Rich Shapero Read Online Free Page A

to happen," Dad said under his breath.
    "What do you mean? What's wrong?"
    "I want you to stay away from
her," Mom said.
    "But—"
    "No 'buts.'"
    "You don't under—"
    "We've lived next door to them for two
years, Robbie. There's a reason I haven't taken you over to play."
"You don't understand—"
    "No," Mom said.
"You have other friends." "Fristeen isn't just a—"
    "No," Mom repeated
sternly.
    "I'm going to marry her," Robbie
exclaimed. Mom was dumbstruck.
    Dad looked from the mail to Mom. "Did
we get an invitation?"
    The humor pierced her bewilderment. She
made a dazed face and rolled her eyes. "Until then," Mom laughed,
"you're not to play with her. Are we clear?" "But—"
"Are we clear?"
    Dad nodded. "Mom's right," he
said.
    ***
    When it was bedtime, Dad came in to read
him a story. Robbie was sitting with his back against the pillow and his legs
beneath the sheets, sulking.
    "What's wrong?" Dad said.
    "You know."
    Dad's hands shot out. Robbie crowded his
arms together, but Dad's fingers found the gaps, playing his ribs like a toy
piano.
    Robbie howled and writhed till he cried.
    When they had both calmed down, Dad pulled
a book from the shelf.
    "Right here, Doc," Robbie patted
the bed.
    Dad laughed and sat beside him. "It'll
be awhile."
    Robbie closed one eye, as if taking aim,
pointing his finger in his father's face. "Your brain is a forest."
    "And the nerves are trees," Dad
sang out.
    "When the branches touch—" Robbie
brought his forefingers together.
    "Snaps jump between the leaves!"
    They squinted at each other, and then Dad
opened the book.
    Robbie put his hand over the title page.
"I want to go to the lab."
    "Sure."
    "And look through the
microscope."
    "At. . . anything in particular?"
    Robbie looked at the wall opposite. A large
poster hung there, showing a brain in cross-section. It was ringed with
examples of branching nerves. The riddle of the mind—that was an interest he
and Dad shared.
    "Thoughts travel around inside
nerves," Robbie said. "I've seen nerves in the lab. I want to see
thoughts."
    Dad frowned.
    "It's not that simple," Robbie
guessed.
    Dad shook his head. "Nerves and
chemicals are physical mechanisms. They produce thoughts. But we can't see
them."
    "When you're older, you decide what
thoughts you're going to have." Robbie regarded him. "Don't
you?"
    "What do you mean?"
    "Mine just fly out of nowhere. Because
I'm six. Right?"
    "You'll have more control over them
when you're older. But thoughts are that way. They come and go without
permission. They can surprise you. Shock you. Overpower you. The way they take
control of the mind is a great mystery." He paused. "Is this about
the Hill?"
    Robbie peered into Dad's eyes. He didn't
have to say anything. Dad's eyes were razor sharp, and in their depths the
darkness was irising open.
    "Thought takes us to our limits,"
Dad said softly. "The highest mountains, the deepest oceans— And beyond,
into the cosmos. To distant galaxies and boundless space. Thought seeks the
unknown."
    "Exploring," Robbie said.
    "Yep." Dad put his arm around
Robbie and held him close.
    "Mom doesn't understand."
    Dad didn't reply. He gazed at the open book
for what seemed a long time. Sometimes a thought takes hold of you and won't
let go.
    "She does understand," Dad said
finally. "You don't remember what it was like in California— And before
you were born—" He stopped cold.
    "What?"
    Dad shook the thought off. "The moose
that killed that boy in Nenana— That scared her. It scared me, too."
    "He was feeding it peanut butter
sandwiches."
    Dad eyed Robbie sadly. "Mom would do
anything for you. We're lucky to have her. Don't make things harder for
her."
    "Just tell me why."
    "Why what?"
    "Why she doesn't like Fristeen."
    "Let's not get into that."
    "Has she ever met her?"
    "Probably not."
    "What about you?"
    Dad shook his head. "I bet she's a
firecracker."
    Robbie laughed, and a little star burst to
life between Dad's mind and his.
    "Now listen—" Dad turned serious.
"The