The man lit a cigarette. “You waited all morning to buy Engelbert Humperdinck?”
“I have to have it.”
“One dollar.”
I paid him and left the store. It was Saturday and the downtown streets were quiet. The sun blazed on the sidewalk, bleaching color from everything it touched.
I sat on the bookstore stoop and unwrapped the box. Inside was a toy tiger. Catso. And half of the strip of photos Jonah and I took of ourselves in Ocean City. Two shots, including the last picture, the shot of Jonah without his mask.
I kept two and gave you two, his note said. You are the only person IN THE UNIVERSE who has a recognizable picture of me now. I expect you to take that responsibility seriously AND NOT ABUSE IT. You know what I mean. Do not give or show this picture to anyone. It is for you alone. If you use this photo to track me down I will never speak to you again.
I laughed. What difference would that make? He wasn’t speaking to me as it was.
I will curse you and you’ll be doomed to walk the earth alone, like me. I sent this picture to you, because you are the only person I want to remember me. I’ll keep the other half, so I can remember you. I don’t need a picture, though. I’ll never forget you, Bea.
I’m sorry if I hurt you. It just had to be this way. I can’t explain it.
Take good care of Catso. He’s yours now. I’ve got the Evil Miss Frankenheimer with me. Perhaps one day they will sword-fight again. But don’t look for me, Bea. I’d only drag you down.
J
OCTOBER
CHAPTER 29
I’m in Poughkeepsie now, in my first semester at Vassar. It’s October. When I got here, I checked with SVA to see if a Jonah Tate had registered. I even checked under Matthew Tate, and Casper.
He wasn’t there. I was foolish to think he would be.
I miss the Night Lights. All summer long I listened to the show, every single minute of it, curled up with Catso, hoping Jonah would call in again. Maybe he’d disguise his voice. Sometimes, in the first few seconds of a strange call, my pulse would race…but I’d soon realize it was only Don Berman.
I never called in again. As long as Ghost Boy was gone, so was Robot Girl.
My parents are having a second wedding at Christmastime, renewing their vows. Fast work, Dr. Huang. The date is on the opposite end of the calendar from their original wedding day in June. Mom thinks that means their marriage will now be the opposite of before, in a good way. After their second honeymoon, Dad will move back in. I hope Mom doesn’t go all kablooey again. But it’s their marriage, their lives. They can screw them up if they want to, I guess.
Walt goes to Drew, in New Jersey, and sometimes on weekends we meet in the city to prowl the East Village. He’s a funny guy. Persistent. Dogged and puppyish, qualities I’m learning to appreciate. He’s gradually wearing down my resistance. I keep wishing, reflexively, for a glimpse of the future, so I’ll know what to do. But I don’t kid myself. I have to feel my way forward blindly. I try not to be afraid. Even if you know what’s coming, you’re never prepared for how it feels.
I still look for Jonah everywhere.
Sometimes, I think I see him walking down the street. Or I see a car that looks like Gertie. But it’s never him. Then I wonder, Could he look different? Completely different, plastic surgery different? I wouldn’t put it past him. A guy who went to so much trouble to wipe his image off the face of the earth is capable of anything.
That means, almost anyone could be him. The receptionist at the dentist’s office. The guy selling Slurpees at the 7-Eleven. The weatherman on the local news. The boy who mows the lawn. The bachelor who moved in next door to my father. The girl in my dorm who says she’s from Indiana.
Anybody.
He’s probably nowhere near here. Not in New York, not in Baltimore. He’s miles away, in Paris, LA, Tokyo, Berlin…
Maybe he’s in Iceland, having his hair cut by the happiest person in the world. Hoping to figure out her secret.
I have to stop looking for him. He doesn’t want to be found.
Someday, I tell myself, the memories will fade away. Catso will just be a toy. A lock of white hair won’t make me jump. I’ll stare at the picture of the boy in the Casper mask, struggling to remember why I loved him.
That’s how I imagine it, anyway.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am indebted to many people for their help with this book: First, to my editor, David Levithan, the Maxwell Perkins of Young Adult publishing, as well as the calm center of its frenzied social whirl and one of its finest writers. To my smart, tireless, and beloved agent, Sarah Burnes, who has revived my flagging spirits countless times and is fun to celebrate with too. Also to her associate, Courtney Gatewood, whose early enthusiasm was much appreciated.
To my first readers, Elizabeth Mitchell, Rene Steinke, and Gregory Wilson, for their insight, attention, and tact. To Eric Crawford, M.D., and Willard Standiford, M.D., for advice and information about medicine, hospitals, hospices, and other aspects of care for disabled children. To my old friends Cameron Griffith and Chip Crosby for shining a little light into a shadowy corner of our shared past.
To John Standiford for introducing me to much-mourned Will Taylor’s legendary radio program, Over Fifty Overnight, and to Ron Rosenbaum and Jennifer Hunt for leading me to my current late-night addiction, Coast to Coast AM. And, for their support in innumerable large and small ways, thanks to: Elise Broach, Bennett Madison, Betty Standiford, Jim Standiford, Kathleen Standiford, Will Standiford (he deserves double billing), Greg Wilson (so does he), Darcey Steinke, and Karen Yasinsky.
Copyright
Copyright © 2009 by Natalie Standiford
Jacket art and design © 2009 Phil Falco
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
First edition, October 2009
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
E-ISBN: 978-0-545-23169-5
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
August
Chapter 1
September
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
October
Chapter 8
November
Chapter 9
December
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
January
Chapter 15
February/March
Chapter 16
April
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
May
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
June
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
br /> Chapter 27
July
Chapter 28
October
Chapter 29
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Natalie Standiford, How to Say Goodbye in Robot
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