Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
A magazine was off to the side, and my eyes lingered on the cover headline, “Sun’s Fury.” The subhead read: “Scientists Warn Solar Flare Could Hit Earth in Our Lifetime.”
I read it once, then twice, finally sighing, and pushing it aside.
If only.
With one massive explosion, I’d be on common ground with every other man and woman out there.
Which was to say, we’d all be fucked.
Fortunately or unfortunately—I couldn’t quite decide—that wasn’t going to happen.
Alfonso stood and dropped his plate in the sink with a clatter. “Oh, by the way,” he said, plucking a piece of mail off the top of the pile on the counter. “This came for you.”
I took it, and he gave me a pat on the shoulder as he moved past, pausing. I waited for the words of encouragement he might give me before he left. “Wash those up, would you?”
I eyed the sink full of dirty dishes. “Thanks for the words of wisdom,” I muttered sarcastically.
His soft chuckle drifted behind him. “You’ll see the wisdom in not letting small messes accumulate. Take it from someone who’s been where you are.”
Sure. Okay.
The front door opened, and then closed, and a minute later I heard the growl of his car’s engine as it pulled away from the curb, off to his job as head custodian at a local high school. Maybe he had a little more of his father’s determination than my mom had believed, because he’d started out as a janitor there right before I’d gone to prison and was now running the custodial team. Unfortunately for me, they were currently on a hiring freeze. In any case, maybe my uncle would never live in Bel Air, but his outlook was a whole lot better than mine.
He’d been where I was, even if his time spent in jail had been for a series of shorter stints. He’d struggled with drugs for much of his youth and had finally gotten clean right before I came to live with him. He’d put up with me when he didn’t have to, and while he might not have been equipped to deal with an angry, grieving, troubled teenager when he was only just getting his own life together, he’d done what he could. He’d put a roof over my head and food on the table, and I’d “repaid” his generosity by being a total fuckup.
And here I was living the consequences. I tapped the table with the envelope in my hand, my heart giving a small jolt when I caught sight of the return label. I tore open the flap and pulled out the Christmas card from the Swansons. The shiny front featured a colorful rendition of Santa, and on the inside, it had a generic printed greeting under which Mrs. Swanson had written: Merry Christmas, Tuck. Thinking of you this holiday season and wishing you well. Let us know if you’re ever in the area. We’d love to see you. Love, Jena and Phil.
I placed the card down on the table. They’d sent me a Christmas card every year since I’d moved away, even when I’d been in prison. They must have heard that I’d been released. Shame wound through me. Jena had been my mom’s best friend. It must hurt her to know how devastated my mom would have been had she lived—
The chair legs scraped across the tile as I stood and then headed for the living room. But I paused in the doorway, the kernel of an idea making me turn, my gaze landing on Santa’s jolly grin. I took the few steps back to the table and picked up the card and the envelope, staring at that return address, the one I’d once known as well as my own.
five
Tuck
I stood on the other side of the road, staring at the place that had been a second home to me.
It was barely recognizable.
Swanson Groves still featured the same gate, with a white house in the distance, but instead of the seemingly never-ending rows of orange trees that had once stretched from their home to ours, there was now only a handful of trees. The rest had been mowed down to make room for square, nondistinct tract houses and what looked like a mall in the distance. A hole inside me gaped wide, an old wound made up of anger, bitterness, resentment…hate. I’d spent so many years convincing myself I’d moved on from those feelings, but I obviously hadn’t, because in one unexpected moment, they poured forth.
All these years, I’d held this place in my heart as a slice of heaven on earth. Out of my reach, yes, but still there. Still proof that a piece of perfect, no matter how small, no matter how removed, existed. But now, I felt that hope crumble. I knew there had been changes, but I hadn’t imagined this level of…carnage.