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CHAPTER 3 Boys, Dogs, Science Fiction Debbie and Chrisanne and their neighbor Tesey lay prostrate on their chaise lounges. It was the first really good laying-out day of the season. They had a radio and wet glasses with drinks full of melting ice. Every half hour or so they turned ninety degrees, like chickens roasting on invisible rotisseries. They also adjusted their orientation to the sun as it moved across the sky to allow its ultraviolet rays to be inflicted most directly and effectively. 27
After the third turn Debbie raised the back of her lounge chair so she could sit up, and opened a book she had brought out with her. She was immediately absorbed in reading, and sat motionless while Tesey and Chrisanne continued their quarterturn rotations for a few more spins, then folded up their chairs to go inside. One of them must have said something to her. The remnant of a question hung in the air, and she noticed they had paused, as if waiting. I ll be in in a minute, she said. But then she forgot about going in. She forgot about the sun and how it was scorching the front of her winter-pale thighs and shins, the tops of her shoulders and her nose and the skin where her hair was parted. She stayed there all afternoon and came out again after dinner, this time in shorts and a sweatshirt, to finish the book. The backyard was now in the long evening shadow of the house. As the air cooled, she drew her legs up inside the sweatshirt. After she read the last page, she looked at 28
the picture on the cover again, then tossed the book down onto the grass. Her arms withdrew from her sleeves and joined her legs inside the warm cavern of her sweatshirt. It was a science fiction novel, about a planet in another solar system where all of the Beings have lived calmly and harmoniously for thousands of their years until some people from earth come along and screw it all up in about ten minutes by offering them an apple, which none of them had ever seen. The Beings had been gentle and peaceful. They had lived simply, but were very advanced. For example, they used mental telepathy. Their tunics, constructed somehow without any seams or fasteners, were made of a miracle fabric that kept them comfortable in any weather. The fabric was iridescent or gray, depending on whether or not you felt like telepathing. Everyone s tunic was equal but unique; you got one at birth and it grew right along with you. It had strands from your own DNA equivalent woven into it. 29
The whole planet was nutritionally complete; you could just grab a piece of anything and eat it. The bitten thing would then regenerate. (But they didn t have apples.) What was it about the peaceful planet, Debbie wondered, that while it sounded beautiful and idyllic, also made her feel ornery and restless, made her want to turn up the music, eat burgers, and squirrel away mountains of material possessions while she still could? Maybe that s why the Beings rode their version of pogo sticks everywhere: to bounce out the rebellious urges. She did think, though, that she would almost welcome the part about how the unseen, disembodied governing Wisdom assigned everyone a mate. It happened telepathically. You just knew. Telepathy wasn t working for Debbie so far. She had felt the sudden just knowing, and had tried to casually but silently project her whole inner self or something, but the other parties, the objects of her sudden knowledge, had remained oblivious. 30
She knew that she would have to talk. She should have been able to do it. But she had developed a black hole in her brain. She could be in the middle of a normal conversation with a boy and the instant she thought of him that way as a boy the black hole sucked all her words away. Except for a few stupid ones. The stupid ones stayed in there. She called to her dog, Cupcake, who was sitting in the grass a few feet away. He trotted over, and Debbie scratched him behind the ears and talked to him. It was easy. Cupcake found everything she had to say interesting and important. He wanted to hear more. Her neck-scratching transported him to a state of bliss; he offered her his throat for scratching, then his belly. If boys could be more like dogs, she thought. Or Beings. 31