Everybody Sees the Ants (30 page)
“I need you to tell your father that everything is over now. I need you to tell him that I loved him more than I ever loved anything in my life.”
I’m crying. I can’t talk. I nod.
“I need you to tell him. You will, right?”
I sniffle. “Yes. I’ll tell him.”
He jumps into the hole like a man who is not dying. “If my government ever wants to know where I am, you tell them I died where the view was outstanding.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and quietly sob for all of us. For him, for Granny Janice and for Dad. I sob for Mom and how she married into this. I sob for myself. When I open my eyes, he is lying in the bottom of the hole, motionless. His arms are behind his head, and he has a grin on his face. He has
lounged
himself to death.
I cover him with the dirt. Time passes. I sweat through my shirt, and my beard itches. Only when I finish, I stab the shovel into the ground and find a cigarette and light it. I marvel at the view—a landscape of cloudlike jungle canopy. It is, without a doubt, outstanding.
• • •
When I wake up, it’s dark. It’s 3:34
AM
. I’m covered in grit and sweat. My feet are brown with mud, and I’m sucking on something. I spit it into my hand and unfold it. It’s a fortune from a fortune cookie. It says
THE SIMPLEST ANSWER IS TO ACT
.
I bend my thumb to my ring finger, and I feel it there—the wedding band. And so it’s time.
LUCKY LINDERMAN HAS SOMETHING TO SAY
There
is something magical about the world at night. Sitting at the dining room table, sipping a glass of iced tea, I can totally understand why Dad gets up so early. Minutes seem to last longer when the rest of the world is asleep. I think he heard me come in here, because I hear him flush the toilet and walk down the hall.
He fixes himself a glass of ice water and sits down across from me.
How do I do this? How do I tell my father that I got to meet his father, when he didn’t? That I just buried him? How do I explain something so unbelievable? So unjust?
I take the ring off and set it on the table between us.
He looks at me, still smudged with red dirt, my hair dried to my head. He picks up the ring and reads the inscription out
loud. “ ‘Harry and Janice, September twenty-third, 1970.’ ” He looks at me. “This is my dad’s.” He blinks. “Where did you get this?”
I say, “Do you have a few minutes?” I reach across the table and hold his hand. “I need to tell you something really important.”
Lottery Numbers, by Birth Date, for Selective Service–Lottery Held July 1, 1970
This determined the order in which men born in 1951 were called to report for induction into the military
.
Source: Selective Service System
First:
This book is in memory of Ed Daniels—a good man who cared about women and wasn’t afraid to show it.
Second:
This book is dedicated to every missing soldier and to their families. I want to especially thank Jo Anne Shirley, vice chairman of the board of the National League of POW/MIA Families. Jo Anne, your frankness about what it’s like to have a missing loved one was incredibly helpful and affecting. Additional thanks to the many people who talked with me about their own POW/MIA, Vietnam War and draft lottery experiences.
Third:
I owe planet-sized thanks to my agent, Michael Bourret, who is so tremendous they should make an action figure out of him. To the entire team at Little, Brown who do such amazing work, including my editor Andrea Spooner, who
understands
; Deirdre Sprague-Rice, who should be cloned; and Victoria Stapleton, who sent me a tweet while I was sitting on a bench by myself, which meant a lot more than she thinks it did.
I owe thanks to the usual suspects. My family—Mom, Dad, Robyn, Lisa and the whole extended crew for your support. And Topher, love—how do I thank you? Let me count the ways. My friends—a bow of gratitude to Krista, my superhero, and to Christine and Maria, who introduced me to the V-Day movement. Without you (and Ed) this book would not be. All other friends know who they are and should assume this sentence is for them. My fans—to every
one of you who has written to me, come to see me at signings, or spread the word. And to the amazing educators, booksellers, librarians, teachers and bloggers who have supported my work, thank you so much.
And finally:
To my fellow kindness ninjas who help without saying a word—thank you. I see you. Do you see me?
1: THE FIRST THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—THE SQUID
2: THE SECOND THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—NADER McMILLAN
3: LUCKY LINDERMAN IS UNDER STRICT ORDERS
4: THE THIRD THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—THE TURTLE
5: OPERATION DON’T SMILE EVER—FRESHMAN YEAR
6: LUCKY LINDERMAN HIDES THINGS UNDER HIS BED
7: LUCKY LINDERMAN IS NOT MAKING SCRAMBLED EGGS
8: THE FOURTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—THE ANTS
9: THE FIFTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—THIS IS GOING TO SUCK
10: LUCKY LINDERMAN IS NOT GOING TO STAIN YOUR CARPET
11: OPERATION DON’T SMILE EVER—FRESHMAN YEAR
12: LUCKY LINDERMAN CAN BENCH-PRESS FORTY-FIVE POUNDS
13: THE SIXTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—THE NINJA
14: THE SEVENTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—JODI GETS WEIRDER ON WEEKENDS
15: OPERATION DON’T SMILE EVER—FRESHMAN YEAR
16: LUCKY LINDERMAN IS IN AISLE SEVEN
17: THE EIGHTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—GINNY CLEMENS
18: LUCKY LINDERMAN NEEDS SERIOUS HELP
19: THE NINTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL
20: LUCKY LINDERMAN IS STILL TRYING TO DESCRIBE THE GRAND CANYON
21: OPERATION DON’T SMILE EVER—FRESHMAN YEAR
22: LUCKY LINDERMAN COULD BE STALKER MATERIAL
23: THE TENTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—THE PILLS ARE NOT WORKING
24: LUCKY LINDERMAN KNOWS MORE THAN HE LETS ON
25: THE ELEVENTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW
26: OPERATION DON’T SMILE EVER—FRESHMAN YEAR
27: LUCKY LINDERMAN DOESN’T USE THE STUPID SHAMPOO
28: THE TWELFTH THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—IRON PYRITE LOOKS A LOT LIKE GOLD
29: LUCKY LINDERMAN ARRIVES AT FRIDAY
30: LUCKY LINDERMAN LOOKS SMALLER HERE
31: OPERATION DON’T SMILE EVER—FRESHMAN YEAR
33: THE LAST THING YOU NEED TO KNOW—MISSING LIMBS
34: LUCKY LINDERMAN HAS SOMETHING TO SAY
RESULTS FOR MEN FACING THE DRAFT IN 1971
Copyright © 2011 by A.S. King
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
First eBook Edition: October 2011
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-19181-4
