My theme this year is blogging about my author brand. Fridays are a story told in parts. This story fluctuates between modern times and centuries ago.
LUMBER OF THE KUWEAKUNKS - part 3
Lights and camera flashes blinded Lilia as she exited the ambulance.
"Ms. Turner, does your missing child have to do with the election?"
"Is it true your son is responsible for the disappearance of the Flizwatter girl?"
"Why was your son taken out of his previous school?"
Lilia hugged the gray, scratchy blanket against her chest. She wanted her child, not newshounds. The press truly was not on her side today.
"That is a good question," Clorinda shuffled over, wedging herself between Lilia and the reporters. "The policy about education access needs to be updated. I will bring it to a vote again, when I’m reelected. The Tuck Academy was forced to take in a child that the public school no longer accepted."
Lilia shook her head as she muttered about misinterpreted facts.
"My husband and I pay good money for our sweet May to attend this school. We pay to maintain the fence around it, the cameras at the doors, the guard at the station— and what good is it? Security on the outside was not enough to fight the threat permitted inside!"
"You cannot be serious." Lilia threw the blanket down. "My son is not a threat. He’s missing, the same as your daughter."
"May belongs in this school. Nothing like this ever happened before his kind were admitted. Tuck Academy had standards."
Lilia rubbed her temples. The reporters' bright lights were giving her a migraine. "His kind? Which group are you insulting today, Councilwoman?"
A sneer grew across the heavy, round face of Clorinda Flizwatter. "It is not right that other people have to pay your way."
"That’s not how it works."
"A grown woman still bagging groceries part-time. You dare think your child is entitled to the same schooling as mine? That you have the right to run for my council seat?"
"I own the entire chain. Haven’t been a cashier in years, though it is a decent job and my stores pay an honest wage. And yes, every child is entitled to an equal education opportunity. I do have the right, yes, to run in the election."
"Maybe your son ran back to the reservation and took my daughter as a hostage to use along the way."
Lilia threw up her hands. "For the last time, we did not live on a reservation! We were living in Malibu until my husband, Ricky’s father, passed away. I came back here to be with my mother. The grant money, as you call it, is payment from an albinism study that Ricky takes part in." Lilia rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Our children are missing. I don’t care if it is election day, this is no time to campaign. Shove your smear tactics under your over-privileged fence."
Set your own price!