Moonglass

keep us up at night, wondering. It’s human nature to want answers.” I swore her eyes flicked to me for a second before she went on. “So that’s where we’ll start. With questions that need to be answered. Tomorrow. I’m gonna give you the rest of the period today to flip through your books, read the intro, and come up with a question you think people, as in humans, need answered. A big question. And I’ll be willing to bet there’s a myth that takes a crack at it.”
    Nobody moved.
    “Go on now. Get your books and paper out and your brains going. It’s time to start thinking.” Backpacks unzipped and papers rustled around me. I just sat there. It had felt like she was talking just to me the whole time, like she knew what I was thinking, and it had me almost frozen. There were things I’d thought I wanted answered for a long time, but I wasn’t sure of them anymore. It seemed like the answers could be worse than the wondering. It was why I tiptoed around the topic of my mom just as much as my dad did. I’d yet to find out why he hadn’t told me about her living at the cove, or when they left, or what their story was, but the unknown was frightening. Maybe it was something too hard for him to tell , that would put us back in the painful place we were in for so long after she was gone. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to know. Maybe she could just stay a question, like the crawling man, a kind of myth of her own. My mother.
    I pulled out my English notebook and opened it to the first page, which was still clean and blank. My pencil hovered over the center of the page. Around me, most people sat the same way, either flipping pages in the book or staring at blank notebook pages, unsure of how to proceed. For a teacher she’d left things pretty wide open. The seconds ticking away on the clock were now audible. Joy (I still couldn’t think of her differently) walked softly to the first desk in my aisle, paused to look at the boy’s notebook, then made her way down the row. When she got to my desk, she put a hand on my shoulder, but I stiffened and she took it away.
    “No questions yet, huh?” I shook my head. “Well, give yourself some time. I’m sure you’ll come up with a few.” She took a step to leave, but then paused.
    “Why don’t you stay after class a minute. I’ve got something for you.”
    For the rest of the period I yearned for and dreaded the bell . When it finally rang, I took in a deep breath and slowly packed up my stuff. The room cleared out, and I was left standing uncomfortably, backpack slung over one shoulder, ready to make a quick exit if need be.
    Once everyone was gone, she walked over to a packed shelf behind her desk and pulled a worn book out, flipping through it with a faint smile. “You may like this one. Your mother sure did. Said it inspired some of her paintings.”
    Paintings?
    The question must have shown on my face.
    “She was a brilliant artist, even at a young age. I think it was the way she tried to work things out for herself. We’ve all got something we do, and hers was painting.” She nodded to herself. “I’m guessing your dad didn’t save any of her work, then.” I had no memory of her painting. Ever. Never heard my dad mention it either. I stared down at the book she held out to me. Adorning the cover, in curling ornate lettering, was the title Mermaids : Daughters of the Sea .
    I didn’t say anything. She pushed it gently into my hands. “Take it. It’s a place to start.”
    “Thanks,” I managed, pushing it to the crook of my arm.
    “Anna,” she said softly, “Answers to most of our questions do exist. You just have to ask them.”
    “Yeah,” I said curtly. “I need to go. Um … thank you for this.” I walked past her and out the door, sure of two things: One, I needed to change my English class, and two, I could run for miles today and not feel a thing.
    “Long. Slow. Distance…. Also known as LSD in running. It’s what you’ll be doing today.” Coach Martin stood in the center of a ring of stretching runners.
    He put his clipboard behind his back and walked the ring our feet made as we reached for our toes. “Today’s run is about enduring. It’s about getting your mind to a place where it can rest and let your body take over. Don’t look at your watch, don’t guess the mileage, and don’t think. Just run. Settle into a pace that you can hold as long as I ask you to.” I didn’t flinch. All the better. Bent in a