11May 2000
Our days had become more routine since we'd signed up for the classes. Evelyn and I got up, had breakfast. I went out to the garden to weed and water until she'd call my name out the window, letting me know it was time to go. She'd sit quietly in the passenger seat next to me, walk a beat faster than me through the doors, find us seats at the front of the room and then, finally, take just a moment to give me a nervous smile. I'd been in classes with her before, but I'd never seen her look so focused. Day after day she sat, white-fingered as she scribbled down notes, or eyes glued to a demonstration. She'd ask questions, have conversations with the instructor and with our classmates. At the end of every class, she'd let out a deep breath, run her hands through her curls, and giv
