Vision by Lisa Amowitz Read Free Book Online Page A

bright eyes seemed to pierce the rind of Bobby’s skin, to the blood running in his veins. “I know what you’re going to say, Bobby. I’m well aware of the situation in your home. I’m there every week. But I know you, too. I know that music is your life.” The teacher spoke with such fervor, such conviction, it only made Bobby feel even worse about his lies of omission. “It’s what pumps through your bloodstream. If you believe in your dreams, things will have a way of working themselves out.”
    Bobby stood to leave. It was hopeless. And it was all going to end badly, with Mr. Cooper resenting the time he’d wasted on him. “I’m going to miss lunch.”
    Mr. Cooper nodded. “I understand, Bobby. A growing boy’s got to eat. But you have to believe me—there is a path out of Graxton, if you’ll just work with me.”
    “Sure, Mr. Cooper.” Bobby smiled tightly. Mr. Cooper was getting frustrated, that was clear.
    Bobby headed for the door, then paused, swiveling toward the arrangement of photographs on the bookshelf. Something there had captured his attention and tugged at his cranium, as though a magnetic force was pulling him towards its source. The floor tilted beneath him. Savage pain ripped into the back of his head as a wave of nausea bubbled in his stomach. Smears of red streaked his vision.
    Shit. Not this again .
    “What’s wrong, Bobby?” he heard Mr. Cooper say from very far away. The room was contracting like a tunnel, his vision blinking out.
    Crashing through trees. Out of breath. Can’t go on. Oh, no .
    Reeling, Bobby slumped to the floor, his legs giving out. He lay there, curled up on his side, dazed with pain.
    “Bobby!” Mr. Cooper shouted.
    Bobby squeezed his eyes closed, pretending to be passed out. Keeping his body limp and slack, he heard Mr. Cooper call school security.

    They lowered him onto a soft surface in what he figured was the nurse’s office. Someone with slim, cool hands poked, prodded, and lifted his eyelids. He listened while they discussed him.
    Allowing his eyes to open to slits, it was as he feared—nothing but deep, vacant red. This time, though, superimposed faintly on the darkness was a vague afterimage—a blurred loop of someone crashing through the woods, running frantically. His ribs ached like it was him running, his veins throbbing with someone else’s adrenaline.
    What the hell is wrong with me?
    Maybe he was just nuts. He willed himself to see again, but no go. The pain bore down on him with more intensity. He lay still, afraid the slightest movement would cause his head to split open like an overripe tomato.
    “What happened?” asked the voice Bobby recognized as the school nurse.
    “He was fine one minute,” said Mr. Cooper, “and then he was on the floor.”
    “Strange,” the nurse said. “His pulse is normal. His blood pressure is normal. I suppose we can have him brought to a hospital. You’re a friend of the family—what do you suggest, Kenny?”
    “I’ll call his father and see what he wants me to do.”
    Maybe he should let them take him to the hospital. Maybe there was something medically wrong with him. Bobby groaned so they would think he was just coming to.
    “Can you hear me, Bobby?” asked Mr. Cooper.
    “Yeah,” he whispered, though it hurt to speak.
    “You passed out. Have you been ill lately?”
    He didn’t dare sit up. His surroundings lurched and spun in the red darkness. “No. But I fell and hit my head yesterday.”
    “He may have a concussion,” the nurse said. “You need an X-ray.”
    “No!” Bobby protested. “Just let me lie here a while. I’ll be fine.”

    In the end, after letting Bobby rest for fifteen minutes, Mr. Cooper helped him to his car. In the back seat of Mr. Cooper’s Jeep, Bobby stretched out, his body still leaden, his vision pocked with red.
    “I would have taken you to the hospital, Bobby,” Mr. Cooper said.
    “It’s probably just something I ate.”
    “You said you hit your