Bone Dance by Emma Bull

Author:Emma Bull [Bull, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Tags: sf_fantasy
ISBN: 0-441-57457-2
Publisher: Ace Books
Published: 1991-03-25T16:00:00+00:00

Later, around one in the morning, still awake, in the dark, staring at the ceiling, she thought about the stunning truth of Peter’s life. And then her mother’s familiar soft rap came at the door.

“I figured you’d still be up,” she said, coming into the room.

Alex rolled over, struck a match, and lit the candle again. She patted the side of her bed for Mom to sit down. Her mother’s hair was pulled back with a brilliant yellow silk-wrapped elastic band. She sat down cross-legged on the bed. Her satiny knees poked out from under bold-striped cotton pajamas. She smelled faintly of L’Air du Temps perfume, which she put on every morning even if she only went across the hall to the little bedroom that Grandpa had transformed for her into an office space. Alex remembered his ten-year-old Chevy truck, full of lumber, parked under the cedar trees, the plate on the front that said I’m Spending My Kids’ Inheritance.

“I want to talk to you about something,” said Mom.

“Sure.” Alex’s heart rose high and achy in her throat.

“I want to offer you my car for the week,” Mom began, “to go out to your father’s. To Earl’s.”

“You’re offering me your car? For a whole week? Why?”

“The weather is beautiful now, and there’s a lake where you could swim. I think it would be good for you. Put back some sparkle.” She ran a cool thumb just under Alex’s eye along the cheekbone. “If the cabin isn’t livable, well, then don’t stay. Or if you get there, and you can’t face being alone, then just come home.”

Alex pulled at the loose threads on her sky blue quilt with the giant tree that always seemed to grow as you drew it up over you. She had always loved this amazing quilt. She loved to lie in the center of her bed, her hands reaching over the covers to stroke the gold-and-green branches. Christmas morning, when she was fourteen, and Mom’s eyes were so shiny with delight, and she knew the quilt had been much too expensive, she had said softly, “Cool,” and felt guilty, but it had been on her bed ever since.

“Alex,” Mom said, “when I fell in love with your father, I never thought about how my life might turn out. I was nineteen years old. I was just a baby. How could I know anything? But I’ve been lucky in my life. And you’re lucky, too. Take your courage into your hands, and don’t turn away this gift.”

After she left, Alex flicked out the candle. Outside her window, the city night hummed restlessly along. Here, in the darkness of her own room, with her eyes closed tight, her hands stroked the cool raised edges of cotton tree limbs.

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