Page 108 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

You said you would.

Hollis shook their head and changed direction. The woods around their town was different depending on what side you went to. The trees were big and close together by the abandoned houses. They formed a canopy above your head that got so dark it almost looked like nighttime during the day. The forest by the train tracks was the exact opposite. The trees were thinner, lighter, the sun filtered through the leaves, bathing the wood in a calm green light. People hiked around here. No one hiked at the other side of town.

How long did you do this before we met?

Five years. I’m not the only one in my family who did. My mom’s brother did it too.

Did he teach you or something? I should kick his ass.

Hollis laughed.

No, no. My ma just told us about it. He’s dead now, so I guess you’ll get your chance at that sometime. She told us about it, and then when I had a hard day, I got desperate enough to want to figure out if it would help.

You must have been twelve, maybe thirteen. You were just a little kid. . . .

Hollis shrugged one shoulder. Walt had their other arm, and he was using it to trail their fingers across the plants and pull leaves off every so often.

They sat down on the embankment by the tracks; Walt tucked Hollis’s shoulder bag beneath them so they wouldn’t get wet.

There should be a fence here. People shouldn’t be allowed to get this close.

There should be a lot of things that we don’t have in this town.

Radiant

It took an hour, but it came. On time, as expected.

Walt let Hollis pull them up from the ground, knees creaking from the cold. Let him walk them down to the embankment, where the dead leaves had gathered in damp fragrant piles next to the steel and the mud squelched beneath their boots.

He pulled himself deep inside to give Hollis control of their arms, their legs, their back, the nervousness in their gut, because Hollis knew this trick. Hollis knew how to react.

He’d keep them safe.

Walt startled at the sound of the whistle.

Hollis brushed two fingers against their palm.

Shh.

Time is relative. It slows and speeds when it wants to. It took a week of waiting as the ground shook and the sweat took a year to drip down the back of their neck.

Come on.

Their bones rattled. Bones Walt loved so dearly, and their teeth hurt more than when they’d been torn apart.

It’s called the Venturi effect. As the air velocity goes up, the static pressure goes down, it pushes things in its vicinity toward the reduced pressure. If you don’t stand far enough away, it will pull you in. That’s why people keep dying.

Hollis spread his legs, kicked one back for stability, and closed their eyes.

The train screamed like a thousand horses and snatched the breath from their lungs. The gaps between cars flashed sunlight like strobe on the backs of their eyelids as they stood.

Walt cried out in terror.

Hollis laughed at the joy of it.

Winning against terrible pressure and the hand of fate. Laughed that he was loved so sweetly by a God that chose him to live, again and again. That the muscles in his legs were strong and his balance was true, and that for once he was being witnessed at the very pinnacle of himself:

A boy versus the relentless march of gravity.