Read Online Dreams of Bread and Fire by Nancy Kricorian - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nancy Kricorian
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lonely in this foreign city as she was.
Michael fell asleep and Ani listened to his slow, steady breath.
If two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone ?
She drifted into sleep feeling calmer than she had in days.
In the morning, Michael insisted on accompanying her home on the metro. He kissed the back of her hand as they sat watching the stations go by. She could barely meet his gaze.
She was worried that she might have ruined their friendship. Companions were hard to come by in Paris. Aside from Michael, Ani had one prospective friend, a woman in her modern dance class. Even though Tacey and Sydney filled her hours, they weren’t exactly comrades. Would she still be able to go to the movies with Michael after this?
After Michael left her at her door, she ascended to her silent room. She followed a rectangle of sun as it inched across her bed. She listened to the slow slide of her breath. In its rhythm she heard the echoes of a favorite poem.
You may have all things from me, save my breath,
The slight life in my throat will not give pause
For your love, nor your loss, nor any cause. . . .
Asa Willard had emptied her pocket. He had stripped the walls. He had taken a hacksaw to her leg and amputated it above the ankle. She would hobble around, remembering what it was like to walk on two good feet.
Even at the worst moments with Asa—when she was scared or he was deliberately unkind—she had never been bored.
The previous summer they had hitchhiked across the country to Seattle, stopping in Boulder for a few days, where they had climbed one of the Flatirons. Sure, Ani was afraid of heights and had panicked during the crux move of the climb, but at the end it was worth it. They had feasted under the blue banner of the sky at the top of the world. Hawks had circled around so close that Ani felt as though she could have touched a tail feather. When would she ever do something like that again?
The day after their climb, a friend of Asa’s had dropped them off outside the Rio Grande freight train yard in Denver, where they had sneaked past the NO TRESPASSING signs. The sky was overcast and it began to drizzle. Train whistles blew sharp and high over the desolate yard. Ani and Asa pulled rain ponchos from their packs and crouched between the fence and some rusted red boxcars. Nearby a dirty triple-decker was loaded with new American sedans streaked with dust. Tracks stretched into the distance.
Asa whispered, You wait here while I scope out the scene.
He was tense and wired for action, as though they were partisans about to blow up a bridge ahead of an occupying army.
Our mission depends on you, Asa Willard, Ani whispered back.
Crouching low, he trotted into the dark.
Two minutes later a watchman ambled by holding a large flashlight. When he aimed its stark beam on Ani, she had visions of spending the night in the Denver jail.
Where are you headed? he asked, not unkindly.
Salt Lake, Ani replied.
You’re not alone here, are you, young lady? the watchman asked with concern.
My boyfriend’s looking for the next train out, she explained.
The man gestured to a line of cars several tracks over. That’ll be the jackrabbit to Salt Lake. He nodded at Ani and went back to his rounds.
When Asa returned he said, Damn. I have no idea which train we should take.
Ani pointed. That one over there is the jackrabbit to Salt Lake.
How do you know that? he asked skeptically.
The bull told me.
Ani and Asa crept alongside the train until they located an open boxcar door and clambered in. The yard lights cast a parallelogram of brightness on the grimy wooden floor. They found several large sheets of heavy cardboard and pulled them to one end of the car. As they were settling into their corner two figures climbed in.
Hello, people, said a tall lean man. He was wearing soiled jeans and a denim work shirt rolled to the elbows. Don’t mind if we share the accommodations, do you?
No problem at all, Asa
Michael fell asleep and Ani listened to his slow, steady breath.
If two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone ?
She drifted into sleep feeling calmer than she had in days.
In the morning, Michael insisted on accompanying her home on the metro. He kissed the back of her hand as they sat watching the stations go by. She could barely meet his gaze.
She was worried that she might have ruined their friendship. Companions were hard to come by in Paris. Aside from Michael, Ani had one prospective friend, a woman in her modern dance class. Even though Tacey and Sydney filled her hours, they weren’t exactly comrades. Would she still be able to go to the movies with Michael after this?
After Michael left her at her door, she ascended to her silent room. She followed a rectangle of sun as it inched across her bed. She listened to the slow slide of her breath. In its rhythm she heard the echoes of a favorite poem.
You may have all things from me, save my breath,
The slight life in my throat will not give pause
For your love, nor your loss, nor any cause. . . .
Asa Willard had emptied her pocket. He had stripped the walls. He had taken a hacksaw to her leg and amputated it above the ankle. She would hobble around, remembering what it was like to walk on two good feet.
Even at the worst moments with Asa—when she was scared or he was deliberately unkind—she had never been bored.
The previous summer they had hitchhiked across the country to Seattle, stopping in Boulder for a few days, where they had climbed one of the Flatirons. Sure, Ani was afraid of heights and had panicked during the crux move of the climb, but at the end it was worth it. They had feasted under the blue banner of the sky at the top of the world. Hawks had circled around so close that Ani felt as though she could have touched a tail feather. When would she ever do something like that again?
The day after their climb, a friend of Asa’s had dropped them off outside the Rio Grande freight train yard in Denver, where they had sneaked past the NO TRESPASSING signs. The sky was overcast and it began to drizzle. Train whistles blew sharp and high over the desolate yard. Ani and Asa pulled rain ponchos from their packs and crouched between the fence and some rusted red boxcars. Nearby a dirty triple-decker was loaded with new American sedans streaked with dust. Tracks stretched into the distance.
Asa whispered, You wait here while I scope out the scene.
He was tense and wired for action, as though they were partisans about to blow up a bridge ahead of an occupying army.
Our mission depends on you, Asa Willard, Ani whispered back.
Crouching low, he trotted into the dark.
Two minutes later a watchman ambled by holding a large flashlight. When he aimed its stark beam on Ani, she had visions of spending the night in the Denver jail.
Where are you headed? he asked, not unkindly.
Salt Lake, Ani replied.
You’re not alone here, are you, young lady? the watchman asked with concern.
My boyfriend’s looking for the next train out, she explained.
The man gestured to a line of cars several tracks over. That’ll be the jackrabbit to Salt Lake. He nodded at Ani and went back to his rounds.
When Asa returned he said, Damn. I have no idea which train we should take.
Ani pointed. That one over there is the jackrabbit to Salt Lake.
How do you know that? he asked skeptically.
The bull told me.
Ani and Asa crept alongside the train until they located an open boxcar door and clambered in. The yard lights cast a parallelogram of brightness on the grimy wooden floor. They found several large sheets of heavy cardboard and pulled them to one end of the car. As they were settling into their corner two figures climbed in.
Hello, people, said a tall lean man. He was wearing soiled jeans and a denim work shirt rolled to the elbows. Don’t mind if we share the accommodations, do you?
No problem at all, Asa
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