Read Online 30 Pieces of a Novel by Stephen Dixon - Free Book Online

I’ve done—a single one?” and she looks up and sees his expression and says, “Oh, that,” and points to him and says, “You got it, anything you want within reason. I’m as curious as you to see how it goes, besides, of course, which would be nothing new for me, wanting to. But first let me wash the dishes, now that I can reach inside the basin, and clean the house and also see what the kids’ room looks like, as I’ve never been upstairs in the four summers we’ve rented this place,” and does all that and other things and then says, “Okay, I’m ready, and I worked so hard I had to take another shower,” and they get on their bed, he doesn’t have to pry her knees apart to get her legs open, she moves around agilely, jumps over him, jumps back, gets on top, and then turns them over so she’s below, later says, “Did I miss moving around like that and all the exuberance that goes along with it? You betcha. And to think I can do it like that, if all goes well or stays put, again and again and again,” and they fall asleep.
    â€œThe kids,” he says, waking up, and she says, “Time to get them? Won’t they be surprised, or who knows. I’ll go with you,” and he says, “Bus is supposed to arrive at four but usually gets there around three-forty-five and I don’t want them waiting in the sun, so I’ll have to ask you to hurry,” and they dress quickly, get in the van, no wheelchair or walker or motor cart in back—“I think it’s safe to, I don’t feel any imminent relapse”—they drive to town, bus is pulling in when they get there, she runs to the bus as the girls are getting off, and they say, “Mommy … hi,” and she hugs them and says, “Both of you have a good time today?” and Fanny says, “We went on a field trip to Fort Knox. The counselors tried to scare us but they couldn’t,” and she says, “Scare you how?” and Fanny says, “The fort has all these secret tunnels and passageways from olden days, and Chauncy—he’s the theater counselor—leaped out on us one time, but we were expecting it,” and she says, “Josie, you have fun too?” and Josephine says, “It was all right. Fanny didn’t like me being with her; she said she had her own friends to go around the fort with and I should get mine—Mommy, you’re walking, you’re standing, you ran to us! Fanny, Daddy!” and she says, “Ah, you noticed,” and Fanny says, “Yes, I did too. What happened, a new pill? Is it only for today and maybe tonight—another experiment—or in the morning?” and she says, “Nothing like that. Your daddy waved his hand over my head like a wand and said some magic or religious or miracle-making words. We didn’t think anything would happen. We both thought he was joking, or he did—I thought he was playing a mean trick on me, fooling around about an illness which all the doctors thought I’d never recover from…. I never wanted to tell you that. I always wanted to give you the hope I’d be normal again, but they all said I wouldn’t unless some new drug worked, when bingo! no drug. It hit, it worked, I started walking, first one step, two, and on and on, doing all the things I once used to; just walking beside your father rather than have him push me in the chair. Sitting in it or riding the cart alongside any of you I was so much shorter that I felt like your kid sister,” and Josephine says, “I never saw you walk before without help,” and he says, “You sure you want to discuss this in the hot sun?” and she says, “Sure we do, because it’s so unusual, my standing and talking to my girls anyplace, hot or not,” and he says, “I meant especially you, Sally, for you know how the heat can affect your disease,” and she says,