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Prologue

From as far back as I can remember I’d lie in bed at night
and wonder what my next life would be like. I’d dream
up a brand new colour for my hair and a fancy new way
to style it. I’d dream up being tall or short, thin or fat, depending
upon how I was feeling at the time. I’d be the one
in charge, the one who got to do the choosing. I’d stroll
along, point my finger, and say, “I’ll take one of those,
please and thank you.” Like a big old store where they’d
dole you out anything you could possibly want—that’s
how I’d get to choose my life.

One thing I’d always make sure to dream up for myself
was a set of good strong eyes. I wasn’t about to start out
with that against me again. I wouldn’t even be picky on
the colour so long as they matched. If you’re too fussy for
your own good, chances are you’ll end up with nothing. I
knew as long as I could see the Milky Way and the face of
the man on the moon I’d be happy.

Once I had all the physical details straightened away in
my head—like height, weight, hair colour, and so on—
I’d go to work on the rest of my life. I’d dream up a nice
fine place to live; some fancy house with indoor plumbing
and the works, window boxes for growing flowers
in, maybe even wooden shutters. Then to prove I wasn’t
being selfish and wanting all the best for myself, some
nights I’d dream up your run-of-the-mill house, my very
own mother and father standing in the doorway waiting
for me to come home, each of them wearing a big old
smile on their face just for me. It wouldn’t take a whole
lot to make me happy. I’d be willing to compromise on
most of the details, so long as there was someone at home
who really cared.

The best place I liked to dream up for myself was a spot
down by the sea with waves slapping the shore, where bits
of driftwood collected on the sand. I’d dream up a bunch
of gulls for in the sky and have them making a godawful
racket while they swooped above the water. And then
there’d be me on some fancy boat out on the Atlantic. Oh,
I could get used to that right smartly. Most nights that’s
how I’d fall to sleep, eyes squeezed together so tight a whisker
of light couldn’t pry them open.

Then, right before drifting off to sleep, I’d wonder how
long I’d have to stay in this life before I got the one I really
wanted. As I got older I started to figure out that I couldn’t
go on waiting for my new life to begin. I couldn’t sit back
and do nothing. If I didn’t want to be stuck living the kind
of life I had in Tanner with Aunt Millie, I had to come up
with some idea, some way to get out.