The City of Your Final Destination by Peter Cameron

Author:Peter Cameron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Published: 2011-03-24T04:00:00+00:00

When they emerged out of the woods into the little orchard they found Pete on a ladder, trying to shroud a tree in netting to save the fruit from the birds.

“Hello,” he called to them.

They had not talked all the way down, so Pete’s interruption was welcome. They went and stood beneath the tree he was netting. “Do you need help?” Omar asked.

“Yes, thanks,” said Pete. “It might be easier with two.”

“I’ll leave you, then,” said Arden. She walked back toward the house.

Pete climbed down the ladder. “Where have you been?” he asked Omar.

“We went up to see the gondola,” said Omar.

“Did you like it?” asked Pete.

It seemed an odd question: it was not something you liked or disliked. “I am glad to have seen it,” said Omar.

“Come,” said Pete. “I will show you the hive.”

It stood in the long grass at the edge of the field of fruit trees. It was made of wood and looked like a dresser. Slender vertical drawers could be pulled from it. Pete pulled out one containing a honeycomb thronged with swarming bees. The bees crawled onto his hand, covered it, like a buzzing glove. He held it out toward Omar but Omar shrieked and shrank back. Pete laughed. He waved his hand in the air as if he were making slow figures with a torch. The bees drowsily flew from it. He replaced the drawer in the hive, and stood beside Omar. They watched the bees turn about in the air and return to the hive, flying in through the bottom.

Pete reached up and pulled a peach off a tree and handed it to Omar.

“Thank you,” said Omar.

Pete selected one for himself. They were small peaches, bursting ripe, with very thin, pale blushing skins. The flesh was pale, too, and tasted a bit like banana. Perhaps they were something other than peaches. Pete ate his in a few big lunging bites, holding it out in front of him so the juice would drip on the ground. He sucked the flesh from the stone and then threw it toward the woods. He lay down in the long grass on the sun-dappled ground beneath the trees and put his arms behind his head. His T-shirt rode up and exposed a stripe of skin around his middle. He tugged the shirt back toward his pants, but it ascended as soon as he returned his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes. Apparently he meant to nap.

Omar finished his peach and tossed the pit into the tall grass. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do. Stay, or leave Pete. But it was nice to just stand there. In the quiet he could hear the hive humming. He had to urinate. He walked off a ways and peed into the long grass.

He walked back and sat near Pete. After a moment Pete opened his eyes and sat forward. He looked toward the hive, around which a few bees were still hovering. “How old are you?” asked Pete.

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