Read Online Evidence of Things Not Seen by Lindsey Lane - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsey Lane
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, Visionary & Metaphysical, Emotions & Feelings, Lifestyles, Country Life
Ads: Link
trusting. Not cautious or scared enough.
You’re welcome to take all the books in his room. The librarians in Johnson City and Fredericksburg were always getting books sent over from the university. What do you do when your son wants to talk with you about particle physics? Or string theory? One time he asked if I thought it was possible to get to another dimension without dying. I didn’t know what to tell him. I don’t know half the stuff he knows. I mean, I’ve heard of the big bang and black holes. Mostly from science-fiction books I read as a kid. Not from an AP physics class or books I checked out from the library. People around here, well, that kind of thinking is blasphemous.
Mattie and I are big on the truth. If someone asks a question, that means they’re ready to hear the truth. But what do you say when someone asks you about possibilities, about things that aren’t proven, that barely exist?
I told him what I thought was the truth. I told him that if you can imagine something, then it might possibly exist.
Now I wonder what he was imagining. I wonder what he was trying to find out.
MAY 22 . EIGHTEEN DAYS MISSING
HYPOTHESIS
“Ooops, hang on, Alex.” Izzy brakes hard and turns her beat-up Toyota off the highway into the pull-out. The car drops off the lip of the highway and clunks onto the dirt and caliche. Izzy yanks the steering wheel left and right, trying to avoid the potholes, but with each turn the headlamps catch another hole right before the tire rolls into it.
“Whoa, Izzy. Slow down.” Alex grabs the dashboard as the car rocks back and forth.
Izzy careens to a stop in front of a cluster of cedar and mesquite trees. A rusty old trash can stands in the way. She thinks about jumping out and moving it or knocking it over with her fender. Instead, she squeezes the car in between the can and the trees and parks as close as possible to the trees. The cedar branches scrape one side of her car. No biggie. She noses the car under the branches and looks in her rearview mirror. Perfect. Tucked under these trees with the trash can behind them, she hopes no cars passing by will spot them.
She turns to Alex. “Let’s get out.”
Alex doesn’t move. “What the hell are we doing out here, Iz?”
“I want to talk.”
“Why here?”
“Because I don’t want to be in the library or your front porch where we usually talk.”
“About what?”
Alex barely said a word the whole ride out here. Usually he likes hanging out and talking with her. Now he seems irritated.
“Come on, Al, let’s get out of the car.”
Alex doesn’t say anything. He opens his door and stands beside it like he is obeying her order. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Geez, Alex. What’d I do to piss you off so bad?”
“As usual, you have no clue, do you, Iz?”
“What?” Izzy says, drawling the word into as many syllables as it took for her to toss her hair back and bat her eyes, trying imitate a dimmer version of herself. She is hoping she’d get a laugh but, truth be told, she’s a little mystified about why Alex is mad. It’s not like he was doing anything except obsessing over typeface and font size.
“I’m in the middle of building someone’s website. Yes, I know. Computer science isn’t really science, according to you. But it’s a job, by the way. It’s nine o’clock on a school night during exam week. You come over to my house, stand in front of my computer, and order me to get in the car. You babble on about useless school shit instead of telling me what’s going on. Now you are ordering me out of the car. You’re bossy, Izzy, and it’s pretty effing annoying.”
“Oh.” Izzy ducks under the trees and walks around to the front of the car. The heat from the car’s engine seems to exhale onto her bare legs under her skirt. One of the things she loves about her longtime friendship with Alex is how he doesn’t hold back when something bugs him; he tells her straight out.
You’re welcome to take all the books in his room. The librarians in Johnson City and Fredericksburg were always getting books sent over from the university. What do you do when your son wants to talk with you about particle physics? Or string theory? One time he asked if I thought it was possible to get to another dimension without dying. I didn’t know what to tell him. I don’t know half the stuff he knows. I mean, I’ve heard of the big bang and black holes. Mostly from science-fiction books I read as a kid. Not from an AP physics class or books I checked out from the library. People around here, well, that kind of thinking is blasphemous.
Mattie and I are big on the truth. If someone asks a question, that means they’re ready to hear the truth. But what do you say when someone asks you about possibilities, about things that aren’t proven, that barely exist?
I told him what I thought was the truth. I told him that if you can imagine something, then it might possibly exist.
Now I wonder what he was imagining. I wonder what he was trying to find out.
MAY 22 . EIGHTEEN DAYS MISSING
HYPOTHESIS
“Ooops, hang on, Alex.” Izzy brakes hard and turns her beat-up Toyota off the highway into the pull-out. The car drops off the lip of the highway and clunks onto the dirt and caliche. Izzy yanks the steering wheel left and right, trying to avoid the potholes, but with each turn the headlamps catch another hole right before the tire rolls into it.
“Whoa, Izzy. Slow down.” Alex grabs the dashboard as the car rocks back and forth.
Izzy careens to a stop in front of a cluster of cedar and mesquite trees. A rusty old trash can stands in the way. She thinks about jumping out and moving it or knocking it over with her fender. Instead, she squeezes the car in between the can and the trees and parks as close as possible to the trees. The cedar branches scrape one side of her car. No biggie. She noses the car under the branches and looks in her rearview mirror. Perfect. Tucked under these trees with the trash can behind them, she hopes no cars passing by will spot them.
She turns to Alex. “Let’s get out.”
Alex doesn’t move. “What the hell are we doing out here, Iz?”
“I want to talk.”
“Why here?”
“Because I don’t want to be in the library or your front porch where we usually talk.”
“About what?”
Alex barely said a word the whole ride out here. Usually he likes hanging out and talking with her. Now he seems irritated.
“Come on, Al, let’s get out of the car.”
Alex doesn’t say anything. He opens his door and stands beside it like he is obeying her order. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“Geez, Alex. What’d I do to piss you off so bad?”
“As usual, you have no clue, do you, Iz?”
“What?” Izzy says, drawling the word into as many syllables as it took for her to toss her hair back and bat her eyes, trying imitate a dimmer version of herself. She is hoping she’d get a laugh but, truth be told, she’s a little mystified about why Alex is mad. It’s not like he was doing anything except obsessing over typeface and font size.
“I’m in the middle of building someone’s website. Yes, I know. Computer science isn’t really science, according to you. But it’s a job, by the way. It’s nine o’clock on a school night during exam week. You come over to my house, stand in front of my computer, and order me to get in the car. You babble on about useless school shit instead of telling me what’s going on. Now you are ordering me out of the car. You’re bossy, Izzy, and it’s pretty effing annoying.”
“Oh.” Izzy ducks under the trees and walks around to the front of the car. The heat from the car’s engine seems to exhale onto her bare legs under her skirt. One of the things she loves about her longtime friendship with Alex is how he doesn’t hold back when something bugs him; he tells her straight out.
Similar Books
