We All Fall Down Read Free Page B

him from those days?”
    “Not that I can remember.”
    “Your father wasn’t born old, you know.”
    Maybe not old, but at least in his late twenties. I couldn’t picture him as a teenager, doing teenager things.
    “Your father used to be a pretty cool dude back then.”
    “Okay …”
    “And your mother was one hot little—”
    “That’s way too much information!” I said, putting my hands over my ears. “I gotta get going. I’ll be home by nine.”
    “No later. Don’t forget how early your father leaves for work in the morning. And call me if you’re not going to be at James’s. You know how I worry.”
    “I will. See you later.”

CHAPTER
THREE
    It was barely light. I slumped down farther into the front seat of my dad’s car, closing my eyes, trying to get at least a few minutes more sleep. I’d known my father hit the road early—he was usually gone long before I got up—but it was different
knowing
it and
doing
it. This might have been my father’s usual morning, but it wasn’t mine. And to make matters even worse I’d been up really late. After getting home from James’s, I’d stayed up listening to tunes and putting together some lyrics for a song we were working on. I’d even picked up my history book and got a start on the reading assignment. It was after midnight by the time Iturned out the light. Somehow I just couldn’t make myself go to sleep any earlier than that. Now, I was paying the price. My father was full of energy and talking a mile a minute. Maybe he considered this “quality” parenting time. For me, there’d have been a lot more quality to it if he’d just shut up and let me sleep.
    If you combined his early mornings with his late nights, business trips and the occasional work-filled weekend, there were times when it seemed like my father was more a rumor at our house than a confirmed fact. I once joked with James that if my parents ever got divorced, and didn’t tell me about it, it would be weeks or even months before I figured it out. Not that he and my mom would ever get divorced. They still held hands, giggled together and always kissed goodbye and said, “I love you.” At times it was almost a little bit sickening. I felt like yelling out, “You’re married already so can you just knock it off?”
    “Here we are,” my father said as the car came to a stop.
    I opened my eyes and climbed out. The sun was fully above the horizon now and I could see that the parking lot of the train station was almost completely filled. Apparently my father wasn’t the only one who headed to a New York City office this early.
    We climbed up the stairs and onto the platform. I followed my father as he wove his way throughthe crowd. He was easy to pick out because he was half a head taller than almost everybody else. He kept walking until we were at the far end of the platform. Strangely, it was almost deserted there.
    “No crowd,” I said.
    “People all cluster around the entrance and then fight to get seats. Back here is the best place. I never have a problem.”
    “Then why don’t other people come back here?” I asked.
    “Humans are herd animals. We all like huddling together. It makes us feel safe and secure. In fact, one of the best ways to get ahead is to try to move in one direction while everybody else is moving in the other.”
    I looked at my father. “Aren’t we moving in the same direction as everybody else … into the city?”
    “We are, but
we
are going to be
sitting
. Here comes the train now.”
    I looked up the tracks. I could see the engine of the train, trailing behind a bright, bright headlight. It got bigger and bigger and brighter and brighter. I had to avert my eyes. The big engine surged down the tracks, a wave of sound and wind preceding it into the station.
    “Step back a little,” my father said as he put a hand across my chest.
    That was stupid. I wasn’t five years old any more and—a blast of wind blew my hair back as the