Even though it was a geographic inconvenience, I really liked Holliday Park.
When I was a little kid, I would wade in the White River with my dad
and there was always this great moment when he would throw me up in the air, just toss me away from him,
and I would reach out my arms as I flew and he would reach out his arms,
and then we would both see that our arms were not going to touch and no one was going to catch me,
and it would kind of scare the shit out of both of us in the best possible way,
and then I would legs-flailingly hit the water and then come up for air uninjured
and the current would bring me back to him as I said again, Daddy, again.
I pulled into the driveway right next to an old black Toyota sedan I figured was Isaac’s car.
Carting the tank behind me, I walked up to the door. I knocked.
Gus’s dad answered. “Just Hazel,” he said. “Nice to see you.”
“Augustus said I could come over?” “Yeah, he and Isaac are in the basement.”
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