Page 49 of Wayfarers

“You know that phrase ‘when the Universe closes a door, it opens a window’?”

“I’ve heard it said with ‘God’ but yes,” Sylvie says.

“When God breaks an arm, he heals an outlook.”

Sylvie laughs. The sound fills me like drinking something warm. It’s a laugh I would love to spend many days hearing. I wouldn’t ever get tired of it.

“You feel like telling me about your big life change?” she asks.

“I already sort of did. I told you about buying my uncle’s truck and striking out on my own—it was because I’d decided that my mom’s way of living wasn’t for me and now that I’m eighteen, it’s time for me to live life on my own terms.”

Sylvie fakes a snore. We crack up. “No, seriously,” she says. “That’s, like, the most interesting. Big changes where you’re taking charge of your life and bending it to your will are way better than the kind where you’re just along for the ride.”

“We’re in the driver’s seat now,” I say.

“Well,” she says, “I am. I mean, if we’re being literal.”

That’s when she runs over something in the road.

Sylvie A Thump Is

1.

half a heartbeat. A drop of water gathered up at the very top

of the window. The almost, the not yet. Expectation

without fulfillment. Knox next to me

with an hour left, talking to me like we have all summer.

2.

Geitner Road in the cold and dark.

3.

this little lift up of the car, three wheels

down, then the fourth, past the sign on the right

that says MEAUWATAKA GENERAL STORE.

Something small that was trying to hide.

Is it me? The wheel’s out of my hands.

Sylvie

“What was that?”

“Whoa!” Knox grabs the wheel to steady it. “Pull over, pull over—easy, it’s okay—”

“What was it? Do you see it?”

“Right up here—no, watch the road! There’s a parking lot for the general store—there, okay. Sylvie?”

“What did I hit?”