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Beautiful: Truth's Found When Beauty's Lost Part 29

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"I guess it's a new beginning for both of us."

"Yes, it is, little sister. A new beginning."

Chapter 21.

THE OUTSIDER.

The No-Longer-Anonymous Blog about Life at West Redding High



June 6 Farewell, friends. To new beginnings!

You poor neglected baby," Ellie said to her green Karmann Ghia, running her hand over the smooth slope of the hood. It had sat under the carport through the long winter.

Dad had taken her car to the auto shop while she was in the hospital. They had fixed the alternator and given it a tune-up. When she'd told him her plan for the day, he pulled out the car and checked the fluids and the tires. He understood her need to go somewhere, to go to the ocean alone.

The engine started right up.

"Stay overnight if you get tired," Mom said, wringing a dish towel with her hands. "Don't forget your hat and sunscreen."

Of course Mom didn't want Ellie to go, and Ellie wished she didn't have to add to her mother's worry and anxiety. Mom had experienced enough of that in the past six months. But Ellie wanted this as she hadn't wanted anything in years. Maybe not since she was a little girl wis.h.i.+ng for that EasyBake Oven so she could cook delightful treats for her family. The desire to sit by the sea and fill her lungs with salt air was nearly overpowering.

Ellie put the car into first gear, and it moved forward down the driveway. The steering wheel felt loose and the brake too touchy. She was happy to get down the street and beyond the concern of her parents. By the time she crested the rise out of Redding to the view of the blue waters of Whiskeytown Lake, it was as if the car knew where to go. And with every mile, Ellie felt stronger, freer, and more excited about her first little trip alone. Even though her left side was exposed to the outside world, to cars pa.s.sing her and the wind from the cracked window moving her hair off her burns, she didn't care about any of it.

The two-and-a-half-hour drive from Redding to the coast was a winding cruise over the mountains and down to the sea. The blue sky met with a blanket of fog as she went through the final range to the sand dunes outside of Arcata.

Ellie missed Megan, but her sister was checking out a college with one of her friends in southern Oregon anyway. Will was in Brazil, and though she missed him and he'd written how he wished she could've come, Ellie was glad they'd remained in "friends only" territory. Ryan might have been fun to bring on this mini road trip, but this drive was something she needed to do alone.

She turned north and wished she could just drive and drive, up the rocky northern coastline of California to Oregon and Was.h.i.+ngton. For now, she would settle for the little coastal hamlet of Harper's Bay.

The directions her dad had given her were easy enough. She pulled into the sandy parking lot beside a number of other vehicles. It wasn't even noon yet. She had the whole day to herself.

For a moment, an awkward feeling came over her that nearly kept her inside. She'd never done something like this alone. It would be intimidating even without her face the way it was.

I can go to the beach by myself.

Pus.h.i.+ng her door open, she hopped out quickly before she thought more about it. Mom had packed a small ice chest. Ellie grabbed her beach bag and dropped an ice-cold water inside. Throwing a thin wrap around her shoulders and plopping the wide-brimmed hat over her head, she guessed she appeared older, but she had to protect her scars from the sun. Next she tossed off her shoes and slipped on flip-flops, then locked her car and headed for the sandy rise between the beach and the parking lot. A breeze blew lightly against her face, and the sand was thick and deep as she walked.

At the top of the rise, she paused, taking in the view. A gray-blue wave came rolling up and then slid against the sand. The fog had cleared, and the sky was a vivid blue. There was a straight line on the horizon where sea and sky met. Giant black rocks rose from the sand along the beach, and Ellie remembered that many had shallow caves and tunnels to explore when the tide was low.

She walked close to the water, and waves came rising up to circle her feet and ankles, then made a gentle coaxing tug back toward the sea.

After a while, her left leg started throbbing from the walk. She climbed up a porous black rock to a ledge that stretched over the water about halfway up. The climb was a bit precarious, but she made it and sat down with a feeling of accomplishment.

While snacking on a pack of pistachios, Ellie watched two teenage girls run down to the water. They wore bikini tops and shorts and laughed at how cold the water was on their legs. Their boyfriends-Ellie presumed them to be boyfriends-quickly joined them, one with a wet suit and a surfboard.

