On the coffee table in front of her was a crayon sketch I’d made in kindergarten the year before of Ma, Dad, and me. The couch and dialed Dad’s cell over and over and over.

We came through the door of the apartment to find Ma, pale and trembling as she sat on the edge of He’d driven so fast down the streets, and I could feel the whole car vibrating with fear. Scooped me up into his arms and ran to his car. I hurried down the hall to him, and the moment he saw me he She rushed me into my coat and told me to go with my Uncle Donny (9-30-2062), who was waiting for me in the principal’s office. The classroom phone and, almost before she’d turned to stare back at me with wide eyes, I’d known something bad was happening at home. Lucas (2-12-2041) had to leave the circle to answer Jenny Beaumont (10-14-2074) had brought her collection ofīeanie Babies for us to pass around the circle, and I’d fallen in love with a little chipmunk. I remember it was a Tuesday, because in my first-grade class we had show-and-tell on Tuesdays. Actually, it took two years and one day too many. It took us a couple of years to figure out what they meant. Small black gravestones against a pale white landscape. I can still see his face so clearly in my mind, the blue of his eyes, the black of his hair, the crook to his nose, and those numbers permanently etched onto hisįorehead. He was smiling with me, but also confused. But when I’d settled down, I saw that he had the most puzzled look on Then I laughed and laughed, and I remember thinking he’d be so proud of me for saying his numbers back to him. Loud-the last piece of the puzzle in place-and I pointed to him triumphantly and shouted, “Nine-two-three-two-circle-circle-four!” We went through so many others to get to it, and finally it had a name. He taught me one, two, and three I was so excited. The secret of why those odd littleįigures kept hovering right above everyone’s foreheads. I already knew my shapes-circle, square, triangle-so I picked up on the lesson really fast, and I thought Dad was finally revealing the secret.

I was probably three or four-four, I think-and he was showing me on a piece of paper how to draw numbers and what to call Windows fully open to allow for even the faintest breeze. That morning the city traffic was loud, streaming in through I remember the blue of his shirt perfectly matching the color of his eyes. Table from me, already dressed for his mid-morning shift. The clearest first memory I have of seeing them comes from a muggy summer morning when Dad was sitting across the With a set of small black digits floating like shadows just above their foreheads.

My earliest memories are filled with snatches of familiar and unfamiliar faces, each I’M NOT EXACTLY SURE WHEN I first started seeing the numbers.

When by victoria laurie sparknotes