this warmth come radiating out of it, like there�s a miniature sun somewhere under your skin.�
I said this very quickly, almost hoping he wouldn�t notice, and slid on my hands farther back in the
seat. The van was too hot and too quiet. Everyone else was asleep.
He put his flat hand on his shoulder all itchy with salt and brown as horses, feeling the sun. He
smiled. Brushed his stomach lightly, the way you�d pat the lions at Grauman�s, to make sure they
were still there.
The sand we�d shook off ground into the carpeting to stay there forever. It was a California van,
intended for hot stifled nightrides and joy early morning beaches, and Carl turned around in his seat
to show everyone his white teeth.
�Anyone want to play a game?�
�Jesus, Carl, look at the road!�
Silent Dylan was dead out, it was me and Kenny Stravos, Sarah forever blond in the front seat
sleeping. I wanted her to turn around then. She had a way of keeping Carl away from going too far.
But we said sure and his teeth flashed again. Carl was always so wacked and happy.
We pulled over to play the game, all of us excited by this field and Sarah, Dylan still sleeping. It
was a dumb game, but it kept us laughing and falling over each other in the grass, so inexplicably
beautiful and slightly dry, like hay. I put my head on Kenny�s stomach and we talked about Sarah and
her mother, I think. How they looked alike.
And even though Carl kept making dumb jokes and Kenny laughed like he had a lungful of smoke
(air hissing through his lips and his pained face like he didn�t want to waste it) they just made me so
happy to be lying in the grass that day.
We went to his house, Kenny and me, sat on the couch on his roof real quiet. The sun was way
past down and it was so powerful-feeling to see all the houses in town all laid out and to be so warm
above them. When I went home I ate oatmeal in the dark of the kitchen and thought about nothing.