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“Well,Iknow who lives there.”
“Do you?”
“Yeah, that has to be the home of Wheelbarrow Dude.”
Sure enough, there are at least five wheelbarrows in various states of disrepair in the neglected grass.
“Of course, Wheelbarrow Dude,” Ryan says.
This is how it starts. Soon they’re looking into the lives of The Clothesline Fanatic, Gnome Addict, The Bicycle Thief, Hump Grump, The Fire-Pit God, and The Indifferent Ruler of Disowned Toys. When the houses grow less interesting, Avery lifts his head and sees The Bird Castle floating white and semipuffy in the sky above them. Ryan isn’t sure—he thinks it might be the home to The Angular Boatman.
It’s an enjoyable stroll through words, but it’s not, Ryan feels, conversation. He’s grateful when the river steps into the woods, broadening to a shallow inlet.
“Stop padding for a second,” he tells Avery. He steersthem to a place where the water settles into a murmur so they can settle, too.
“Here,” Ryan says. “A drifting spot.”
Ryan puts his paddle in the bottom of the boat, and Avery turns and follows suit. Now they’re facing each other. Avery feels very sweaty and very satisfied. He smiles at the blue-haired boy looking at him so openly.
“Hi,” Ryan says.
“Hi,” Avery says back.
“I would’ve brought fishing gear, but it’s just so mean to the fish.”
Avery leans over a little, spreads his fingers in the water. It feels good to create a current, however small. The air is light and the water is quiet, the trees bending from the shore to listen to the tiny waves. The boat rocks gently.
“So what’s your story?” Ryan asks.
Avery looks up at him, hand still in the water. “My story?”
“Yeah. Everybody has at least one.”
For a few uncomfortable seconds, Avery worries that Ryan thinks he’s a mutant, thinks he’s a faker and wants him to come clean. But then Avery realizes from Ryan’s expression that, no, it isn’t about that. Ryan is trying to craft a conversation, and wants it to be a meaningful one. Because what’s more meaningful than listening to a person’s story?
“I can start if you want me to,” Ryan volunteers.
“Sure,” Avery says. “You start.” Because it’s a little safer that way. Avery doesn’t know how he can tell a story withouttellingthestory, and he wants to be sure Ryan was really looking for something that big when he asked his question.
“Okay,” Ryan says. “Here goes.” He takes in an endearingly nervous breath, then dives in.
“I guess it all starts here in Kindling—although God knows I hope it doesn’t end here. All my family is from here, and with the big exception of my biological father, none of them have ever left.”
Now Ryan stops. Is this really the story he wants to tell? Does he really want to show so much of himself so soon?
He looks at Avery, who isn’t going to rush him, who is okay just floating along.
He keeps going.
“I don’t talk about this stuff a lot, because there aren’t many people to talk about it with. Most of my friends grew up here, too, so it’s not a story I have to tell them, because they were around. And because I don’t really think about it a lot, they don’t, either. Does that make sense?”
“Totally,” Avery says.
“Okay. So…Dad 1.0 left when I was three, so I don’t really remember much about him. I just know he was a jerk to pretty much everyone. When I got old enough, Aunt Caitlin told me I was the best thing that ever happened to my mom, Dad 1.0 leaving was the second-best thing that ever happened to my mom, and Dad 2.0 coming into the picture was the third-best thing that ever happened to my mom. Dad 2.0 is Don, who sort of swept in and made things better, by all accounts. I honestly don’t think of him as Don,or even Dad 2.0. He’s just Dad. And like with all parents, I didn’t really get to choose him. He’s not bad, but he and my mom are both pretty rigid. They sync up that way. So I’m kinda the odd guy out. Pun not intended, but there it is. Is this at all interesting to you?”
“Of course it is.”
Ryan realizes he’s been picking at his cuticles as he’s been talking, and tries to stop. “So yeah. That’s the background. I grew up here, and I get into fights sometimes with my parents. Caitlin saves my life on a daily basis. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. She saves my life on a weekly basis. She totally called it on me being gay. My mother was too lost in herself to notice, and Dad didn’t want to see it, so he ignored it. Caitlin waited for me to catch up to her. I had other things to think about at first—mostly just trying to fit in, you know. Little League, that kind of thing. But eventually I noticed who I was staring at, and it wasn’t the girls. I’ll be honest—it freaked me out. I tried to like girls instead. I really did.”