Their skin was tanned, and they ran and splashed with utter freedom. One girl did a spontaneous dive into a wave and came up laughing, her hair wet from the sea. And Ellie knew these girls could have been her a year ago. That could be her kicking up wet sand behind her feet as she ran toward the waves. That was her, comfortable in a bikini and in skin she didn't even think to be grateful for, not a care in the world.

And what did she look like now? To them, unless they came close, Ellie could be an old woman. A woman with a wide-brimmed hat and long sleeves, dark Jackie O gla.s.ses, skin wrinkled on one side of her face. An old woman sitting by the sea, watching as if decades had pa.s.sed since she'd been one of those girls.

All the pain and suffering of the world attached itself to her like a thousand leeches that sucked the blood and life from her veins. What could she do with all the pain?

She knew suffering now. She knew pain. They were closer companions than all her friends had been for her entire life.

Ellie thought again of the note Ryan had put in the bottom of the bracelet box. She'd read it over and over.

You know what I figured out through all this, Els? Everybody is disfigured in some way or another. Some people are worse than others. In some people, we see it immediately in their faces or bodies. But everyone has broken places. Just like everyone has beautiful places. You'll use your scars and your beauty for the purpose G.o.d made you for. I look forward to seeing that.

She would never look the way she used to. But in a year, maybe two, and the years after, her scars would be less and less evident. Guys might check her out on the street, instead of children crying out in horror. But Ryan was right. Everyone was disfigured in one way or another.

With every wave, the footprints of the couples on the beach disappeared. Ellie's footprints had already been smoothed from the sand. Long ago, her family had come here on vacation. They had run along this beach, and the water picked up the memory of them and took it out to sea.

Ellie had an idea. She picked up her stuff and made the trek back toward the parking lot. After rummaging through her car, she nearly gave up. Then she spotted a small store at the dock. She walked, with her jeans still rolled up, across the parking lot, pa.s.sing a store window with seash.e.l.ls and wind chimes visible from the window. The scent of sea and fish grew stronger, and boats creaked on their mooring lines in the small harbor.

The clerk watched her with that look of interest and sympathy that she often saw on faces when people saw her scars. But it didn't bother her much now, and she brushed it away and acted as if she didn't notice.

The scent of fresh-baked sourdough bread drew her inside a small diner, where she ate a bread bowl filled with hot clam chowder. She drank cold Perrier and dropped little oyster crackers into the soup. So this is what it's like to be independent, strong, and out in the world, she thought, smiling to herself.

Back at her car, Ellie found a piece of paper and pen. She tried several ideas as she watched a kite whipping in the air above the beach.

Ellie wouldn't become like her grandfather, though she could. The bitterness would destroy her if she let it. She had blamed G.o.d, though now she felt that she knew Him more. Growing slowly within her was a deep longing and wonder toward the mystery of G.o.d.

There was much she could write on the paper. Something about the accident, about Stasia, about the people she'd loved and lost and those she had recently gained. But in the end, Ellie wrote one word, then rolled up the paper and slid it into the empty Perrier bottle. She screwed on the lid and headed back to the water.

She could be so many things, so many people. So much life stretched ahead of her, with countless possibilities. With a sea before her and a million options to choose from, Ellie gently tossed the bottle out into the water.

Her grandfather had said she'd never amount to anything. He was wrong. All her work had been to be someone of value and importance, and that had been wrong as well. Now she was scarred and changed. She was herself, and that was worth everything.

Chapter 22.

THE OUTSIDER.

College Edition

October 17

As I'm now living with relatives just across the bridge from San Francisco, I felt that qualified the continued t.i.tle for my blog of "The Outsider." So this will be the college edition, as I will be taking the BART into the city where I'm attending community college. If you're looking for movie, music, and restaurant reviews, this is the place to check out. It's also musings about purpose, faith, and G.o.d. Yes, I'm growing up, and you have to read about it if you want to enjoy those other things. I won't lose my sarcastic tone, don't worry. G.o.d made me that way. I still think people are stupid.

