标签:周末旅行者 相关文章
They divorced two years after they moved in and sold the house. Posh house. My family is posh. Theyre very weird about it, too. Brothers and sisters? Mark is twenty-two and finishing pre-law at Harvard. Alicia is seventeen and a senior in high school
I wake up and I dont know where I am. An unfamiliar ceiling. Distant traffic noises. Bookshelves. A blue armchair with my velvet dress slung across it and a mans tie draped over the dress. Then I remember. I turn my head and theres Henry. So simple,
Saturday, January 2, 1988, 4:03 a.m. /Sunday, June 16, 1968, 10:46 p.m. (Henry is 24, and 5) HENRY: Its 4:03 a.m. on a supremely cold January morning and Im just getting home. Ive been out dancing and Im only half drunk but utterly exhausted. As I fu
I made you some pretty weird meals over the years. Peanut butter and anchovy sandwiches. Pate and beets on Ritz crackers. I think partly I wanted to see if there was anything you wouldnt eat and partly I was trying to impress you with my culinary wiz
At last, my companion is suitably impressed. Howd you do that? Its not that hard. Ill teach you another time. Entree! I hold open the door and he walks in. I flip on the lights and the Reading Room springs into being; heavy wooden tables and chairs,
Clare spreads the towel on the ground and dumps out the contents of the bag: every imaginable kind of writing implement. Old ballpoint pens, little stubby pencils from the library, crayons, smelly Magic Markers, a fountain pen. She also has a bunch o
Santa is magic. Youre not Santa. Meaning Im not magic? Geez, Louise, youre a tough customer. Im not Louise, I know. Youre Clare. Clare Anne Abshire, born May 24, 1971. Your parents are Philip and Lucille Abshire, and you live with them and your grand
Thats a great idea. But what I really need isnt money, its clothing. Clare looks at me doubtfully. Does your dad have any clothes he doesnt need? Even a pair of pants would be great. I mean, I like this towel, dont get me wrong, its just that where I
He strolls on, braying, blissfully unaware, with his wallet in his left back pocket. He has a large gut but almost no backside, and his wallet is pretty much aching for me to take it. I amble along behind them. Henry has a clear view as I deftly inse
Hmm, my, you should take this to the security guards, hmm, theres quite a bit of cash in here, yes, the man wears thick glasses and peers at Henry through them as he speaks and Henry reaches around under the mans jacket and steals his wallet. Since H
Jesus, Henry. He shuts the door and I hear him walking back to his room. I throw my self a reproachful glare as I pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I walk down the hall to Dads bedroom. His door is shut. I knock. No answer. I wait. Dad? Silence.
I laugh and laugh. I have escaped again! Houdini, Prospero, behold me! for I am a magician, too. Nausea overcomes me, and I heave bile onto Kimys mums. Saturday, May 14, 1983 (Clare is 11 almost 12) CLARE: Its Mary Christina Heppworths birthday and a
Then it starts to move, slow. It goes in circles, and then stops on H. Then it speeds up. E, N, R, Y. Henry, says Mary Christina, whos Henry? Helen says, I dont know, but youre blushing, Clare. Who is Henry? I just shake my head, like its a mystery t
Everyone is weirded out. Im very weirded out. Husband? Husband? Thursday, April 12, 1984 (Henry is 36, Clare is 12) HENRY: Clare and I are playing chess in the fire circle in the woods. Its a beautiful spring day, and the woods are alive with birds c
(You can still be cool )when youre dead. In fact, its much easier, because you arent getting old and fat and losing your hair. Clare hums the beginning of When Im 64. She moves her rook forward five spaces. I can checkmate her now, and I point th
I guess. And what do you vote for? Clare is silent. Her pragmatism and her romantic feelings about Jesus and Mary are, at thirteen, almost equally balanced. A year ago she would have said God without hesitation. In ten years she will vote for determi
I move Queens Bishop to KB4. Its not fair that you know everything about me but you never tell me anything about you. True. Its not fair. I try to look regretful, and obliging. I mean, Ruth and Helen and Megan and Laura tell me everything and I tell
It makes me kind of wonder about fairy tales. I mean, if youre real, then why shouldnt fairy tales be real, too? Clare stands up, still pondering the board, and does a little dance, hopping around like her pants are on fire. I think the ground is get
Sunday, September 23, 1984 (Henry is 35, Clare is 13) HENRY: I am in the clearing, in the Meadow. Its very early in the morning, just before dawn. Its late summer, all the flowers and grasses are up to my chest. Its chilly. I am alone. Ive never seen
Pretty please? Okay, Ill try. She stands up, slowly. This is the year Clare got tall, quickly. In the past year she has grown five inches, and she has not yet become accustomed to her new body. Breasts and legs and hips, all newly minted. I try not t