Out of the Easy

by Ruta Sepetys

He nodded. “Decisions, they shape our destiny.” Without opening the book, he began to recite from David Copperfield. “‘Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else . . .’” I nodded and finished it with him. “‘These pages must show.’”

I leapt eagerly into books. The characters’ lives were so much more interesting than the lonely heartbeat of my own.

But the stain was still there. Some things just won’t go away, no matter how hard you scrub.

One day when I was fourteen, I told Charlie that I hated Mother. “Don’t hate her, Jo,” he told me. “Feel sorry for her. She’s not near as smart as you. She wasn’t born with your compass, so she wanders around, bumping into all sorts of walls. That’s sad.”

“A thing of beauty is a joy forever . . . it will never pass into nothingness.”

“They got everything that money can buy, their bank accounts are fat, but they ain’t happy. They ain’t ever gone be happy. You know why? They soul broke. And money can’t fix that, no

The wind blew, and the tarty smell of the yellow Mississippi lapped against my face, lifting the ends of my hair.

Character. I knew I was one, but they wanted me to have one.

Sometimes we set off down a road thinkin’ we’re goin’ one place and we end up another. But that’s okay. The important thing is to start.

“You hungry?” I was starving. “Are you going to the cathedral to get your ashes?” I asked. Jesse laughed. “I’m from Alabama, remember? Baptist. Salvation by grace. Let’s go find a muffuletta.”

We all laced together—a brothel madam, an English professor, a mute cook, a quadroon cabbie, and me, the girl carrying a bucket of lies and throwing them like confetti.

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.

The kid’s slick like me, not stupid like you.

I love you the more in that I believe you have liked me for my own sake and for nothing else. The rain plunked atop my black umbrella.

“Call this place ‘The Big Easy,’ shoot, ain’t nothin’ easy about it.”

“There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.”