A
      Long
      Way
      by
      Jennifer
      Baldwin
     
    
   
   
    
     
      **Hey,
      Jim,
      where
      did
      you
      day
      that
      party
      was
      going
     
     
      to
      be
      this
      weekend,
      again?
      Ican’t
      remember,’’
      I
     
     
      called
      to
      Jim
      MacIntyre
      in
      the
      Raven
      Heighta
      High
     
     
      School
      cafeteria.
     
    

    
     
      “John
      Arnold’s,
      on
      Fifth
      and
      Main,
      Saturday,’’
      he
     
     
      answered,
      shouting
      to
      make
      himself
      heard
      over
      the
     
     
      jin
      of
      the
      noon
      time
      rush.
      ‘‘I
      thought
      you
      wern’t
     
     
      illowed
      to
      go.”’
     
    

    
     
      **I
      wasn’t,
      but
      my
      parents
      were
      called
      away
      on
     
     
      jusiness
      for
      the
      weekend.
      So,
      I
      thought,
      what
      the
     
     
      iell,
      what
      they
      don’t
      know
      can’t
      hurt
      them’
      right?
     
    
   
   
    
     
      **Robyn!
      Glad
      you
      could
      make
      it!’’
      John
      yelled
     
     
      yver
      the
      music
      when
      he
      opened
      the
      door.
      I
      could
     
     
      mell
      beer
      on
      his
      breath.
      I
      walked
      into
      the
      room
      and
     
     
      iccepted
      the
      beer
      handed
      to
      me,
      gulping
      downa
     
     
      nouthful.
     
    

    
     
      **Hi,
      Robyn!’’
      I
      heard
      omn
      each
      side
      of
      meas
      I
     
     
      ushed
      my
      way
      through
      the
      crowd.
      I
      feltan
      arm
      slip
     
     
      round
      my
      waist.
      Spinning
      quickly,
      I
      almost
      spilled
     
     
      ny
      drink
      on
      my
      boyfriend.
     
    

    
     
      **I
      thought
      you
      weren’t
      allowed
      to
      come?’’
      Mark
     
     
      ranklin
      shouted
      into
      my
      ear.
     
    

    
     
      **My
      parents
      are
      away
      this
      weekend.’’
      He
      grinned,
     
     
      eading
      me
      towards
      achair.
      Sitting
      down,
      he
      puiled
     
     
      1¢
      onto
      his
      lap.
      For
      the
      next
      few
      hours
      we
      sat
      like
     
     
      hat
      fdrinking
      and
      laughing
      and
      talking
      to
      our
      friends.
     
     
      .tabout
      midnight,
      someone
      came
      over,
      holding
      outa
     
     
      igeratte.
     
    

    
     
      “Here,
      take
      a
      drag,’’
      he
      shouted,
      too
      loudly.
      I
     
     
      faved
      it
      aside,
      grinning.
     
    

    
     
      m1
      quit.’”
     
    

    
     
      “Oh,
      come
      on,
      it’s
      only
      a
      cigarette,’’
      he
      insisted.
     
     
      “Okay,’’
      I
      relented.
      ‘‘Just
      one.’’
      I
      reached
      for
      the
     
     
      igarette
      and
      took
      a
      quick
      draw
      and
      started
      to
      cough.
     
     
      Tguess
      I’m
      not
      used
      to
      smoking
      anymmore,’’
      I
     
     
      iid,
      as
      everyone
      started
      to
      laugh.
      I
      took
      a
      few
      more
     
     
      rage
      and
      coughed
      again.
      It
      was
      funny
      until
      every-
     
    

    
     
      g
      started
      to
      get
      distorted
      as
      my
      chest
      started
      to
     
     
      lave.
      |
      gripped
      Mark’s
      arm.
      ‘What’s
      happening
      to
     
     
      e?’
      lasked
      myself.
     
    

    
     
      Robyn?’’
      He
      asked,
      ‘‘aAre
      you
      okay?’’
      My
     
    

    
     
      t
      began
      heaving
      harder
      as
      I
      gasped
      for
      air,
     
     
      »byn?
      Quick,
      someone,
      getadoctor,
      FAST!"’
      he
     
    
   
   
    
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
         
     
     
        
     
     
       
     
     
       
     
     
        
     
    
   
   
    
     
      September
      26,
      1991
     
    
   
   
    
     
      Imaginations
     
    
   
   
    
     
      yelled.
      Everyone
      stood
      there,
      paralyzed.
      “‘NOW!”’
     
