV momentarily parked in a rest area. After the initial flurry of introductions with Mrs. Allweather and Dilani, they proceeded to sit in rather awkward silence, taking one another in. Finally, the dreadlocked girl had broken the silence, warily and with great trepidation. "I am looking for a man with black eyes," Amaranthine said shyly. "We believe we have found him, and we are traveling to Alaska to see if we are right." "Alaska, fun!" Dilani murmured. "Always wanted to see that place. I love husky dogs." A brief pause ensued, during which Mr. Parker and Mrs. Allweather looked at each other questioningly. Finally, Amaranthine spoke the thought that was on both their minds. "Should you come with us?" she asked. "We can always use someone new to help us search." "Oh, I'd love to!" Dilani cried. "Um ... yeah, that is, if you don't mind, Mr. Parker, sir. I'm already intruding kind of a lot, I mean, I don't mean to, but I can always leave any time --" "No, no, it's fine," said Mr. Parker quickly, out of sheer politeness. "The RV's big enough for all of us." "Besides, you write beautiful words," Amaranthine said, pointing at Dilani's satchel. "I would love to talk to you about them." "Oh, that," Dilani laughed. "Yeah, those are just my ramblings. I need to weed through them and find the good stuff so I can publish it all. I want to go to school and get a degree in Political Science, so people take me seriously." "But they must take you seriously!" Amaranthine exclaimed. "I read a bit of it, and I cannot imagine how people could dismiss your words just because you have not gone to a college." "Yeah, well, look at me," Dilani said, cynicism in her voice. "Dreads are the only way I can keep this shit clean, or I'd have hair like ... well, like yours," she said, nodding at Mrs. Allweather, who was sitting quietly to the side. "And I'd have lip stick and eyeliner and some nice black dress and three-inch pumps, and then people would listen to me. I'd look like the respectable sort, not like some drunk they pulled of the street and told to write a book." "Maybe people will respect you because you are like them," Amaranthine offered. "Because you are who you are, and you are not ... how did you put it in your notebook? You are not a plastic mannequin." "Nah, I've tried that," Dliani said. "I've been to about a thousand editors with this shit, and none of them listen to me. They just assume it's something I thought up when I was in some illegal state of mind." "I think you are very respectable," Amaranthine said. "You are wise. I would like to read your book, when you finish it." "If," Dilani muttered, but she looked pleased. "Okay," said Mr. Parker, "sorry to interrupt, but if we're going to stay on schedule, I need to get driving. Excuse me." He stood up, stretched, and marched up to his driver's compartment, flexing his fingers to get them ready for gripping the wheel. "And I think I need to take a little nap, if you don't mind," Mrs. Allweather smiled. "Where are you going to sleep, Dliani?" "Oh, oh, out here," Dilani laughed. "I don't need a fancy bed. Something soft under my head instead of this bag of crap is good enough for me." "Okay, then," Mrs. Allweather said, and she walked quickly into the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "I must speak with her," said Amaranthine, "if you don't mind. Sleep well." "Thanks, you too," Dilani said. "One question, though." "Yes?" "I know you're looking for this guy," said Dilani. "I understand that. But what're you going to do when it's done? When you've gotten what you were looking for?" Amaranthine paused, and looked down. "I must say," she said, after a while, "I do not know." Dilani shrugged, and shifted into a resting position, her head on the arm of the couch. "Something to think about," she said. "Believe me, I have the same problem. This book has been, like, my entire life. It's like everything after this just won't matter." "I think that you will have a good life," Amaranthine said vaguely. "You are a strong young woman." "Bah, you're so tired you're delirious," Dilani yawned, flipping the switch on the overhead skylight so that the entire room was instantly bathed in darkness. "Get some sleep, kid. See you in the morning." "See you," Amaranthine repeated, and she walked into the bedroom and closed the door. "She makes you nervous. Why does she make you nervous?" "I don't know," Mrs. Allweather said, watching Amaranthine closely. "Many things. Her mouth, for one. Such language I haven't heard from anyone in my life!" "It is her character," Amaranthine said. "It is the way she has always spoken. They are just words, nothing more." "I ... I don't want to start talking like that, too," Mrs. Allweather said. "It seems like something only ..." She stopped, and looked away. "Like only stupid people do?" Amaranthine asked. "Well, when you say it like that--" "Because she is not stupid. You will have to read some of her book. Or do you not want to start thinking like her, as well?" "Listen, I'm a good Christian woman. I don't like ..." Amaranthine held up her hand, and Mrs. Allweather stopped talking, her mouth open foolishly. "Perhaps," said Amaranthine, "if you read what she has to say with an open heart and an open mind, you would learn something. I think that her ideas and yours are not very different, essentially. She may act on her ideas in a way that you believe is ... unorthodox, but I think that, if you thought about it, her thoughts do not contest with yours in any way." Mrs. Allweather sighed, looking pointedly away. "All right, I'll read a bit," she said. "It couldn't hurt." Amaranthine smiled. "I'm sure Dilani will be very happy," she said, lying down and turning off the light. "Good night, Mrs. Allweather." The woman sighed in the dark, then smiled. "Good night, Amaranthine." |