Pacific (9780802194800) by Tom Drury Page A

on a flat rock projecting over nothing. Someone had run a power line out here on scarred poles, but the line stopped and there was one last pole in the sand with nothing attached to it.
    â€œLook at that,” said Micah.
    Charlotte stared at the column of sky, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. “Would you mind if I bit you on the arm?” she said.
    â€œIs this a hypothetical question?”
    â€œI wouldn’t break the skin.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI don’t know. Sometimes I just get nervous and have to bite something. Do you know what I mean?”
    â€œDo it to yourself how you would do it.”
    She raised her forearm to her mouth and bit. Her eyes opened wide. Then she presented her arm and they examined it together. Slowly the pale white of teeth marks turned the lion-mane color of her skin.
    â€œAre you afraid it will hurt?” she said.
    â€œDoes it?”
    She shrugged. “Some?”
    Micah rolled the sleeve of his work shirt above the elbow and brushed off his arm.
    â€œDo you want to?” she said.
    â€œCan’t be that bad.”
    â€œGood man! I’m so excited.” She gathered her hair in an elastic band, settled beside him, and took his arm in both hands, drawing the two of them shoulder to shoulder.
    â€œNow you say when to stop,” she said.
    â€œOkay.”
    She bent her head and closed her eyes. At first Micah felt only the warmth of her mouth and the softness of her lips.
    Her teeth closed, gathering a cord of flesh. It didn’t hurt much at first, and then he felt the pressure inside his arm. He saw that it would be easy to play this game till blood was drawn.
    Charlotte opened her mouth when she realized he would not call it off. Her teeth had left an oval of perfect dashes, inside of which the hair on his arm was swirled and wet. His arm cooled as it dried.
    He looked at her and saw that she had tears in her eyes and realized that he did too. Maybe the bite had hurt more than he thought and maybe it was something else. They leaned their faces one toward the other without thinking and kissed for a long time.
    This was Micah’s first kiss, and he knew he would remember it all his life. When it was over they sat with their hands on the hot flat rock and legs stretched before them.

C HAPTER S IX
    S OMETIMES ALBERT Robeshaw wrote little profiles for the Stone City newspaper. He would drive around waiting for someone to catch his eye: an ice skater, a hobo, a bat ­biologist —someone doing something different that could be told in four hundred words.
    Late one afternoon he happened on Sandra Zulma practicing sword moves with a yardstick by the war memorial. She paused in her routine as Albert introduced himself.
    â€œI’ll tell you my story,” she said, “but first you have to buy me a drink.”
    Albert agreed, thinking this would make a good beginning. They crossed the street and walked down to a tavern called Bruiser’s, Sandra tapping the yardstick on the sidewalk like a blind woman.
    Albert bought beers, took them to the booth, and opened his notebook to an empty page. Sandra talked as Albert took notes. After a while he stopped taking notes.
    According to Sandra, she had come to the Midwest in a tunnel that ran beneath the ocean. She didn’t know how long this took. Months, probably, or a year. The tunnel was smooth and well lighted at first but eventually became dark and cold and narrow. She starved and stumbled; the rocks cut her hands and feet. Finally she collapsed, falling into a deep sleep.
    When she woke her hair had grown long and matted, her clothes turned to rags. She saw a light that had not been there before. Either she’d walked without knowing or someone had moved her. She crawled to the end of the tunnel, coming out on a ledge above a river.
    A troop of Boy Scouts waded across and handed up a canteen of water and she drank it all down and stood howling above the