Now and Again (52 page)

Will said his cue word and felt the power surge through him—inward from his hands and upward from his feet—accompanied by a blast of heat in his groin. He experienced the resonating moment and visualized success. His adrenaline kicked in, right on cue, making time slow down, which gave him a split second to decide whether to run or take cover behind a nearby pile of rocks. His legs were ready, muscles tensed. He took a lead and tried to pretend he was stealing home. He could make it. He knew he could make it in any test between him and the player with the ball. Unless it was only luck that counted. Unless everything was due to chance. He wondered if the other soldiers were right when they said that it had all been set in motion long ago. In that case, it didn't matter what he did.

Out of the corner of his eye, the rock pile dissolved into light and shadow, solid and void, suggesting a depression in the earth or a recess or cave. He adjusted his hold on Nate and pressed his lead foot into the ground. He visualized his parents cheering from the stands. He heard the coach shouting at him to run like the devil was after him, and he thought it probably was. He remembered the drill sergeant who had smoked him in basic, and he remembered that can't was not an option. He hoped Tula was right that a person could change things. “Spider-Man,” he said on the chance that he could defy whatever destiny was hurtling toward him. Maybe he couldn't, but maybe he could.

Beyond the world of this novel is another world of people who helped bring it to life—writers and thinkers who opened my eyes or caused me to question, soldiers who shared their experiences, experts who took care of the details of publication, and editors and early readers who understood what I was trying to do—or didn't, which was helpful too. My heartfelt thanks to you all, particularly to Reagan Arthur and David McCormick, who were there from the beginning; and to Ursula Doyle, Terry Adams, Heather Fain, Matt Carlini, Betsy Uhrig, Shannon Langone, Carrie Neill, Susan Hobson, Bridget McCarthy, Emma Borges-Scott, Ayad Akhtar, Kevin Shushtari, Jami Attenberg, Melissa Sterry, Syndi Allgood, Graham Pulliam, and others who prefer to remain unnamed.

Special thanks go to Bruce Smart for the title; to Kapo Ng and Nico Taylor for the covers; to Kevin and Stephanie for the faith; to Nick for the insights on ethics, eternal return, and
amor fati;
and to Olivia for her sharp eye and even sharper opinions, as well as for sending me this, from Camus:

Maman must have felt free then and ready to live it all again. Nobody, nobody had the right to cry over her. And I felt ready to live it all again too. As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother really—I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again.

Charlotte Rogan studied architecture at Princeton University and worked for a large construction firm before turning to fiction. She is the author of
The Lifeboat,
which was nominated for the
Guardian
first book award and the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award and which has been translated into twenty-six languages. After many years in Dallas and a year in Johannesburg, she now lives in Westport, Connecticut.
 

The Lifeboat

To receive special offers, bonus content, and news about our latest ebooks and apps, sign up for our newsletters.

Sign Up

Or visit us at
hachettebookgroup.com/newsletters