August and Then Some, page 23
“That’s …” She unfolds it and holds it over her chest. “Thank you. It’s my size.”
“I kind of figured. I don’t think it’ll puff out at the waist, either.”
She folds it again, puts it on her lap and pets it flat with both her palms. “She loved you, JT.”
I nod. And feel Stephanie looking at me when I do. My hand is in the paper bag holding my notebook hard. “What time you got?” I ask.
She checks her watch. “I got time to go.”
“OK.” I decide to loosen my grip. I slip my empty hand out and fold the brown paper over the notebook. We stand up, I grab the handle of Stephanie’s luggage and we walk toward the checkpoint.
I’ve come as far as I can. She takes the suitcase handle from my hand. It’s done except for goodbye.
“JT, would you do something for me?”
“Name it.”
“Don’t ever shave your head again.”
I laugh a little. Then a lot.
“Done,” I tell her.
She smiles something knowing at me. An expression I hope will never fade from her face or my head.
She walks through the metal detectors, gets nodded through by security and doesn’t turn around.
I walk to a window and watch planes line up on the tarmac waiting for their turn. Behind them is fog. On their sides: fog. In front of them there’s more. I drop the wrapped notebook in a garbage can to my left. It hits the rest of the trash without much of a sound. The first plane in line looks like it’s struggling to gain speed, but is moving incredibly fast for something so monumentally big. It finally lifts off the ground, getting small but staying in focus. Waves of heat roll out behind it. It gets fainter the deeper it goes into the fog, but I trust it knows its course.
Throughout the years it took me to write this book, many people gave me their help and encouragement in different ways. You all sustain me. And make me feel so friggin lucky. I’d like to return your favors with the best food I can manage, but that would be a logistical nightmare. So allow me to unpack my heart with words.
THE HOME TEAM:
Sarah Chalfant, for believing my instincts are worthy.
Jin Auh, for always seeming happy when I call. And passionate when we talk.
Mark Richards, for keenly helping to shape and maintain my voice. No insignificant task.
THE READERS:
Alex Lyras, you read and read again. You’re so smart and ballsy that I’d rob a bank with you.
Brian Prager, us being born hours apart was no mistake.
Cathy Day, you’re a great teacher, reader and friend. You have a way of making me forget that so much bullshit exists. (Trust me, that’s a high compliment.)
Floyd Skloot, you read, you encourage, you share fine port, and you’ve donated your sperm to a great cause.
Heather Nolan, a careful reader and strong friend.
Kathy Chetkovich, #2, you’re so damn insightful, cute, and kind, that someone should name an ice cream flavor after you.
Shannon Kemly Riccio, you’re a great reader and friend. It’s a joy to have made it past intermission with you.
Alane Mason and Denise Scarfi for invaluable feedback on the early drafts.
THE SPACE-GIVERS:
Betsy and Michael Hurley, you gave me your house where much of this book was written, because you never doubt, and always support, what writers do. I never told you this, but I broke one of your wine glasses. Sorry.
The fine folk of New Martinsville. First Jill (because you’re my favorite. Don’t tell anyone I said that). Then in no particular order: Jeff, Soren, Lou, Joe, Carla, Swen, Jacob, Donna, and Gary. Thanks for all the open doors, borrowed cars, washing machines, showers, ATVs, copperhead slayings, cook-outs, falling trees, falling trees, Wiffle ball games, mowed lawns, mailboxes, hot tubs, garden vegetables, and chainsaws. It wouldn’t have been a real writing retreat without them.
Eileen, Mark, and Joe Roland, your hospitality at the Manasquan Writers’ Colony was invaluable.
THE RESEARCH TEAM:
Alan Gompers, you decided to talk to me before you were sure who I was, and you shared your experiences so freely. I mean, who does that?
Paul Ostensen, Scott Klein, and Deirdre Van Dornem, you all gave great legal counsel.
THE HEAVIES:
Gurumayi Chidvilasananda, the idea for this book came while I was living in your house. I hope to have honored that genesis with this story.
Swami Umeshananda, of the all wise things you’ve said that have made a huge difference to my mind and heart—and there have been many—what you said about my writing remains a classic: “I never tell people what to do, but you have to do this.”
Swami Vasudevananda, you’ve used the words “writing” and “destiny” in the same sentence and have made them utterly believable. You validate my light. Thanks for staying so close. You’re the best kind of brother.
Goose, let me start my gratitude by thanking you for not getting bent when I threw my first manuscript against the wall and scared the dog. And let me finish my gratitude never.
About the Author
David Prete is a writer, actor, director, teacher and native New Yorker. His critically-acclaimed first book, Say That to My Face, was published in 2003. He currently lives in Chicago and attends the MFA Directing program at Northwestern. www.davidprete.com
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Other Books by David Prete
Say That to My Face
Credits
Cover photographs © Cameron Davidson/Corbis (Manhattan skyline);
Transtock/SuperStock (car); David Turnley/Corbis (number plate).
Copyright
First published in Great Britain in 2011 by
Fourth Estate
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
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www.4thestate.co.uk
Visit our authors’ blog: www.fifthestate.co.uk
AUGUST AND THEN SOME. Copyright © David Prete 2011. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
The right of David Prete to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-0-00-718300-5
EPub Edition © JULY 2011 ISBN: 978-0-00-740269-4
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David Prete, August and Then Some
