Six Earlier Days Read Free Page A

you get from knowing that, somewhere, there is someone who is yours. Not in the sense that you own her, or control her. She is yours because you can say anything to her, whenever you need to. And she can do the same, whenever she needs to. Most of the time this isn’t necessary. But the secret smile comes from knowing it’s available, even when she’s half a world away.
    I will not lie: There are times I’ve thought of doing this for myself—meeting someone online, taking a virtual opportunity and making it as real as it can ever be. But it wouldn’t be the same. The architecture of all of these words is based on a foundation: the promise that Holly and Natasha will someday see each other again. And that is a promise I will never be able to make someone else. Or I can only make it as a lie. And the simple lie would complicate everything else.
        N: It’s time to go home now. I don’t know why I bother. Neither of them will be there.
        H: No other place for you to go?
        N: I’ve learned my lesson. I’m only passing through. I’m tired of the hello-goodbye.
    I’m between classes now, on my way to English. There is no way Holly can understand Natasha’s words as much as I can.
        H: Your life is your life. You can’t live it in compartments. Each place you’re in has a door open at either end.
        N: But I’m here for such a short time.
        H: If a day can be long, six months can’t be short.
        I want to convince her even if I’m not entirely convinced myself.
        N: Is that the truth?
        H: I’m sending it to you in the clouds.
    Some days I’m only passing through. Some days are all hello; some days are all goodbye. Some days I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing, and other days it’s abundantly clear, as if the person I am for a day has left me a note, left me instructions. Today I am meant to maintain the golden tether between two people. It doesn’t take much strength to hold on to my end. It’s good to hold on to something, to feel the pull of another person on the other end, to feel the attachment before I must let go and pass the golden tether back into the person who should really be here instead of me.

Day 5909
    Hamilton Keyes wakes up at 4:44 in the morning. At first I don’t believe it when I see the clock—the alarm is definitely going off, which means he must have set it this way. The question I have is why.
    As soon as I get a feel for the body I’m in, I have my answer.
    Hamilton Keyes wakes up at 4:44 every morning in order to work out before school. This is his routine.
    A strong body is unlike a regular body. Your movements become more precise, and your mind is more attuned to the body. The mind lets you know the force with which the body makes its way through the world. And the mind will also let you know when you are letting the body down.
    I don’t feel I have a choice. Even though part of the body desperately wants more sleep, another part is awake, ready to go. It wants to be worked.
    There’s a weight room in the basement. I quietly make my way down, accessing to discover the particulars of Hamilton’s routine. I’ve learned the hard way that just because a body is strong, it doesn’t mean that it can do anything. I warm up, stretch out, feel the muscles waken.
    The worst thing for me about exercise is the boredom. I need to concentrate on what I’m doing, make sure I don’t slip up and catch the body off guard. Were Hamilton here, there would be a satisfaction alongside his exertion, a progression that he could chart and take meaning from. But for me it’s like driving a car and trying to get something other than a secondhand satisfaction from the speed.
    I lift weights. I run in place. I sweat and towel myself off. Upstairs, I can hear footsteps, voices. But everyone leaves Hamilton alone here. This is his domain. These are his body’s hours.
    I am tired for the rest of the day. My movements may be forceful