Sara looks at me. “I just can’t come back. There’s one thing I haven’t told you. When Bob—the Great White Father—had the little powwow with me yesterday, he told me I can’t come back unless I actually sign a paper that I’ll behave ‘appropriately’.”

“No way!”

“No way in hell. I’ll never be what they think is appropriate. But, whether you like it or not, I admire you. Before I knew you, I thought you either resist or you are a no-good weasel. But you don’t stay furious all the time, and you’re no weasel. You’re smart and you’re for real. And you stay so calm. So cool. It blows me away.”

“I only stay calm because I have to. If I get upset, I lose con-trol.”

“Please, God, don’t explain it away. When I go to Norm school, I’ll try to take a vacation from impossible dreaming and remember that it’s their school, not mine. I’ll try to go with the flow, like you do, and get with the program. I’ll try to be more like you.”

She leans forward with laughter in her eyes. “Your shining example may sustain me in my journey into the Norm world. Don’t mess it up for me, okay?”

I am fighting back tears. I can’t speak.

Margie runs to us, scuffing up a little cloud of sand. “Hey, this is my ride. I’m gone. Y’all seen Willie?”

“No,” Sara says. “He’s probably hiding in the boys’ room so he won’t scare the parents. He’ll know you would’ve said good-bye. Have a good trip home.”

“Okay! See y’all next year.”

Sara doesn’t answer. Margie wraps her warm dusty arms around Sara and me and gives us happy kisses like a toddler going bye-bye. She grabs her suitcase and runs toward a white sedan. I realize I don’t know what kind of home she’s going to. A regular family, or some other place, maybe someplace where they taught her how to push wheelchairs and make beds with hospital corners? She’s never spoken of home. I’ve never asked.

“Do something for me,” Sara says as Margie’s ride pulls out. “Come back next year and explain to Margie and Willie—and everyone—why I’m not back.”

I stammer. How can I make Margie understand? How can I be the one to tell Willie, when Sara, who almost thinks he’s beautiful, can’t face him?

“And maybe, when two or three of you are gathered in my name, you’ll do something maybe a little bit—inappropriate. Get some scheme going.”