When You Reach Me

Parting Gifts

My letter is almost finished now. Very soon, I will bring it to Marcus, just like you asked.

There are things I could tell him, things I think I’ve figured out, like that those naked guys—the ones running down the street the days we had to eat lunch in the school cafeteria, and the one I saw flickering in and out before the accident—they were all you, learning how to get here. Practicing. You said you couldn’t carry anything, and I guess that includes clothes. That’s why you carried my notes in your mouth.

Or I could give Marcus some advice, like if he gets hungry while he’s visiting, he’ll find Annemarie’s perfectly good lunch in the garbage can across from the schoolyard, where she threw it away every day for six weeks. But I’m pretty sure you figured that out for yourself.

Or I could tell him about Julia.

But I’ve decided I won’t say much. I’ll just hand him my letter and say, “Try not to land in the broccoli.” He’ll understand. He’s a smart kid.