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Show •217 "I don't mean never. I can remember twice when I was a kid when he really tried." "And?" Fancy said. I shook my head. "Nothing came of it. He wasn't the sort of man who can talk to kids. He was my father but he was a bastard." "Why do you say was? Is he dead? How could we go see him?" "He'll probably outlive me; I just talk that way-I don't know why. Was, is, what's the difference?" "California," Fancy said. Her voice was dreamy, full of speculation. "All we have to do is decide," I told her. "We could be happy out there. Anybody that isn't happy in California isn't trying." She laid the knife down carefully, next to a pile of peelings. One apple was left; she picked it up and took a thoughtful bite. "All right," she said. I jumped out of the hammock and hugged her. "I'll show you everything," I said. "You've never in your life seen anything like Death Valley or the Rocky Mountains or the California coast after you leave San Francisco and drive north. You can stand on top of the cliffs and watch little yellow planes flying below you, and further down is the blue sea. There isn't another place in the world like that. We |