600 Miles to Leadville

THE FIRST TIME he sees her, she is plummeting to the ground, a stream of chiffon and chantilly lace. His heart leaps into his throat as he jumps from his seat gasping, arms outstretched, ready to catch her fall. The leather harnesses and ropes yank her back up and out of his reach, ricocheting like a bungy cord, depositing her high atop the wooden scaffolding. There she rests perfectly still, a shimmering blue heron overlooking a mirror lake, letting out the barest of breath while the audience, aghast, recovers theirs. The act is death-defying, mesmerizing, a tour de force. But for Eduardo, it is another matter altogether, something unimaginable. While risking life and limb, she looked at him, truly looked at him. And, she did not avert her gaze.  Now, back again, Eduardo takes his seat in the front row along the edge of the rotunda in the Grand Chapiteau.  The excitement is palpable.  The air hot and electric.  Dreamy oboe arpeggios snake and coil through the audie...

THE MANGROVE  is full of monsters. I have seen them. Once, Honor’s cousin Teale dared us to climb to the top of the nursery tree. Three-quarters of the way up, he slipped and fell into the green water. Teale swam willy-nilly toward a branch and almost made it, except this enormous mouth with ragged teeth got him and pulled him under. Honor screamed, and would not stop until her mother came and took her away. Around us, people whispered the death blessing: “Welcome this soul. May his body nourish you and his mind add to your wisdom. Amen.” That scared me. His mind added to their wisdom? Did that mean the monsters — we called them three-eyes on account of the lump on their foreheads that looks like a third eye — now knew everything Teale knew? That evening I had a nightmare about a Three-Eye that looked like Teale and called out my name. “Little twerp,” Honor said the next day. “Teale was stupid, Eezel. He was going too fast, and he went out onto that thin branch.” “But it wasn’t his...

WE WAITED  until everyone was asleep; then, we drove all night to Chicago. My mom wouldn’t know her van had disappeared until she woke at seven to get my sis ready for summer school. That first day, I worried about Sis making it to class on time, but Jenny said, “The world will go on without us.” I figured she was right. I would’ve liked to have kept going. Arizona, I guess. Maybe California. But we didn’t have the money for gas, and I figured it was best to let Jenny do the planning. She was the reason we went. I thought making the decisions might brighten her up. I never would have thought to go without her, but it’s true I didn’t like it when my mom said, “You’re spending too much time with Jenny,” or “I don’t like the way you look at her.” Sometimes my mom said nothing. When she looked at me, I got the feeling that, at fifteen, I was getting a little too big for her house. The first few days, Jenny and I stayed close to the van. Moved it from spot to spot. When we were out, we ...