A Small Town Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

not... all alone .”
     
    The word hung between them, and Annie felt the weight of it. She looked at the dustcover. It was plain, simple, just the words, all capital block letters in a line below a small abstract graphic art piece. ON…THE…ROAD . Then the strange name, Jack Kerouac, at the top. She looked up at Parker, and he smiled, hopeful.
     
    “How do you pronounce his name?”
     
    Parker told her, explaining, “It’s French-Canadian.”
     
    She played it over in her head. It sounded foreign, exotic. “Ok,” she said after a moment, “I’ll give it a read.”
     
    “ Yes! ” Parker shouted, throwing his arms in the air. He got up and ran around the table, ignoring those who stared, got on his knees, and hugged Annie where she sat. “You’re going to just... I cannot wait to hear what you think!” Then he leapt to his feet, kissed the top of her head and ran out of the library.
     
    Annie laughed at his joy and his energy. She turned the book over.
     
    “ The voice of a new generation ,” she read and shrugged. “How bad could it be?”
     
    She glanced at the clock, saw it was time to head to class, so she slipped the book into her backpack. She was still thinking about Parker as she walked to class, his strange behavior, and how oddly he spoke about Connie. She cautioned herself not to get too worked up, not to read anything into it. She had been wrong about them before. She was determined not to make that mistake again.
     
    As she turned the last corner toward her class, she saw Parker leaning against a locker, looking down at the floor. He suddenly looked up, caught her eye, and smiled, warm, full, and somehow special. Annie’s heart skipped a beat. He held up his copy of the book, all bent and dog-eared. He pointed to it, smiled again, and nodded. Then he mouthed some words. Annie swore they were, I love you . She frowned and moved close enough so he could hear her.
     
    “ What did you just say?” She was almost afraid to ask.
     
    “I said, you’ll love it.” She stood for a moment, then moved on.
     
    In her classroom, she took her seat, waiting for the class to begin. “ Is that what he said?” she asked herself. She pulled the book from her backpack and stared at the cover.
     
    “Well, Ms. Stewart,” said Mr. Gleason, her English teacher, as he walked by her desk. “I never figured you for someone who would like the beats.”
     
    She flinched. “Excuse me?”
     
    “The beat writers,” he said. “We’ll be getting to them toward the end of the year. I couldn’t possibly release your young minds into the world without at least introducing you to the voices of the beat generation.”
     
    “Is it good?”
     
    “Good?” He shrugged and kept moving. “I think so. But it’s not about good or bad,” he continued, now having a personal conversation with her in front of the rest of the class. “It’s about how it hits you, how it makes you think and feel. Dangerous stuff, Ms. Stewart, so be careful. It may change your mind about your entire life.” He gave her a wicked little smile. She laughed.
     
    He turned his attention to the rest of the class. “But for now, we’ll stay in the safe, comfortable world of Jane Austin. Pride and Prejudice , page—where did we leave off?”
     
    The rest of the class opened their copies of Austin. Annie looked at On the Road once more, then slid it into her backpack. She was happy to get back to Jane Austin because she loved her work. But for the rest of the day, Mr. Gleason’s words echoed in her head.
     
    Dangerous stuff, Ms. Stewart, so be careful.

 
4
     
    Annie slipped into bed, clicked on the reading lamp, and then opened the—according to her English teacher— dangerous book Parker was so eager for her to read. She loved to read, and had a small but impressive collection of her own. Most were required reading for English classes, but her aunts had given her a few and others she had bought for herself, including the