Words of Stone by Kevin Henkes Read Free Book Online

someone said.
    Blaze turned with a start. It was Claire. She wrapped her towel around herself and sat down.
    â€œWhere’s my dad?” Blaze asked, trying to cross his legs in a manner that would hide the scars on his ankles.
    â€œOver there,” Claire said, pointing.
    Blaze watched Glenn with a combination of pride and envy. Glenn sliced through the water, his arms cutting perfect angles, his head turning rhythmically.
    â€œHe’s good,” Blaze said. “At swimming. You are, too,” he added.
    â€œI didn’t know how to swim until I went to college,” Claire said. “I could hardly float before that.”
    â€œReally?”
    Claire nodded and narrowed her lips. “It was one of those things I always wanted to do, and always put off. I still want to learn how to play the piano and speak French.” She paused. “Is there anything you really want to learn how to do?”
    Blaze was paralyzed by the question. There were so many things he wanted to be able to do. But they would seem so simple to anyone else: Go to sleep without the light on. Go out for the basketball team at school. Pet a big dog without shaking. Ride the Ferris wheel alone.
    Sweat dripped down Blaze’s face. He touched one corner of his mouth, then the other, with his tongue. “I’d like to fly,” he managed to say. “I’ve never done it.”
    â€œIn an airplane, or on your own like a bird?” Claire asked, smiling.
    Blaze laughed, relieved a bit. “Like a bird,” he said, relaxing.
    â€œMe, too,” said Claire. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, stretching. She hugged herself. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
    Two children, holding hands, ran past Blaze and Claire, splashing them.
    â€œYou know, that jump you did out there was good,” Claire said, her eyes following the children down the sand.
    â€œReally?” Blaze thought it had been terribly clumsy, not to mention all his coughing.
    â€œGood jump,” Claire said. She ran her fingers through her hair. “Good jump,” she repeated, her face slanted upward as though she were talking to the sun.
    They stayed on the beach, side by side, silently. Without realizing it, Blaze had untucked his legs and begun rubbing his ankles. The blister-smooth skin was vivid in the sun, the rippled areas emphasized like tiny raised cursive writing. Suddenly, Blaze noticed that Claire had been watching him; he saw her looking at his ankles. When their eyes met, Claire didn’t turn away; she just smiled naturally.
    And then, for some reason, Blaze told her about the fire.
    How he had been waiting in line to ride the Ferris wheel on the Fourth of July after Reena died. How there had been a short circuit. How the electrical wires that lay at his feet sizzled and jumped like snakes on fire. He told her about the awful smell in the ambulance. Even about the paramedic who tried to comfort him by telling him that both his father and mother could ride with him to the hospital. And how—during a confusing minute—he asked for Reena, even though she was dead.
    When Blaze finished he felt numb and weightless. He thought he might rise off the beach and drift above the lake like fog, the way he did in his father’s paintings.

9 BLAZE
    â€œW ell, what do you think?” Glenn asked. They were driving home after dropping Claire off at her apartment.
    Blaze shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “What do you think?”
    â€œI like her,” Glenn answered, lightly tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. “I like her a lot.” Glenn looked sideways at Blaze. “Is that okay with you? I’d like it to be.”
    â€œI guess,” Blaze replied. “She’s pretty.”
    â€œShe is, isn’t she?” Glenn said, smiling. “And smart and artistic and nice . . .”
    â€œAre you going to marry her?”
    Glenn let out a quick