The Year of My Miraculous Reappearance Read Online Free PDF Page A

talk to him somehow, like by cell phone. And I said the fence posts were racing by and he said no, they were standing still. Wouldn't that be a stupid thing to argue about? But we do that all the time, argue with each other about what things are or what we think we see, and maybe that's the problem all along. Like we're not standing in the same place, or at least we're not moving at the same speed, so maybe it's all about perspective. I'm probably not explaining it right at all. I just decided that life was like a farmer standing in a field and a kid racing down the road on a Kawasaki, arguing about whether the fence posts are rushing by or standing still. Each thinking the other is crazy or blind or both, neither willing to give up until the other sees the light.
    We got off by the reservoir, which was good, because my butt hurt. I wouldn't have said so. By that time I was thinking this Zack was a pretty cool guy, but then he took off his helmet and it was back to geek city. What do you expect of a guy who just got kicked out of the Air Force? I don't know what he did wrong, but it sure wasn't refusing to cut his hair. It was, like, a quarter-inch long, with little ridges where the helmet had squashed it down, and his face was sort of shiny. If he hadn'tbeen six foot four, he wouldn't have looked much older than me.
    Actually, I think he was only about ten years older than me, which made him about the same age as Kiki. That was the age of the three kids in our family: twenty-three, thirteen, and three. Mom used to say, “Yeah, well, once every ten years whether I need one or not.” Everybody thought that was funny. Except me.
    Zack lit a cigarette.
    I said, “Hey, don't I get one?” Richie used to let me have one of his cigarettes now and then. Back when I thought we were friends. I didn't expect Zack to be that cool, but it was worth a try.
    “Aren't you too young?”
    “Fine. Then I'll just get one later, from somebody else.”
    “Wouldn't your momma mind?”
    “Only if you told her.”
    He looked at me kind of crosswise for a minute, but then he gave me one, like I was beginning to figure he would, because he wanted me to like him. He even lit it for me. I took a couple of drags and inhaled the first one to impress him. I knew better than to do that all the way down.
    “So, how come you're such a tomboy?” he asked.
    I'd gotten the question a lot, but I kept that to myself. “I don't know what you mean,” I said.
    “How come you always wear those baggy black sweatshirts and those jeans all ripped out in the knee?”
    I shrugged and started skimming stones on the reservoir.
    I never answered. He probably only asked because my mom was always squawking about it. I was wishing he'd get to the speech. He got to it soon enough.
    “I know how you feel, Cynnie, but it might be the best thing for Bill—for everybody.”
    Yeah, sure, I thought. Just leave me out of your everybody. And while you're at it, leave Bill out of it, too. “I guess I'm taking my life in my hands, saying that to you.” I just skipped stones. I didn't even tell him how much. I figured he knew. “I know it's a little hard for you to accept me,” he said. “Me being so much younger than your mom and all.” I shrugged and skipped another one. She'd done worse, I was thinking. I was dizzy from the cigarette but it wouldn't do to let on. “I know you don't like me,” he said. I shrugged and let fire another stone. Good one. Five skips and then that nice little plunk. “But I love your mother very much.”
    I took a drag on the cigarette and looked him dead on. I didn't doubt him for a minute. “She won't let you.” I'd been watching my mom real carefully, and I'd finally figured this out. She said she wanted love, but she made sure she never got any.
    “Meaning what?”
    “Mom doesn't want a man to be happy with. Because Mom doesn't want to be happy.”
    He screwed up his face and said, “That doesn't sound like something for a