Read Online Henry Franks by Peter Adam Salomon - Free Book Online Page A

through his hair, unable, as always, to figure out where to rest his eyes.
    â€œWhen?” she asked again, leaning into him with the turns the bus was making on its journey home.
    â€œAfter second period. You walked by me.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œPink nail polish.” He looked up in time to watch a smile crawl across her face.
    â€œWhat will you do when I change colors?”
    He shrugged. “I check in the mornings.”
    She turned to face him, her smile as wide as he’d ever seen it. A slight blush spread across her skin and for a moment he not only forgot to breathe, he forgot how.
    â€œYou had a dream?” she asked, the words barely spoken out loud. He found himself leaning closer to her to hear.
    â€œDr. Saville says it’s a part of the process,” he said. “I have these dreams, about people I don’t know, places I’ve never been.”
    â€œAre they from before the accident?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” he said.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œEver have the same dream over and over again?” he asked.
    She nodded.
    â€œSeem real, don’t they?”
    â€œSometimes.”
    â€œMine are always like that.”
    â€œLast night?”
    â€œI have a daughter,” he said, hiding behind his hair. “Her name’s Elizabeth.”
    Her mouth dropped open and for a moment she didn’t speak at all. “For real?” she asked, her voice quiet.
    â€œIn the dream.”
    â€œAren’t you my age?”
    â€œSixteen,” he said, moving his hair out of the way to look at her.
    â€œHow do you know she’s your daughter?”
    Henry sighed. “She calls me Daddy.”
    â€œWell, now I know why you don’t think it’s from before the accident.”
    â€œJust felt so real. Then I woke up.” Henry turned and looked out the window as they passed the hospital. Police cars blocked the entrance where a local news van was parked, the antenna stabbing into the sky.
    â€œIt’s not as creepy as it looks,” she said, her voice soft.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œThe hospital.” She pointed out the window as they left the facility behind. “My dad’s cousin is in there.” She shook her head with a quick smile. “I’ve only met him once; he’s a lot older. Used to live in Waycross, I think. He’s been there as long as I can remember.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Henry said, turning to face her.
    She shrugged. “My dad visits him every so often. He dragged me along once. Wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be from all the barbed wire, you know?”
    The bus came to a stop and Henry followed Justine down the steps to the street.
    â€œAlmost as good as a breeze,” she said while swinging around in a circle, her hair flying out around her face.
    â€œAlmost.”
    â€œDo you dream about dead people a lot?”
    â€œLately.”
    â€œBeen in the news.”
    â€œWhat?” he asked.
    â€œDead people. Lots of dead people around town.”
    They stopped where the low metal gate swung open to the walkway to his house. It wouldn’t stay shut; the hinges were rusty and the white paint was flaking off like dandruff. Since there was no fence anywhere else around the front half of the property, it didn’t much matter, really, if the lonely gate was closed or not.
    â€œSweet dreams, Henry,” she said, and rested her hand on his arm for a moment before she walked toward her house.
    â€œThanks,” he said; then, louder, so she could hear, he said it again, standing on the sidewalk watching her walk away.

    Hinges squealed as the door opened. William jumped at the sound, turning around just as Henry walked into the kitchen. The hint of a smile on his son’s face faded as they stared at each other. William looked down at the bloodstains on his work clothes and tried to hide them behind his hands.
    â€œSorry,” he said