I would thank him, someday, when I decided to start speaking again.
“Leave him be,” Mom was saying. “He’ll talk when he’s ready. He knows we love him, and nobody blames him for anything that might have happened.”
Dad muttered, “Okay, buster, don’t flash your dadgum lights at me, I’ll move over when I’m good and dang ready.” He cut so sharply into the right lane that I slid and banged my head on the wheel well. Sat up rubbing my head as a Starlite Blue Pinto zoomed past our old green station wagon. I hadn’t imagined there was more than one Starlite Blue Pinto in the world with those particular pinstripes. There went a shiny one, zooming ahead in the left lane, leaving me in the dust.
M
ARK
C
HILDRESS
was born in Monroeville, Alabama, and grew up in Ohio, Indiana, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Alabama. Childress is the author of five previous novels and three children’s books. His articles and reviews have appeared in the
New York Times, Los Angeles Times, Times
of London,
San Francisco Chronicle, Saturday Review, Chicago Tribune, Philadelphia Inquirer, Salon, Travel and Leisure,
and other national and international publications. He lives in New York City.