The real schwa story

The real schwa story

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  • Come on Mr. Crawley.
  • “Oh, wow,” I said. “You’ve got to be kidding!” 
  • “Kidding about what? What is it?” But he made no attempt to uncover his eyes.
  • “You terrible, terrible girl." Mr. Crawley said.
  • “You can take off your blindfold now, Grandpa.” Lexie said “No, I won’t!” he said, like a child. “You can’t make me.” He clapped his hands tightly over his eyes, keeping the blind­fold firmly in place.
  • That did it. Crawley took his hands from his eyes, slipped off the blindfold, and took in the view. “Oh ...!” was all he could say.His face was pale, his lips were pursed. 
  • “You will never be forgiven for this,” he said. “Neither of you. And you will pay.”
  • “The Chrysler Building. Sharp. Icy. The highest point of a Christmas tree star. Okay, the heart of midtown coming up. Rockefeller Center, smooth old granite, in the middle of all these steel-and-glass skyscrapers. Trump Tower. It’s like a jagged crystal that got shoved out of the ground.”
  • They rode the rest of the way in silence. 
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