Seventh Heaven Read Free Page B

own front lawns.
    I T WAS SO HOT YOU HAD TO KEEP YOUR EYE ON the road because all along the Southern State the asphalt had buckled and snapped apart. Lately the heat had been fueled by a wind from the west that tore up the last of the brown, matted grass on either side of the parkway. Nora Silk was trying to keep up with the moving van, but every time she stepped down hard on the gas and hit sixty-five miles an hour the Volkswagen shimmied for no reason at all. Nora had to hold tight to the steering wheel whenever the tires edged into the fast lane. She looked past the heat waves and concentrated on driving until she heard the pop of the cigarette lighter.
    â€œPut that down this minute,” she told Billy.
    He was eight and he couldn’t keep his hands off the lighter. Eventually, Nora knew, he’d drop it and the carpet would catch fire and then they’d have to pull off the road. As soon as they did the baby would fall off the backseat and wake up, and Nora would have to climb over, comfort him, and start to search for a clean diaper and his favorite teddy bear.
    â€œThis instant,” Nora said. “And hand me a Salem.”
    Billy took the new pack of cigarettes out of the glove compartment and pulled off the cellophane. “Just let me light it,” he said.
    â€œNot on your life,” Nora said.
    â€œJust this one time,” Billy pleaded.
    He was a real bulldog about some things. You had to shake him off or, if you didn’t have the energy, if the weather was broiling and your mascara was melting and the asphalt was cracking into bits, give in to him.
    â€œThis one time,” Nora said darkly.
    Billy quickly pushed the lighter in and dangled the cigarette between his lips. Nora looked in the rearview mirror to make sure James hadn’t fallen off the backseat. He was covered with a cotton baby blanket and he looked as cozy as bread. Nora fluffed up her bangs, then noticed that Billy was inhaling.
    â€œHand it over,” she said.
    Billy held the cigarette high in the air. He was a thin child, blond with satiny blond skin, but when he wore his awful taunting look, complete strangers had to fight off the urge to smack him.
    â€œNow,” Nora said.
    She took the cigarette away from Billy and inhaled. Her hands always shook when she yelled at him, and the charms on her gold bracelet jangled. “And close your window,” she added. “Do you want Mr. Popper to jump out and get caught under someone’s tires?”
    The black cat, who was so lazy he rarely bothered to blink, was curled up on the floor, his head resting on one of Billy’s sneakers. The cat wasn’t about to make an escape, but Billy felt sick to his stomach, so for once he did as he was told. Nora stole a look at him when she realized he had actually minded her, then she turned back to the road, inhaled, and let out a stream of smoke. She knew that Billy felt like crying—well, maybe she did, too. She had a boy who liked to play with fire, a baby who hadn’t the slightest notion of what a father was, and a cat who liked to run his claws up her leg as soon as she put on a new pair of nylons. She didn’t have to look at Billy to know what he was doing.
    â€œAnd stop pulling on your hair,” Nora said.
    Ever since Roger had moved out, Billy had taken up the habit of twirling his hair so hard he’d pulled out patches and you could see his scalp showing through all along the right side of his head.
    â€œYou’re going to love the house,” Nora said. “You’ll have your own room.”
    â€œI’ll hate it,” Billy said in a singsong voice that made Nora want to throttle him.
    Nora stepped down harder on the gas; the car vibrated and a high-pitched whine came from the engine. She’d known they had to get out of their apartment when she found the baby at the window, calmly eating paint chips off the sill. She started looking just after Roger had left and