“Hello? This is DUNCAN!”
“DAD. THIS IS TESS!”
The screech came to an end.
“Tess,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t blame him for asking. The only time he ever got a call from me was when something was going horribly.
“Nothing,” I lied. “Nothing is going horribly.”
A deafening explosion stepped on my line.
“What?” he said.
“NOTHING IS WRONG!” I said. “EVERYTHING IS PERFECT!”
Silence.
“Dad,” I said. “What the hell is going on? It sounds like an air raid over there.”
“I’ll be honest.” He sighed. “You haven’t caught me at the best time, kid.”
I couldn’t remember a time when I had.
“I just have to tell you one thing,” I said. “I’ll be quick.”
I took a breath and made sure another boom wasn’t coming.
“I’m quitting,” I said.
I didn’t wait for him to respond.
“I gave up. On school. I’m quitting and coming home, probably forever. I hope that’s cool with you.”
I expected a gasp. Or at very least a sigh. All I got was another crackle in the air.
“Dad?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I lost you for a minute. Did you say something?”
I closed my eyes and mouthed a few f-bombs.
“Forgive me, Tess,” he said. “The ceremony isn’t going so great here. The rockets just went off ahead of schedule and people are kind of freaking.”
“Wait a minute. Rockets? What are you talking about?”
“They were supposed to go off at twelve, but it’s onlyeleven thirty. I’m not sure why that’s such a big deal, but apparently Zebulon was born just after midnight....”
“Who isZebulon?” I asked.
I both did and did not want to know.
“A Borzoi!” he said. “Beautiful dog. At least, he was. He’s been through a cremulator now, poor guy. He belonged to a famous science fiction writer. Thus, the rockets. And the name Zebulon, I guess. He’s being launched as we speak. It’s really quite—”
Another staccato of bursts.
“Hold on. You’re doing dog funerals now?”
