Read Online Blind Sight by Meg Howrey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Meg Howrey
Tags: General Fiction
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Mark said.
“Yeah,” I said, sucking at my Slurpee. “Yeah.”
The attraction between two bodies is proportional to their masses. This is the law of gravity, but there is nothing in the law that tell us WHY that should be so.
I agree with Mark. Thinking about gravity, really thinking about it, can kind of freak you out.
Actually, Luke
still
mostly feels that the sky is a kind of protective dome. In many instances he has been able to replace intuition with acquired knowledge, but in this case he has failed. However, he is prepared to accept that what he feels is wrong, and what science has proved is correct.
Luke had spent the day watching. He watched his father watch his own reflection in the mirrors at the gym, watched the couple sitting next to them at lunch watch his father eat a frittata, watched his father watch himself, Luke, at the observatory. Luke had watched the sun. He located the signals being sent to him, around him, for him. Luke experienced happiness in meeting those signals successfully. He enjoyed his father’s enjoyment of the Slurpee, and his father’s enjoyment of Luke’s enjoyment of his own Slurpee.
He enjoyed seeing his father recognized, enjoyed feeling slightly famous himself, enjoyed feeling that he was the person whom Mark
wanted
to talk to.
Later that evening, as Luke was getting ready for bed, Mark came into Luke’s room holding a leather jacket.
“I just found this in my closet,” Mark says. “Here. Try it on.”
“It’ll be huge on me,” says Luke, but, “No, it’s small on me,” says Mark, and so Luke puts it on. It fits perfectly.
“It’s yours,” says Mark. “It looks way better on you, man.”
Luke has never owned anything made of real leather. His Nana does not have a problem with leather (God gave Adam and Eve coats of skins to wear, John the Baptist wore leather, etc.), but Sara prefers natural or micro fibers. Luke has only bought a few of his own clothes, and he has yet to consider where he personally stands on the ethics of leather.
“Good night.” Mark puts a hand on Luke’s leather-clad shoulder and jostles it slightly. “Thanks for today.” Mark leaves.
Luke stands in the bedroom that he now thinks of as “his” bedroom and inhales the scent of the jacket. He puts his hands inside the jacket pockets, discovers a coin in the right one. He holds the coin hard in his hand, turns it over and over, rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. Luke experiences a sudden rush of emotion: a tightening and throbbing in his throat, as if his throat were a cocoon for something alive, something with a hundred little legs. Luke thinks for a moment that he might cry, half laughs at himself, takes the jacket off, and hangs it carefully in his closet.
CHAPTER FIVE
O kay, so your mom and your sisters,” Mark said to me at the gym this morning. “I’m getting them. What about your Nana, though? What’s her deal? She’s religious or something?”
“They’re called the New Plymouth Brethren,” I explained. “It’s kind of a splinter cell from the regular Plymouth Brethren, who are really fundamentalist.”
“You go to church?”
“They call it Assembly. Yeah, I go. We all used to go. Well, not Sara. But us kids. For awhile. It’s kind of complicated.”
I told him I would try an essay about Nana today, while he was at work. Then I’m going to go for a bike ride in Griffith Park. He’s got a regular Schwinn twelve-speed in the garage, along with the most awesome dirt bike ever. I explored the garage yesterday. There are all kinds of things in there. The dirt bike is brand-new. He hasn’t even ridden it yet.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “That was part of some gift basket.”
“Someone sent you the Z250 in a gift basket? That’s like a six-thousand-dollar bike.”
“Well, not
in
it. You get all this stuff. Kati deals with most of it. Take whatever you want in there.”
It’s kind of crazy. There are
bags
of stuff in there. Watches, sneakers,
“Yeah,” I said, sucking at my Slurpee. “Yeah.”
The attraction between two bodies is proportional to their masses. This is the law of gravity, but there is nothing in the law that tell us WHY that should be so.
I agree with Mark. Thinking about gravity, really thinking about it, can kind of freak you out.
Actually, Luke
still
mostly feels that the sky is a kind of protective dome. In many instances he has been able to replace intuition with acquired knowledge, but in this case he has failed. However, he is prepared to accept that what he feels is wrong, and what science has proved is correct.
Luke had spent the day watching. He watched his father watch his own reflection in the mirrors at the gym, watched the couple sitting next to them at lunch watch his father eat a frittata, watched his father watch himself, Luke, at the observatory. Luke had watched the sun. He located the signals being sent to him, around him, for him. Luke experienced happiness in meeting those signals successfully. He enjoyed his father’s enjoyment of the Slurpee, and his father’s enjoyment of Luke’s enjoyment of his own Slurpee.
He enjoyed seeing his father recognized, enjoyed feeling slightly famous himself, enjoyed feeling that he was the person whom Mark
wanted
to talk to.
Later that evening, as Luke was getting ready for bed, Mark came into Luke’s room holding a leather jacket.
“I just found this in my closet,” Mark says. “Here. Try it on.”
“It’ll be huge on me,” says Luke, but, “No, it’s small on me,” says Mark, and so Luke puts it on. It fits perfectly.
“It’s yours,” says Mark. “It looks way better on you, man.”
Luke has never owned anything made of real leather. His Nana does not have a problem with leather (God gave Adam and Eve coats of skins to wear, John the Baptist wore leather, etc.), but Sara prefers natural or micro fibers. Luke has only bought a few of his own clothes, and he has yet to consider where he personally stands on the ethics of leather.
“Good night.” Mark puts a hand on Luke’s leather-clad shoulder and jostles it slightly. “Thanks for today.” Mark leaves.
Luke stands in the bedroom that he now thinks of as “his” bedroom and inhales the scent of the jacket. He puts his hands inside the jacket pockets, discovers a coin in the right one. He holds the coin hard in his hand, turns it over and over, rubs it between his thumb and forefinger. Luke experiences a sudden rush of emotion: a tightening and throbbing in his throat, as if his throat were a cocoon for something alive, something with a hundred little legs. Luke thinks for a moment that he might cry, half laughs at himself, takes the jacket off, and hangs it carefully in his closet.
CHAPTER FIVE
O kay, so your mom and your sisters,” Mark said to me at the gym this morning. “I’m getting them. What about your Nana, though? What’s her deal? She’s religious or something?”
“They’re called the New Plymouth Brethren,” I explained. “It’s kind of a splinter cell from the regular Plymouth Brethren, who are really fundamentalist.”
“You go to church?”
“They call it Assembly. Yeah, I go. We all used to go. Well, not Sara. But us kids. For awhile. It’s kind of complicated.”
I told him I would try an essay about Nana today, while he was at work. Then I’m going to go for a bike ride in Griffith Park. He’s got a regular Schwinn twelve-speed in the garage, along with the most awesome dirt bike ever. I explored the garage yesterday. There are all kinds of things in there. The dirt bike is brand-new. He hasn’t even ridden it yet.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “That was part of some gift basket.”
“Someone sent you the Z250 in a gift basket? That’s like a six-thousand-dollar bike.”
“Well, not
in
it. You get all this stuff. Kati deals with most of it. Take whatever you want in there.”
It’s kind of crazy. There are
bags
of stuff in there. Watches, sneakers,
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