“When I rest my head on the couch I know that it's coming, coming like something in the mail, something sent away for. We know it is coming, but are not sure when--weeks? months? She is fifty one. I am twenty-one. My sister is twenty-three. My brothers are twenty-four and seven. We are ready. We are not ready. People know.Our house sits on a sinkhole. Our house is the one being swept up in the tornado, the little train-set model floating helplessly, pathetically around in the howling black funnel. We're weak and tiny. We're Grenada. There are men parachuting from the sky.We are waiting for everything to finally stop working--the organs and systems, one by one, throwing up their hands--"The jig is up," says the endocrine; "I did what I could," says the stomach, or what's left of it; "We'll get em next time," adds the heart, with a friendly punch to the shoulder.”
“You just gotta tell her, man,’ I said. ‘You just gotta say, “Angela, I really like you, but there’s something you need to know: when we go to my house and hook up, we’ll be watched by the twenty-four hundred eyes of twelve hundred black Santas.”
“One and two and three and four and five and six…”Oh, God don’t let me hurt him.“…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…”Am I really doing this? Here? Is this real?“…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen…”We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one is going to find us. Even the fire has gone out.“…and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…”He’s dead. I’m just beating on his body.“…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three and twenty-four…”My arms hurt. How can my arms hurt now? Blake. I can’t. I can’t be here without you.“…and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty.”The next step was simple: cover his mouth and fill his lungs with air. Breathe into him with life’s breath. Livia did so, licked her lips, and started compressions again.“And one and two and three and four and five and six and seven…”I’ve got to be positive. I have to know he’ll make it.“…and eight and nine and ten and eleven and twelve and thirteen and fourteen…”We’re going to grow old together, Blake. We’re going to hold hands and kiss.“…and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…”I’m giving you all my energy. All this love and hope. It’s going from my heart to yours, through my hands.“…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three…”Feel it, Blake. Feel it.“…and twenty-four and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven…”I love you so much. I’m going to love you forever. Can you feel that, Blake?“…and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty.”Livia leaned down, repositioned Blake’s head, and filled his lungs twice more. As she put her hands on his chest to keep her rhythm, she looked down at his face, at his skin.“And one and two and three and four and five and six…”Am I imagining that? Your skin?“…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…”Blake! Blake, your skin! It’s just like glass, Blake. You’re really sparkling. I can see it. I can really see it. Your skin is amazing!Livia’s tears landed on her hard-pumping hands. Nothing would stop her from beating Blake’s heart for him now. Nothing. Not even the sound of people crashing through the woods.“…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen…”You’re glistening, Blake. I’ll never stop. I’ll never stop.”
“I have been around long enough to discount most superstitions for what they are: I was around when many of them began to take root, after all. But one superstition to which I happen to subscribe is that bad juju comes in threes. The saying in my time was, "Storm clouds are thrice cursed," but I can't talk like that and expect people to believe I'm a twenty-one year-old American. I have to say things like, "Shit happens, man.”
“My next memory is of waking up, it then being dark outside, and my brother and sister fast asleep on the couch. Sitting up I sensed something was broken. Maybe the night? It was open and alive with lights and noises and worried voices. The adults were up, and in and out: we were all waiting for something.”
“In the twenty-one years I lived with my mother, we moved at least twenty times.”