     
      He
      shouted.
      Someone
      ran
      for
      the
      phone,
      then
      every-
     
     
      thing
      went
      black.
     
    
   
   
    
     
      ‘*Gosh!
      What
      happened!’’
      I
      asked,
      confused,
      as
      I
     
     
      rubbed
      my
      head,
      standing
      at
      the
      edge
      ofacrowd
      of
     
     
      people.
      I
      asked
      a
      sobbing
      girl
      next
      to
      me
      what
      was
     
     
      the
      matter,
      but
      insteadd
      of
      answering
      my
      question
      she
     
     
      turned
      to
      the
      person
      mext
      to
      her
      as
      though
      I
      wasn’t
     
     
      there.
     
    

    
     
      **They
      say
      she’s
      dead!’’
      she
      sobbed.
     
    

    
     
      ‘Dead!’
      I
      thought.
      ‘My
      God,
      what
      happened?’
      I
     
     
      made
      my
      way
      through
      the
      crowd,
      squeezing
      through
     
     
      every
      gap
      I
      could
      find.
      I
      finally
      made
      my
      way
     
     
      through.
     
    

    
     
      ‘Mark?
      Why
      is
      he
      crying?’
      I
      asked
      myself.
      I
      sat
     
     
      down
      and
      put
      my
      arm
      around
      his
      shoulders.
      He
      acted
     
     
      as
      though
      he
      couldn’t
      see
      me,
      like
      I
      wasn’t
      there.
     
     
      Then
      I
      glanced
      at
      the
      body,
      glimpsing
      the
      face
      as
      the
     
     
      ambulance
      attendants
      zipped
      up
      the
      bag
      and
      I
      saw
     
     
      myself
      lying
      there,-
      cold,
      motionless,
      lifeless.
      ‘‘This
     
     
      can’tbe
      happening!’’
      I
      screamed
      asI
      jumped
      up.
     
     
      **1’mnotdead!’’
      Noone
      turned
      my
      way.
      I
      waved
     
     
      my
      hands
      in
      Mark’s
      face,
      no
      reaction.
      He
      jumped
      up
     
     
      and
      grapped
      the
      guy
      who
      had
      given
      me
      the
      cigarette.
     
    

    
     
      **What
      did
      you
      put
      in
      that
      thing?!’’
      he
      demanded,
     
     
      gripping
      the
      guy
      by
      the
      front
      of
      his
      shirt.
     
    

    
     
      **Just
      a
      little
      hash,
      man.
      I
      didn’t
      think
      it
      would
     
     
      hurt
      her!’’
      He
      stood
      there
      shaking
      as
      his
      eyes
      fol-
     
     
      lowed
      the
      attendants
      carrying
      the
      stretcher
      out
      of
      the
     
     
      house.
     
    

    
     
      **T
      should
      kill
      you
      for
      this,...”’
      Mark
      screamed,
     
     
      throing
      the
      guy
      to
      the
      floor
      and
      running
      out.
     
    

    
     
      I
      ran
      out
      of
      the
      house
      and
      walked
      home
      to
      find
      a
     
     
      police
      car
      parked
      in
      the
      driveway.
     
    

    
     
      ‘*This
      is
      all
      a
      bad
      dream,
      that’s
      all!’’
      I
      tried
      to
     
     
      convince
      myself
      as
      I
      walked
      up
      the
      driveway.
     
    

    
     
      ‘*No!’’
      [heard
      my
      brother,
      Chris,
      yell
      as
      he
      sat
     
     
      down
      and
      began
      tocry.
     
    

    
     
      ‘*Son,
      where
      are
      your
      parents?
      We
      have
      to
      notify
     
     
      themright
      away,’’
      I
      heard
      the
      officer
      ask
      gently.
     
    

    
     
      ‘*They’re
      not
      here,’’
      he
      whispered
      hoarsely,
      lifting
     
     
      his
      tear
      stained
      face.
      ‘‘They’ve
      gone
      awway
      for
      the
     
     
      weekend.
      She
      wasn’t
      supposed
      to
      be
      at
      that
      party.
     
     
      She
      never
      told
      me
      she
      was
      going.’”’
      He
      cried
      harder,
     
     
      letting
      his
      head
      fall
      to
      his
      arms
      again.
      I
      never
      heard
     
     
      the
      rest.
      Iran
      away,
      crying.
      Going
      through
      the
      back
     
     
      way,
      I
      went
      upstairs
      to
      my
      room,
      Throwing
      myself
     
     
      on
      my
      bed,
      I
      cried
      in
      convulsionss.
     
    
   
   
    
     
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