The time traveler's wife by Audrey Niffenegger Read Free Book Online Page A

other."
    "Well, they have to eat each other; they
can't go to Dairy Queen and get a large vanilla cone with sprinkles, can
they?" This is Clare's favorite thing to eat in the whole wide world (as a
child. As an adult Clare's favorite food is sushi, particularly sushi from
Katsu on Peterson Avenue).
    "They could eat grass."
    "So could we, but we don't. We eat
hamburgers."
    Clare sits down at the edge of the clearing.
"Etta says I shouldn't talk to strangers."
    "That's good advice."
    Silence.
    "When are you going to disappear?"
    "When I'm good and ready to. Are you bored
with me?" Clare rolls her eyes. "What are you working on?"
    "Penmanship."
    "May I see?"
    Clare gets up carefully and collects a few
pieces of stationery while fixing me with her baleful stare. I lean forward
slowly and extend my hand as though she is a Rottweiler, and she quickly shoves
the papers at me and retreats. I look at them intently, as though she has just
handed me a bunch of Bruce Rogers' original drawings for Centaur or the Book of
Kells or something. She has printed, over and over, large and larger,
"Clare Anne Abshire." All the ascenders and descenders have swirling
curlicues and all the counters have smiley faces in them. It's quite beautiful.
    "This is lovely."
    Clare is pleased, as always when she receives
homage for her work. "I could make one for you."
    "I would like that. But I'm not allowed to
take anything with me when I time travel, so maybe you could keep it for me and
I could just enjoy it while I'm here."
    "Why can't you take anything?"
    "Well, think about it. If we time
travelers started to move things around in time, pretty soon the world would be
a big mess. Let's say I brought some money with me into the past. I could look
up all the winning lottery numbers and football teams and make a ton of money.
That doesn't seem very fair, does it? Or if I was really dishonest, I could
steal things and bring them to the future where nobody could find me."
    "You could be a pirate!" Clare seems
so pleased with the idea of me as a pirate that she forgets that I am Stranger
Danger. "You could bury the money and make a treasure map and dig it up in
the future." This is in fact more or less how Clare and I fund our
rock-and-roll lifestyle. As an adult Clare finds this mildly immoral, although
it does give us an edge in the stock market.
    "That's a great idea. But what I really
need isn't money, it's clothing."
    Clare looks at me doubtfully.
    "Does your dad have any clothes he doesn't
need? Even a pair of pants would be great. I mean, I like this towel, don't get
me wrong, it's just that where I come from, I usually like to wear pants."
Philip Abshire is a tad shorter than me and about thirty pounds heavier. His
pants are comical but comfortable on me.
    "I don't know   "
    "That's okay, you don't need to get them
right now. But if you bring some next time I come, it would be very nice."
"Next time?"
    I find an unused piece of stationery and a
pencil. I print in block letters: Thursday, September 29,1977 After supper. I
hand Clare the paper, and she receives it cautiously. My vision is blurring. I
can hear Etta calling Clare. "It's a secret, Clare, okay?"
    "Why?"
    "Can't tell. I have to go, now. It was
nice to meet you. Don't take any wooden nickels." I hold out my hand and
Clare takes it, bravely. As we shake hands, I disappear.
     
    Wednesday, February 9, 2000 (Clare is 28, Henry
is 36) Clare: It's early, about six in the morning and I'm sleeping the thin
dreamy sleep of six in the morning when Henry slams me awake and I realize he's
been elsewhen. He materializes practically on top of me and I yell, and we
scare the shit out of each other and then he starts laughing and rolls over and
I roll over and look at him and realize that his mouth is bleeding profusely. I
jump up to get a washcloth and Henry is still smiling when I get back and start
daubing at his lip.
    "How'd that happen?"
    "You threw a shoe at