The Unusual Second Life of Thomas Weaver Episode Two (The Unusual Life Of Thomas Weaver Book 2) (7 page)

There is no guidebook for this. They don't even give you a brochure
.

Half an hour later, Zack appeared from the direction of the track. His Adidas hung over his shoulder, tied together at the laces. His hair was messy and still sweaty. He opened the driver’s door and immediately filled the car with teenage boy funk: the combination of body odor, sweaty clothes, and a splash of the Brut cologne that he always kept in his track bag.

Thomas said nothing. Zack pulled the 8-Track out of the player and switched the AM radio on instead. Barry Manilow’s melodious lyrics explained, in so many words, that Barry wrote lyrics. Zack shook his head, punched a button, and The Eagles’
Take It to the Limit
came on. Zack sang along under his breath, tapping time on the steering wheel.

I can't get over how it feels to see him alive, setting records, just not being gone. I wish I could tell him everything.
He had my back in the lunchroom. Why does he still seem like my older brother, when he’s eighteen and I’m in my fifties? It would be nice to be able to tell him the truth.

I can see it now. "Zack, I gotta tell you something. I’ve already lived through this once, and in a few months, I might kill you in a car wreck. I’m going to try and change that, but I don’t know if it can be changed. I’m really sorry I killed you." And what’s the end game of that conversation? A long, worried talk with Mom, a consultation with some doc up in Portland, and a long stay in a nice, padded room?

Nope. I’m on my own.

Zack drove slowly through their neighborhood, his need for speed quenched for the moment by his own legs. “Thanks for coming, Squirt. It was cool that you were there. Now you can tell Mom all about it.”

“I’m glad I got to see it. You were awesome. It looked like you were ready to pass out when you crossed the finish line.”

Zach chuckled a little. “Just a little showboating for the crowd. I was fine.”

“Really?”

“No, not really, dipshit! That was all I had. I thought I was gonna puke.”

“Glad to know you’re human.”

“Was that Michael Hollister talking to you in the stands? What the hell was that about?”

Thomas shrugged. “I really don’t know. He was asking me why I was out walking in the woods the other day.”

“Good question. Why
were
you out in the woods the other day?” Zack took his eyes off the road for a moment, glanced at Tommy.

“I know this will sound weird, but I saw Michael go out in the woods and I got a weird idea that he was up to something, so I followed him.”

”And?”

“And, nothing,” Thomas lied. “I never even saw him, so I turned around and walked back out. No big deal.”

Zack frowned as he pulled into their driveway. “Look, you’re a big kid. You can make your own decisions about things.” He turned off the Camaro’s engine, but made no move to open the door. “But Michael’s a weirdo. I’ve always thought he was a harmless weirdo, but still…”

Concern for me. That's something I have so missed, so long
. Thomas turned to face Zack. “No worries, big brother. No more walks in the woods for me.”

Thomas and Zack got out of the car and pushed open the gate to their front yard. Thomas let Zack go in the house first, the conquering hero. Anne was still wearing her nurse’s uniform. She jumped up, opened her arms wide to Zack, and said, “Well?”

Zack smiled, nodded, and let her envelope him in a hug that ended with her holding him out at arm’s length and saying, “Okay, mister. Straight to the shower with you.” She turned to Thomas. “Tommy, honey, bring Amy inside.”

Thomas stuck his head out the front door. “Amy! Amiable! Come here girl! Amy!"

No dog.

"Amy?” He peered around their front yard—fenced and none too big—but she was nowhere in sight.

Down the block, Thomas heard an engine start. A deep blue Karmann Ghia pulled away from the curb and moved slowly down the street, trailing a cloud of smoke.

“Amy?”