Authors: Laura Ruby
Bone Gap (32 page)
“I'd call her . . . unique.”
“You would not.”
“Would too.”
“Finn would, anyway.”
“Finn would.”
“She not here?”
Sean stood next to Finn, hands in his pockets, huge and muscular and as superhero-ish as ever.
“Not yet,” said Finn.
Sean said, “Nice party.”
“Yeah.”
“Got a lot of fans now.”
“You always did.”
Sean laughed. “I meant you. You should have heard the Rude brothers going on.”
“Before you say it, Derek's boyfriend doesn't look anything like me.”
“How would you know?” Sean said.
“He walks like his pants are too tight.”
“His pants
are
too tight. Derek's happy, though. Don't think he's going to beat you up anymore.”
“Actually, I think he's the one who always held back.”
Sean said, “Listen, I know I said it already, butâ”
“Stop.”
“I was a jerk.”
“I have to warn you, if you and Roza break up, I'm siding with her.”
“You might have to move to Poland, then. It's official. She's leaving next month.”
“You couldn't convince her to stay?”
“I said there are schools here, and Jonas said he could help with the immigration status, since no one would deport a kidnapping victim.”
“That's romantic. A shocker it didn't work.”
Sean rolled a stone under his work boot. “I might have said some other stuff. But she needs to see her grandmother. And she has things to do on her own before, well, before she does anything else.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Neither of them saw Roza until she was thrusting a plate between them. “Eat.”
Sean and Finn peered glumly at the plate.
“Come on, eat.”
Finn and Sean each took one. Finn said, “What are these called again?”
“Kolaczki,” she said. Before they could bite into them, Roza said, “You eat cookie, you must visit me in Poland. Is rule.”
“Is that so?” Finn said. He popped the cookie into his mouth. “Delicious.”
“Secret is pomegranate filling,” said Roza. “My own recipe.”
“I'll remember that,” Finn said.
“I remember always what you do.” Roza kissed his cheek. “And what
you
do,” she said to Sean, and kissed him, longer. Then she laughed. “You do very different things.”
Finn, who never wanted to see his brother cry, now got to watch him blush the shade of pomegranates.
“No more gush,” said Roza. “More cookies. I'll be back.”
The brothers watched her go.
Finn said, “You'll just have to trust her.”
“Yeah.”
“You're young, too. Maybe you've got some stuff you want to do.”
Sean nodded. “Maybe.”
“And I hear Poland is beautiful in fall.”
Sean snorted.
They looked up at the sky. It was a warm, clear night, and it seemed that the stars were putting on a show. Which wasn't surprising. The whole town seemed to be doing that, the flowers finally revealing their colors, trees shedding yellowing leaves
for shiny new ones, gardens bursting with ladybugs and vegetables as if the spring had never died in the first place, and the summer would never end.
“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?”
Petey could have been a bee or a butterfly with her tattered silver wings veined with gold, the silver mask hiding her face. But because Petey was Petey, she had paired the wings and mask with a white T-shirt, a pair of cut-offs, and Converse gym shoes.
“Nice wings,” said Sean.
“Thanks!”
“I think I'll let you guys commune with nature.” Sean clapped Finn on the shoulder and ambled back to the Chat 'n' Chew, humming to himself.
Petey said, “Was that Sean O'Sullivan
humming to himself
?”
“He's acting a little crazy these days.”
“Distracted?”
“You could say that.”
“Sidetracked?”
“Sure.”
She poked at his face. “Mooning around?”
Finn smiled. “Quite a bit, actually.”
“Huh,” said Petey. “Wonder what's wrong with him.”
“Some chick.”
“Just any chick?”
“Nah. Special.”
“Pretty?”
“He thinks so.”
“What do you think?”
“I think she's awesome, but I found a honey of my own.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Honey? Ugh.”
“I'm just getting warmed up.”
Petey grinned and backed away, gauzy wings fluttering against a wall of corn.
“Hey,” he said. “Where are you going?”
She tapped the silver mask. “If you catch me, I'll let you take it off.”
And then a gentle wind blew across the cornfields, and the corn whispered
here, here, here.
Petey dove into the vast sea of green, and Finn after her, the voices of the people of Bone Gap swelling like a chorus behind them, the moon winking above them, the corn laughing with them, because it would have known them anywhere.
THE IDEA FOR THIS NOVEL FIRST CAME TO ME SOME SEVEN
years ago when my late father-in-law, Raymond Metro, handed me a newspaper article and got me thinking about the way we see the people we love. I miss him still.
But this book would never have come together without the time, help, and support of so many others. First, I must thank the people of Bone Gap, Illinois, who might be surprised to learn that their town is full of whispering corn, quasimythical creatures, and mysterious gaps one can slip through to get to other worlds. (Or not.)
Thanks to my dad, Richard Ruby, for all his colorful tales
about the horses on my great-grandfather's farm. Thanks also to Linda Zimmerman and her daughter, Kelly Zimmerman, who invited me up to their beautiful home in Wisconsin to talk about everything from runaway racehorses named Mellowânot so very mellowâto barn cats that won't be confined to the barn.
Thanks to Kathy Lipski for her expert take on Roza's story, and to her parents, Bruno and Sophie Ogrodny, for their assistance with the more obscure Polish translations.
And thanks to beekeeper Mollie Edgar, who patiently weathered all my pesky inquiries about swarming behavior, and to Robin Blatzheim for chatting about the job of an EMT.
Much gratitude to everyone on the Faceblind listerv at Yahoo Groups for answering my questions and for sharing their stories. A special thanks to Malcolm Cowen and Amy B. Mucha for so generously taking the time to read and comment on this manuscript. Their feedback was invaluable; any error in fact or perspective is mine.
I owe the amazing Ellen Reagan an enormous debt for her sharp eye and her encyclopedic knowledge on everything from runoff channels in cornfields to the offspring of the goddess Demeter. And I'm further indebted to the incomparable Franny Billingsley, who read the first draft of this book and said the words that reverberated in my head as I revised it: “I want more magic.”
To Tina Wexler, a spectacular agent, reader, and cat lover: I can't thank you enough for taking this book, and me, on. You're a tiny warrior of justice.
And thanks, too, to everyone at Balzer + Bray and the rest of the folks at HarperCollins, especially my editor, Jordan Brown, whose deep and thoughtful feedback and willingness to go to the mat for his authors is unprecedented. Many thanks also to Michelle Taormina, who designed the gorgeous cover, and to Sean Freeman for the striking bee art.
For the many words of support and encouragement, thank you, Esther Hershenhorn, Esme Raji Codell, Carolyn Crimi, Myra Sanderman, Jenny Meyerhoff, Brenda Ferber, Mary Loftus, and Carol Grannick. Thanks in particular to Sarah Aronson, Tanya Lee Stone, and Katie Davis for knowing when to call when I most need it.
Thanks to all my brilliant colleagues and friends in the Hamline MFAC program, including Swati Avasthi for the late-night Googling of cake people and the handouts for every occasion, Miriam Busch and Christine Heppermann for the thrift store outings and the bitch sessions, and Megan Atwood for talking me down from the Tower.
Thanks always, always, always to Anne Ursu, Gretchen Moran Laskas, Linda Rasmussen, and Annika Cioffiâyou know why. Melissa Ruby, you do, too.
Finally, thanks to Steve, who sees me like nobody else does.
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