Possessing Jessie by Nancy Springer Read Free Book Online

whether they had old phone books for the local area. They did. Looking in the phone book from three years ago, Alisha found that Jessie’s father’s name was actually “W. Richard Ressler.”
    Richard, not Ronald. Clueless One at the insurance place had gotten it wrong. Why hadn’t the damn woman at the post office corrected her?
    It doesn’t matter. That woman is a total waste of organs that could be donated. Don’t think about her .
    W. Richard Ressler. Alisha wondered what the W stood for. It was probably something Mr. Ressler didn’t like. Walter? Wolfgang? Wilberforce?
    I have to start all over .
    And she’d wasted so much time. A smart person who had a clue, like a private detective or a cop on TV, would probably be already talking with Jessie’s father by now, but Alisha hadn’t even gotten to first base. Who the heck did she think she was, a stupid girl trying to be a hero.…
    Stop it. Don’t dis yourself. Just do it .
    She’d never stayed at the library so late before. Mom was home by now. Alisha phoned to tell her where she was and said she was working on a school project.
    By now Alisha was so hungry it hurt. Also, she had a headache. The computers were crowded, and she had to wait her turn. Once back on, she went to Whitepages.com with the correct name. But still no luck. She tried to find W. Richard Ressler among a listing of State Farm Insurance agents, then insurance agents in general. But she didn’t find him there, either, and she didn’t even know whether he still worked in insurance. She didn’t know much about him at all except gossip about the Ressler divorce. Some people said it was because Mrs. Ressler was kind of selfish and shallow. Other people said it was because Mr. Ressler was inclined to drink and screw around. Probably both things were true. Which came first, the shallow wife or the straying husband?
    Well, wherever he was, he was probably still chasing women.
    Huh.
    Alisha went back to the home page and clicked a heading called “Singles.”
    It was like stepping into the bar district of a strange, sleazy city. Voices calling “Want Me, Want ME!” Advertising loud and louder. Why did these people have to advertise? Did older mean lonely ? The neediness reaching out of the computer screen made Alisha uncomfortable. It took her a while to get things sorted out in her mind. Most of the “Find Your Soul Mate” sites wanted money; she couldn’t go on them. Others were so nearly pornographic they warned her away. Still others consisted of classified ads, such as “DWM seeks WF into Rollerblading, boogie-boarding, other athletic pursuits” which did not help her–there was no way of telling whether any of the DWMs were Jessie’s father. There was too much to sort through, and it was taking her too long. Sites for certain regions did not help, as Alisha did not know where, geographically, Jessie’s father was. Sites that gave only first names but showed photos–
    It was a long shot, but Alisha did know what Mr. Ressler looked like.
    She was scrolling through posed picture after posed picture– Look, I’m cool, See my style, See my shoulders, See my boobs, See my smile– and, for the first time in her life, feeling grateful she was still in high school and didn’t have to go through this kind of virtual humiliation, when she heard an adult voice speak to her. “Alisha.”
    One of the librarians.
    â€œAlisha, it’s time for you to get off the computer. Other people are waiting.”
    Of course she had used up her half hour and then some, and of course Alisha didn’t talk back because there was nothing to say, but she wanted to scream. Or cry. The next photo could have been Jessie’s father.
    Yeah, right. Odds about a million to one .
    Alisha clicked the computer back to the home page, stood up on legs stiff from sitting, left the library, and trudged