Away We Go Page #8

of 850 Chechnyan orphans?

I do.

Chechnyan orphans. I do.

I do.

We had an orange tree.

Who?

When we were kids.

My dad was really

proud of it.

He planted it one spring, and he used to

go out there first thing every morning,

see if any oranges had grown.

But nothing ever grew.

The thing was sickly or something,

or the soil wasn't right.

One morning, my mom woke Grace

and me up really early,

like, at 5:
00,

and she led us out to the tree with these

and pineapples and grapes

and melons, for some reason.

And we just hung all the fruit from

the tree using tape and string.

It worked, actually.

And then we all ran into the truck

and we slouched down

and we just waited

for my dad to come out.

What did he say?

Well, he stared

at it for a full minute,

just staring at it.

I think at first

he thought they were real,

like the tree had burst

into fruit overnight,

and then, I guess he saw the

pineapples or something,

and he just started laughing harder

than we'd ever heard him laugh.

And Grace and I just ran

out of the truck, squealing.

And my mom just...

And from then on,

every once in a while one of us

would hang fruit from there.

Usually something plastic, like pears

or strawberries or bananas.

Is this starting to look familiar?

I think so.

God, I want it to.

But I want it to be new.

You know?

New for us.

New enough to feel like we found it.

Does that make sense?

Yeah.

You ready?

I am.

Are you?

Yes, I am.

God, I forgot how beautiful it is.

This place is perfect for us.

Don't you think?

I hope so.

I really f***ing hope so.

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