Katherine Marsh - The Night Tourist

It was just after dusk when the accident happened. As usual, Jack Perdu was walking through the Yale University campus with his nose buried in Ovids Metamorphoses. Although he was only in the ninth grade, he had an after-school job helping the head of the universitys Classics department on her new English translation. It was the day after Christmas so there were no professors around, which meant that there was no reason for Jack to look up out of his book. But suddenly he heard a shout.

Hey, Jack!

Jack stopped walking and looked up. A girl in a puffy blue parka was running toward him across the brick walkway between the Yale library and Elm Street. Her hair was in braids, and she was frantically waving at him.

Its Tanya, she panted when she reached him. Im in your English class.

Oh, said Jack. He knew who she was, but, like most of the kids at Hyde Leadership High School, shed never spoken to him before.

I was just going to the store to return this pair of pants my mother got me for Christmas, she explained, pulling a pair of brown corduroys out of a plastic bag. Theyre pretty awful, arent they?

Jack, who was wearing a pair of pants very much like them, didnt say anything. Tanya didnt seem to notice. Anyway, I cant remember what book were supposed to read over break. When I saw you, I knew youd know.

Of Mice and Men, said Jack.

Tanya grinned. I bet youve read it already.

Jack gave a noncommittal shrug. Hed actually read it a few years earlier.

You live here, right? Tanya pointed vaguely at the stone residential colleges, which surrounded the walkway on either side.

Jack nodded.

And let me guess, your dads a professor?

Hes the chair of the Archeology department.

Tanya smiled. Thats why youre so smart. You know every poem in class before we even read it.

Not really, he murmured, though he usually did.

Is your mom a professor too?

Jack shivered and pulled his cap tighter over his unruly thatch of hair. No, he said. Shes dead.

Oh my God, Im so sorry! said Tanya.

Its okay. It happened a long time ago. I was six.

Tanyas eyes widened. What happened?

Jack looked around her for an escape route. A scaffold fell on her in New York City, he murmured. It was a windy day.

Thats horrible!

It happened a long time ago, he repeated. Eight years ago this month, he thought, but didnt say it. He looked down at the book in his hands.

What are you reading? It doesnt look like the Mice and Men book.

Jack held up the book so she could see the spine.

Metamorphoses. Tanya wrinkled her nose. Is that a book about insects or something?

Its a book of Greek myths.

Tanya shook her head. Youre too smart to be in high school, Jack. You should be a professor or something yourself.

Ive got to go, he said. And before she had a chance to say anything else, he flipped open the Metamorphoses and started walking toward Elm Street. Hed heard it all before.

As he hurried away, Jack focused on how to properly translate the Latin word occidit. He had just started Book Ten of the Metamorphoses, which contained his favorite myth, the story of the musician Orpheus. After a snakebite kills his bride, Eurydice, Orpheus descends into the underworld to bring her back. Jack had gotten as far as the snake attack, after which Eurydice occidit. Occidit could mean that the snake killed her or cut her down, but it could also mean that she perished. Some people might not think theres much of a difference between these possibilities, but Jack did. You could perish in an accident and no one is to blame. But when youre killed, a killer in Eurydices case, the snakeis at fault.

Jack stepped onto the crosswalk, his feet feeling ahead of him as his nose stayed pointed like a weather vane into his book. To be killed, to perish, he murmured, weighing the possibilities. Just as he registered the grammar and settled on the word perish, exonerating the snake from any intentional wrongdoing, he heard Tanya shout, Jack! But he lifted the book closer to his face, pretending not to hear. The next thing he knew, there was loud, heavy metal music, and he was knocked off his feet and into the air.

Jack barely had time to register what had happened. He caught a glimpse of the car that hit him, heard panicked shouts, and closed his eyes as his body hit the ground. A loud rushing sound filled his ears. Then he blacked out.

When Jack came to, he could hear voices talking over him, at first high-pitched like insects and then slow and demon-like. A wave of nausea passed over him, and he felt too tired to open his eyes. His ears began to adjust themselves to the voices. Hes a very lucky boy, said one. He has a few bruises on his chest and legs, but no internal injuries. He should be waking up....

Are you sure hes okay?

Jacks eyelids flickered. This voice was his fathers.

The medics... when they found him...

Jack could hear a loud sniffle. Even in his semiconscious state, he wondered if his father was going to cry the way he did late at night after Jack went to bed. The one time Jack had mentioned it, his father had stiffened and told him that he had been dreaming.

Well keep him here overnight for observation just to be sure. But I can assure you, Professor Perdu. We did CAT scans, X-rays... a dozen different tests. It was a shock to his system, but hes a strong, healthy boy.

Thank you, his father said softly.

There was the sliding noise of a curtain being closed as the doctor departed.

With great effort, Jack opened his eyes. He was lying on a cot surrounded by a white curtain. He looked at his father, who was blinking back tears.

Dad?

His father gripped Jacks hand in his own, something he hadnt done in years. He had a full, gray beard, and was much older than the fathers of Jacks classmates. He cleared his throat. How do you feel?

Jack carefully stretched his arms and legs. Nothing hurt, but he felt stiff, like hed just run a marathon. He propped himself up on his elbows. Not too bad for being hit by a car.

His father chuckled. The tears in his eyes, Jack noticed, had dried. Tough kid, he said, letting go of his hand. You scared that girl, though, half to death. Jack suddenly remembered Tanya and lay back on the cot. He imagined her telling the other kids at school about the accident. He pictured them laughing as Tanya explained, I was shouting at him, but he wouldnt even look up from his book.

His father leaned over him. Are you okay?