Page 138 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“I’ll say what I want. I can’t compare to my father. I can’t even compare to Adair. I can’t do anything right.”

“Your ma tell you that?”

“What? I don’t know. Why would you even ask me that?”

He folds his arms and raises one eyebrow. He’s looking at me—no, through me. What the fuck?

“Guid gear comes in sma’ bulk,” he finally says. I don’t answer him. I take a long drag and blow out a big cloud of smoke. “It’s an English phrase,” he continues.

“I know, Mr. Glas. I’ve heard it before. It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I’m a small guy, too. I’m pretty successful and happy. Just because you aren’t a farmer doesn’t mean you can’t be something else. You ever thought about being a baker?”

I laugh again. My mum would never want me to be a baker. She scoffs at Mr. Glas any turn she gets. She says he does “women’s work,” and that he’s a “feeble man.” Actually, she’s speaks very unkindly about him for no real reason. Then again, she does the same to me...except to my face.

“Mr. Glas? Please leave me alone.”

“I just thought maybe you’d like to be my new apprentice. I could use some help around here, and it would keep you out of trouble. Get your mind off of things. We could spend some time together. That would be very nice, I think. We could—”

“I’m not in any trouble. Thanks for worrying about me. I appreciate it very much, but I don’t want to be your apprentice. I don’t want to live anywhere on Na h-Eileanan Siar, and Iespeciallydon’t want to live here. Look, just, please... Go back inside. I’m fine, really.”

I take one last drag of my cigarette and crush it into the cobblestone.

He sighs. “Well, if you change your mind...”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

He goes back inside of the bakery. Jesus, Mary, and St. Joseph...

I stare straight ahead. Maybe she’s not coming. Maybe she couldn’t get here after all. Maybe her parents said, “No, you can’t see that farm boy you just met yesterday.” It would make sense. I wouldn’t let my daughter hang out with me.

I wait another five minutes. I contemplate going home, but then I see her turn the corner. I smile.

She runs towards me. “Hallo!”

She gives me a hug. I’m so stunned that I don’t even hug her back. I just stand there, paralyzed. She releases her embrace.

“Do you have another cigarette?”

“What?” I laugh.

“You smell like smoke. Share?”

“Sure. I rolled them myself.”

I reach into my pocket, pull one out, and hand it over. She sticks it in her mouth. I light the cigarette for her with my matchbook.

“Thanks!” She takes a drag. “Any good bars around here?”

I feel my face drain of all color.

“Uhm, Teva... I’m only fifteen.”

“So? Me too.”

I feel relieved.

“Oh... You have to be eighteen on the islands. Is that different in Glasgow?”

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