Copyright 1991 Aya Katz
FROM THE DIARY OF VERITY LACKLAND ...
When they told me I could make one phone call, I asked if a call to Moscow was okay. They laughed. "What are you, some kind of communist? Think the Kremlin's gonna bail you out?"
"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked. It was a "No."
They did finally let me call down to Austin, to the dorm, but no one was there because school's out for a week. They tried to be helpful. "Isn't there anyone you could call?"
My answer surprised me. There's no one. No one at all.
(In case you're wondering, I've just been released from jail. And no, I don't really feel like going into it right now. I'd much rather dwell on the fact that there was nobody to bail me out, and that I'm all alone.)
My mother always told me it was important to make friends. "They can be very useful in times of need," she liked to say.
"But Mom, isn't that a mercenary attitude? Shouldn't you make friends only with people that you really like?"
Dad, who happened to listen in a lot, would jump in then and say that there was nothing wrong with being mercenary. And he would wink at me.
But Mom wouldn't notice. "You shouldn't make friends with people because you like them. You should like them because they're your friends. If you learn that lesson, you'll go far."