by Arthur Slade
“How long will you be gone?”
“A few weeks. The doctors want me to rest. And there’ll be some tests and such. I’ll e-mail you as soon as I’m home.”
“Take care, my friend,” Jacob said as the cab pulled up. They shook hands, then Newton pushed his hand aside to give him a quick hug. Jacob looked pleased.
By the time Newton had buckled his seat belt, a crowd of kilted students had gathered. People stared at him or waved hello. Newton was the now famous boy who’d been struck by lightning and lived to tell about it. That inspired a certain amount of awe. As the cab pulled away, he saluted them all.
It was a long, silent flight home. Joséphine had been put in the cargo hold. Newton hoped she wasn’t bored.
At one point, while he thought Newton was sleeping, his father put his hand over Newton’s.
“I’m glad you’re coming home. Alive. You’re a survivor.”
Newton’s Rules for Survival
* * *
20.Remember to smell the roses.
21.Check the weather. Check it again.
Epilogue
During his second week home, on a bright, sunny day, Newton walked down Seattle Hill Road with Joséphine at his side. He was in a remarkably good mood, considering he’d been carrying around a headache for the last eight days. This was his first long walk since being home, and he’d been feeling cooped up.
He’d checked the weather several times and was pleased that the sun would be out for a few days. This particular part of Snohomish reminded him of Jerry Potts Academy, and that made him miss Jacob and Mr. Dumont. And Violet. He still hadn’t quite figured out where she fit into his life. A friend? More than a friend? She’d been texting him every day. Best to just let things happen and see where it goes.
Newton turned off the road at the Marshland Cemetery. He walked through the graveyard, past old headstones, some so weathered the names had faded.
His mother’s gravestone was in the newer section. It had fresh flowers around it; his father had been here recently. Joséphine sniffed at one and let out a cheerful oink.
The headstone read DELILAH STARKER, MUCH LOVED. Oddly, at the top of it was a mark like a burn, as though even in death the lightning wouldn’t leave her alone. You’re safe now, Mom. You’re safe.
He had imagined he would be sad coming here, that he might even weep standing at her grave. Instead he was comforted. For him, she wasn’t really gone. He had vivid memories of her time on this earth. She had been such a good mother.
“I know how you felt,” he said. “I know what it’s like to be afraid. I understand. I don’t know if we’ve won or if the lightning will come again. But I’m not afraid of it anymore.”
Joséphine seemed to oink in agreement.
Newton breathed in deeply. There was something in the air, something earthy and irresistible, almost like the scent of truffles.
About the Author
Arthur Slade was raised in the Cypress Hills of southwest Saskatchewan and began writing at an early age. He is the author of nineteen books, including Dust (which won the Governor General's award), Flickers, and Modo: Mission Clockwork (which won the Grand prix de L’Imaginaire). He currently lives in Saskatoon, Canada.
Connect with Arthur Slade online:
www.arthurslade.com
Also by Arthur Slade
A rainmaker comes to town and brings much needed rain, but the children begin to disappear…
Dust
* * *
The tale of a sweet librarian. Who also happens to be an assassin and a vampire…
Amber Fang
Arthur Slade’s Somewhat Incredibly Funny Newsletter
Thanks for reading this book! Please leave an honest review online—it’s a great help for getting the word out.
Also, get a free book by signing up for my newsletter. You’ll also get the latest in Arthur Slade’s book and movie news. Just click the image or the link below. You can unsubscribe at any time.
www.arthurslade.com
