I’m stationed with Paul. Calvin’s stationed with Damon. Corina and maddie float, so we each get one day off every week. We need them. Two glides a day and I’m so wiped I can’t do anything but eat and fall asleep on the couch.
While we’re under, our bodies stop functioning except for essential services. Our consciousness is in the target, and there’s nothing more exhausting for human biology than to maintain ties to the consciousness while it’s traveling.
I can see why we do it in pairs. It seems like the tie could break easily if we stretched too far, permanently separating body and mind.
We’ve got to be vigilant or there will be dead witnesses.
I used to sleep six hours each night, but now I’m sleeping ten. Except when I can’t sleep at all.
The only other witness who seems to have trouble sleeping is Calvin. He’s always in the kitchen, sitting at the table, reading a book. I’ve gone in to get something for a midnight snack. Calvin and a book. Breakfast? Calvin and a book. Afternoon popcorn? Calvin and a book.
It’s three in the morning and I’ve given up on sleeping. I keep thinking about how Jordan Castle is always pretending at home, but completely open with Will. I don’t think I’ve ever had that with anyone. I was close with Beems, but there were still things I never told him about myself. Parts of my heart feel like the dark side of the moon, and I can’t imagine ever letting another person know all of me.
I’m in the kitchen for a snack. I’m not looking for company, but of course, Calvin’s already there.
“What’cha reading?” I ask as I step toward the cat carrier.
He looks up at me, then down at his book before holding it out for me to see. In the weeks I’ve been here, it’s been different every time I’ve asked:
“Breakfast of Champions.” “Choke.” “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.” “Heart of Darkness.”
This time it’s Tuva or Bust!
Richard gives them to him. Calvin says there are shelves full of books in his office, but I don’t remember seeing them.
“You’re always reading.”
Calvin shrugs and puts down his book. “Books keep my mind occupied. When I’m not reading, my brain gets sticky so thoughts don’t leave.” He raises his eyes like he’s trying to look at his own brain. “My head gets full up. It’s why I can’t sleep.”
I know exactly what he means, too. My head’s just done the same thing, which is why I’m in for a midnight snack. “Maybe I should try that.”
Calvin nods, strokes his goatee. He looks like a wise owl when he does it. “I got a book for you, man.” He stands up. “Wait here.” He walks out of the room before I can say no thanks.
When Calvin comes back, he’s holding a book clutched up against his chest like it’s a baby. I can’t see what it is, and he doesn’t give it to me right away. Instead he sits down across from me and looks at it for a minute before handing it over.
“This is the only book I came in with,” he tells me as I look at it. It’s got a drawing of a big red knife across the cover, but it’s barely visible because the cover is so trashed. I’m afraid to even pick it up because it might fall apart. “I was in the system before I came here.” He looks at me, raises his eyebrows to see if I get what he means.
“Foster?”
He nods. “Yeah. Been in homes since before I was old enough to know anything. I got moved around a lot, so I didn’t get to have much, but this . . .” He points at the book. “This was mine. I got it from a book thing at school when I was thirteen—one of those things where they call you up and you get to pick a book and it’s yours?”
I nod. I know what he’s talking about, but I never had feelings about them.
“I was just starting a new school, a new house, and neither one of them were good places for me, so I sucked up into this book and I lived there instead.” He taps the cover, pushes it over to me. “Your turn.”
It’s called The Knife of Never Letting Go, and it’s by a guy named Patrick Ness. I look up at him and he’s looking at me and the book like we’re supposed to understand what he means. He’s making me nervous, so I just shake my head a little.
He nods slowly. “It’s about this kid named Todd who lives on a planet where all the men and all the animals, they broadcast their thoughts to each other—they call it ‘Noise.’ His people are killed and he’s got to go on the run with nobody but his dog.”
I say thanks, then hand it back. It looks like it means a lot to him and I don’t want to be responsible, but he shakes his head at me.
“Nah, man. Read it. Keep it.” He shrugs and picks up the book he’s reading now. “I memorized that shit.”