Megan sat at the outdoor cafe with her hand wrapped around a large cappuccino. A cable car rang its bell and stopped on the rails in the center of the street. People hopped on and off-businesspeople and tourists alike-then the red car made a dip down one of San Francisco's infamously hilly streets.

"I better get going," Jasmine said, picking up her large bag. "See you in cla.s.s tomorrow."

"Okay," Megan said to her lone friend in the city. They'd met in cla.s.s and had quickly become friends-a rare thing for Megan. "And don't forget to pick up the tickets for Friday."

Jasmine smiled her usual wide grin that looked stunning against her deep bronze skin. "You got it."

Megan remained at the table, laptop open in front of her, realizing this was the first time she'd sat at a cafe alone. Her transition from Redding to city life hadn't been easy. Aunt Betty was driving her crazy, but she provided a free room with an outdoor entrance. Especially in the first month, Megan missed home. She missed her parents, even. But mostly she missed her sister. It annoyed her that homesickness had threatened to send her back, but after a couple of months in college, she was finally settling in and feeling more comfortable.

And besides, Ellie wasn't home either.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked.

"Are you taking applications?" Megan asked.

The woman laughed. "Not at the moment. What kind of job are you looking for?"

"Any job that pays," Megan said.

The woman picked up some menus from another table. "What experience do you have?"

Megan figured she'd be honest. "I could bring in my meager resume."

"Have you done any writing?"

Megan smiled. "A little. A blog, like the rest of the world."

"Bring in some samples. I own this place and a little online news site-local reviews and news. The guy who worked with me on it moved to New York. You'd be like a local critic."

Megan couldn't believe her casual job query could open up such an opportunity. "I'll bring you some samples later today."

"Great," the woman said. "I kind of have a feeling about you, though. Get online and check out the site too."

Megan decided to do it then and there as the woman went to get her another cappuccino. Reading through a few articles and reviews, Megan knew her style would fit perfectly. She'd never have guessed her tone and att.i.tude might become a commodity.

Then she noticed the date on the computer. It had been one year today.

A year ago, their lives were completely different. Ellie was getting ready for a date with Ryan, and Megan couldn't stand her sister.

She closed her laptop, sliding it back into her satchel before heading for the bus.

A paid critic-who could have guessed it? It was perfect for her.

The traffic pressed around from all sides, and it appeared that no one in the entire country of Peru observed any laws of the road. At an intersection, they waited at a red light with numerous vehicles-carts, motorcycles, scooters, and bicyclists on rickety bikes-surrounding the van up to its windows and doors.

Ellie sat in the front pa.s.senger seat, pushed against the gla.s.s with a little girl stretched out asleep between her and the driver, Raymond. The girl's curly black hair covered Ellie's lap.

They were all tired, and most everyone in the van was asleep-her four team members and the ten children who were moving to their new home.

Outside the window, Ellie saw the pa.s.sing vehicles go through the intersection: a young Peruvian man listening to an iPod, with several pigs in the back of his truck; an old woman hunched close to the steering wheel in a rusty car; some rich-looking guys in a new Mercedes; a small child of about eight on a large bicycle, standing off the seat and pumping hard on the pedals as he tried to keep up with the Mercedes.

Each of the pa.s.sing individuals was lost within his or her own world. They had destinations in mind, friends and families, hopes and dreams.

The sound of a Spanish guitarist suddenly erupted from her purse, making Raymond glance her way.

"You keep your eyes on the road," Ellie teased as he headed into the chaos of the intersection. She dug around in her purse, careful not to wake the little girl.

She'd set all her ringtones to Spanish music several months ago, before she left for Peru. This international text was from Ryan. He'd insisted on paying for the added service to their phones while she was gone.

Ryan: How's Super Els?

She smiled at his new name for her and texted back: It was a hard but good day.

Ryan: Did you get the kids?

Ellie glanced back to the rows of children and noticed one little boy staring out the window. Everyone else was asleep.

Ellie: We did.

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Beautiful: Truth's Found When Beauty's Lost Part 29 summary

You're reading Beautiful: Truth's Found When Beauty's Lost. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Cindy Martinusen-Coloma. Already has 534 views.

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