their ears. He felt the crash of brick and walls and roof move up from the ground, through his bones, into his jaw. Five years after that he watched another one get smashed by a giant metal ball, but by then neither of his grandparents were alive to watch with him.
Then, the casinos rose up with their horrible red lights that blare through the night sky, their dark insides, their huge, gray slabs of concrete. They teemed with people for a time, but now the people haven’t come, not like before. Now the movie theater has closed, the letters dropped from its marquee. Forgotten playgrounds with rusted merry-go-rounds, swings that hang from one chain. There are fewer visitors, and more litter in the streets. He feels inside of him what it means to have grown up here. Another thing that has seeped into him and made him all wrong on the inside. It’s in his hands, his blood, in his bones.
The next morning he senses the soreness before he opens his eyes. He’s older now and feels things in ways he didn’t use to. The injuries linger, stay in his skin. There have always been the men and the cops like this in his life, people who will use the way his voice is trapped in him against him. People who think it means he’s stupid, that he moves through the world not just deaf and mute, but blind and numb. He goes into work feeling tired, battered, and bruised, his anger glowing in him like a hot coal. Once again he tries to puzzle out where he’s seen the girl before. It chafes at him, but he knows that doesn’t matter. He’ll get it right eventually.
For now he’ll only watch and wait.
CLARA
I TOOK THE BRACELET BECAUSE I could, but also because I wanted to make sure that girl Lily came to see me. I had a feeling about her, something about the way she looked at me, the way what I told her changed her posture, the way she flinched and then relaxed when I leaned close to touch her hand. I could use her. She could be our way in at the spa, if I played things right. She would probably be angry about the bracelet at first, but I was sure I could work on her, get her on our side. That guy she worked with noticed me take it—the janitor. I had seen him in town enough to know there was something off about him, too. Always skulking around on his own. I didn’t usually slip up like that, leave a witness, but I could spot someone with secrets and I figured he’d keep mine.
The next morning, Des clunked down the stairs, and I could tell she was going to see her dealer. She had her shirt tied up above her belly button, knotted at the narrowest part of her waist, and her hair was brushed to a glossy sheen.
“Do we have any readings scheduled for today?” I asked.
“I think you probably already know the answer to that. But hey, take those business cards and hand them out, drum up a bit of publicity. Only don’t do it in Bally’s. I think security has flagged us over there.” Sooner or later I would lose track of all the places we weren’t allowed to go. “Why do you look so sullen? You don’t want to hand out the business cards? Fine by me. Besides, things are looking up for us. I think I’ve lined up your first date.”
I ignored her. I didn’t want to know anything about this date.
“I’ll hand out the cards,” I said, and grabbed the stack from the counter.
Des ruffled my hair. “This color looks so hot on you, babes.”
When she walked away, I felt again for the spiky hair at the base of my skull. I was still confused about the visions, but it felt good to have a secret, a piece of my life that she had no hand in.
I shoved the business cards in my purse but stopped in the arcade before handing them out. I played a round of Skee-Ball, rolling the scarred wooden balls up the ramp, arching them into the targets, stopping to listen to the dumb trill of the music that played when you hit the ten-thousand-point mark. The machine spit out a strip of pale pink tickets, which I carried to the counter in the back. The woman who worked there knew me, though she and