Flyers (9781481414449) Read Online Free PDF Page A

something and came running out on the porch fiddling with the latch on his briefcase. He set the briefcase on one of the porch chairs and pulled something out of it. “From the newsroom,” he said, waving it excitedly in the air. “Art just got it in today.” He handed me a new Superman comic for Ethan. “And I didn’t forget you, Gabriel.” He handed me a blue-and-white trade paperback called Selections from Ralph Waldo Emerson. I’d mentioned just the other day that we’d read about the American Transcendentalists in English class and how I’d found the whole thing kind of interesting.
    â€œA client picked that up for me in Glens Falls,” Pop said, his eyes twinkling. “Now you’ll both have something to read around your campfire. And watch out for the bears.” For as long as I can remember Pop had joked about bears living in the woods even though no one I knew had ever heard of one being around there. It was just part of our family schtick.
    â€œI don’t think any bear in his right mind would try to take on Jeremy and Rosasharn,” I told him.
    â€œRaaahaa!” Pop laughed. “You may be right on that account, Gabriel! Give my best to the boys now, will you?”
    â€œDone, Pop.” I held up the Emerson book. “And thanks.”
    â€œYou’re most welcome,” Pop said. “Always welcome. Enjoy.” He was still waving when I got to the road.

Three
    I woke up with dew on my head and remembered all of a sudden that I really hate to camp. It wasn’t just my damp head, or the general feeling of dampness that extended down into my sleeping bag. Or the fact that I could almost see my breath. Or the rocky ground I could feel bruising my shoulder blades. But put all this together, and then add the fact that we all had real beds waiting for us at home, and temperature-controlled rooms, and bathrooms with hot showers, and you have to wonder what we were all doing sleeping out on the range.
    I made a mental note of all this, hoping it might save me from ever waking up in that condition again, and then sat up and looked around. Bo was already meditating, something he’d been doing twice a day every day since he was a little kid. Bo’s whole family meditated, even his little sister, who was only nine. She did some kind of a kid’s version, where you meditate while you’re on the go—brushing your teeth, making your bed, that kind of thing. I remember Bo doing it when we were her age.
    I pulled the sleeping bag tighter around my neck and watched him for a minute. He sat there in full lotus, eyes closed and wearing a blank peaceful look. He wasn’t completely still like they always show people meditating in movies or on TV. Sometimes his head would roll around in a circle working kinks out of his neck, and sometimes his whole body would start to rock as if he were in a car going over bumps. I’m surethe entire deal would have looked pretty strange if you hadn’t grown up around it, but I had. Besides, when it came to Bo’s family, the meditation part of the program was only the beginning if you want to talk about unusual. But we’ll get to that later.
    Just then Bo started to stretch a little, which usually meant he was about done, and within a few minutes he opened his eyes and got to his feet. He stood there a second looking back through a clearing where you could see the beginning of an orange glow on the eastern horizon. I climbed out of my sleeping bag, wrapped it around my shoulders, and trudged up beside him to watch as the glow expanded.
    â€œWell, guys,” Bo said finally, “is this great or what?”
    It wasn’t till then that I looked down and saw that Ethan was standing beside me, all wrapped up in his sleeping bag the same way I was.
    â€œI still hate camping,” I told them, but had to admit to myself this was pretty decent. The top third of the sun was showing now,