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Back The Cloud Chamber
Chapters (35)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Author’s Note
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty

He pulled the truck to a stop in the parking lot at the ferry landing. “Come on out and breathe the salt air,” he said.

The two of them stood there, facing the water—the boats, the outline of an island in the distance, a few sails blowing taut in the wind like his mother’s laundry on the clothesline, and beyond, as far as you could see, nothing but blue water and whitecaps.

Before, Nate always thought of their farmland as endless in all directions from their house, acre upon acre. But, from here in Seattle, his life back in Montana suddenly looked as small and narrow as a cow’s stall. It came to him how much there was beyond the edges of their farm, beyond Poppa’s ranch and the town, how many things a person might do with his life besides milking cows or growing hay or playing baseball. Sailing boats, for instance. Catching fish. Crossing whole oceans, even, to other continents, where at this very moment some boy just his age might be standing with his dad, looking out to sea in the exact opposite direction. He didn’t say anything, but for some reason, he could feel tears stinging his eyes.

Nate felt his dad’s big hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you’ve never had fish before, have you?” he said.

“We have fish sticks every Friday,” Nate reminded him.

“I mean real fish. Today we’re getting you a salmon steak. No two ways about it.”

The restaurant was called Barnacle Bill’s. The salmon plate cost $5.95, but they ordered two of them anyway. While they were waiting for their meal, Nate wrote a note to Junie on the back of the free postcard he’d picked up by the cash register. Even though they’d be home in a day, he was going to mail it.

“Dad,” Nate said when the waiter came with their meal, “is our fish supposed to be pink?”

“Stranger things are true.”

Once they were back in the truck, Nate and his father headed to the stable to make their delivery. “Valley View Acres,” Dad said, looking over the directions. “I want you to keep your eyes peeled, Nathan, because if I’m right, we’re about to see some Arabian horses. The horses they keep at a place like this probably cost more than our whole farm put together.”