The glass castle: a memoir

(Wang) #1

It couldn't be that hard, I thought. Other moms did it. I tried quizzing
her. Was she spending the money on herself? Was she giving it to Dad?
Was Dad stealing it? Or did we go through it quickly? I couldn't get an
answer. "Give us the money," I said. "We'll work out a budget and stick
to it."


"Easy for you to say," Mom replied.


Lori and I did work out a budget, and we included a generous allowance
for Mom to cover luxuries such as extra-large Hershey bars and cut
crystal vases. If we kept to our budget, we believed, we could afford new
clothes and shoes and coats, and buy a ton of coal at the cheaper off-
season price. Eventually, we could install insulation, run a water pipe
into the house, and maybe even add a water heater. But Mom never
turned the money over to us. So even though she had a steady job, we
were living pretty much like we had before.


I'D STARTED SEVENTH grade that fall, which meant attending Welch
High School. It was a big school, near the top of a hill looking down on
the town, with a steep road leading up. Kids were bused in from way up
in the hollows and from coal camps such as Davy and Hemphill that
were too small to have their own high school. Some of the kids looked as
poor as me, with home-cut hair and holes in the toes of their shoes. I
found it a lot easier to fit in than at Welch Elementary.


Dinitia Hewitt was there, too. That summer morning I'd spent swimming
with Dinitia at the public pool was the happiest time I'd had in Welch,
but she never invited me back, and even though it was a public pool, I
didn't feel I could go to the free swim unless I had an invitation from
her. I saw her again only when school started, and neither of us ever
mentioned that day at the pool. I guess we both knew that, given the way
people in Welch thought about mixing, it would be too weird for us to

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