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that we will. We head away from the lights of the restaurant and toward the darkened beach. Above, the clouds have hidden the moon. We slip off our sandals, walk close to the water’s edge, and sink our toes into the cooling sand. Nighttime waves crash mightier and louder than daytime ones. The farther we walk, the fewer people we see, until it begins to feel as though we’ve left civilization behind. Olly steers us to dry sand and we find a place to sit. He takes my hand and kisses the palm. “My dad apologized to us after he hit her the first time.” He pushes the sentence out on a single breath. It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. “He was crying.” The night is so dark that I feel rather than see him shake his head. “They sat us down together and he said he was sorry. He said it would never happen again. I remember Kara was so angry she wouldn’t even look at him. She knew he was a liar, but I believed him. My mom did, too. She told us to forget all about it. She said, ‘Your father has been through a lot.’ She said that she forgave him and that we should, too.” He gives me my hand back. “He didn’t hit her again for another year. He drank too much. He yelled at her. He yelled at all of us. But he didn’t hit her again for a long time.” I hold my breath for a moment and ask the question I’ve been wanting to ask. “Why doesn’t she leave him?” He snorts and his tone turns hard. “Don’t think I haven’t asked her.” He lies back in the sand, links his hands behind his head. “I think that if he hit her more often, she would leave him. If he were just a little more of a bastard maybe we could finally go. But he’s always sorry, and she always believes him.” I put my hand on his stomach, needing the contact. I think maybe he needs it, too, but then he sits up, pulls his knees into his chest, and rests his elbows on them. His body forms a cage that I can’t get into. “What does she say when you ask her?” “Nothing. She won’t talk about it anymore. She used to say that we’d understand when we’re older and in our own relationships.” I’m surprised by the anger in his voice. I never guessed that he was angry at his mother. His father, yes, but not her. He snorts again. “She says love makes people crazy.” “Do you believe that?” “Yes. No. Maybe.” “You’re not supposed to use all the answers,” I say. He smiles in the dark. “Yes, I believe it.” “Why?” “I’m all the way here in Hawaii with you. It’s not easy for me to leave them alone with him.” I tamp down my guilt before it can rise.
“Do you believe it?” he asks. “Yes. Definitely.” “Why?” “I’m all the way here in Hawaii with you,” I say, repeating his words. “I never would’ve left my house if it weren’t for you.” “So,” he says. He lowers his legs and takes my hand. “What do we do now?” I don’t know the answer to this question. The only thing I know for sure is that this— being here with Olly, being able to love him and be loved by him—is everything. “You should leave them,” I say. “It’s not safe for you there.” I say it because he doesn’t know it. He’s trapped by the same memory of love, of better times, that his mother is, and it isn’t enough. I rest my head on his shoulder and we watch the near-dark ocean together. We watch the way the water pulls back and turns over and beats against the sand, trying to wear the earth away. And even though it doesn’t succeed, it pulls back and pounds the shore again and again, as if there were no last time and there is no next time and this time is the time that counts.
- Page 128 and 129: ALOHA MEANS HELLO AND GOOD -BYE, PA
- Page 130 and 131: LATER, 9:08 P.M. OLLY’S ALREADY W
- Page 132 and 133: THE GLASS WALL A WEEK LATER, someth
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- Page 136 and 137: THE FIVE SENSES HEARING The alarm
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- Page 143 and 144: HAPPY ALREADY “MADS, BE SERIOUS.
- Page 145 and 146: I reach over and take his hand. “
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- Page 149 and 150: TTYL
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- Page 153 and 154: MADELINE’S DICTIONARY prom•ise
- Page 155 and 156: And, too, the world is in me.
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- Page 159 and 160: three meals and two snacks exactly
- Page 161 and 162: eathed the same filtered air for so
- Page 163 and 164: GUIDE TO HAWAIIAN REEF FISH
- Page 165 and 166: I’m sure I don’t want him to. *
- Page 167 and 168: ZACH BACK AT THE hotel, Olly calls
- Page 169 and 170: Do you have my daughter? Is she OK?
- Page 171 and 172: THE MURPHY BED IT’S LATE AFTERNOO
- Page 173 and 174: ALL THE WORDS I COME AWAKE slowly,
- Page 175 and 176: MADELINE’S DICTIONARY in•fi•n
- Page 177: THIS TIME OLLY SMILES. HE will not
- Page 181 and 182: THE END SOMEONE HAS PUT me in a hot
- Page 183 and 184: My. Heart. Stops.
- Page 185 and 186: RELEASED, PART ONE
- Page 187 and 188: READMITTED MY MOM HAS transformed m
- Page 189 and 190: RELEASED, PART TWO Wednesday, 6:56
- Page 191 and 192: Madeline: but mine isn’t
- Page 193 and 194: GEOGRAPHY I’M IN AN endless field
- Page 195 and 196: LIFE IS SHORT SPOILER REVIEWS BY MA
- Page 197 and 198: PRETENDING I’M STRONGER WITH each
- Page 199 and 200: I’m trying not to focus on Olly,
- Page 201 and 202: FIVE SYLLABLES A MONTH LATER, just
- Page 203 and 204: HIS LAST LETTER IS HAIKU From: gene
- Page 205 and 206: FOR MY EYES ONLY From: Dr. Melissa
- Page 207 and 208: question if I have spoken after all
- Page 209 and 210: IDENTITY CARLA’S BARELY IN the do
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- Page 213 and 214: have SCID?” Her concern morphs in
- Page 215 and 216: I should feel compassion. But that
- Page 217 and 218: THE VOID A UNIVERSE THAT can wink i
- Page 219 and 220: “But my heart stopped.” “Yes.
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“Do you believe it?” he asks.<br />
“Yes. Definitely.”<br />
“Why?”<br />
“I’m all the way here in Hawaii with you,” I say, repeating his words. “I never would’ve<br />
left my house if it weren’t for you.”<br />
“So,” he says. He lowers his legs and takes my hand. “What do we do now?”<br />
I don’t know the answer to this question. The only thing I know for sure is that this—<br />
being here with Olly, being able to love him and be loved by him—is everything.<br />
“You should leave them,” I say. “It’s not safe for you there.” I say it because he doesn’t<br />
know it. He’s trapped by the same memory of love, of better times, that his mother is, and<br />
it isn’t enough.<br />
I rest my head on his shoulder and we watch the near-dark ocean together. We watch<br />
the way the water pulls back and turns over and beats against the sand, trying to wear the<br />
earth away. And even though it doesn’t succeed, it pulls back and pounds the shore again<br />
and again, as if there were no last time and there is no next time and this time is the time<br />
that counts.
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