(Click here for Chapter 1) October, 1981 It's dark and it's musty. I'm dressed like a cowboy. I'm surrounded by whispers and black curtains. Flashes of color. My knees buckle, but I catch myself before they give out completely. Yellowish bubbles of light obscure my vision, and my stomach does a slow roll under my fringed leather vest. The orbs of yellow dissolve into the darkness around me, and I hear the distant, fading echo of birdsong. There's the low hum of a crowd somewhere to my left, and in front of me is a dimly lit stage. There's a heavy blue curtain on one side and a backdrop painted like downtown Dodge City to the right. Cardboard cacti are scattered in between. Someone whispers in my ear: "Fifteen minutes!" The play. I'm in a mother-fucking play. --- As the light and the birdsong fades, the hum of the audience grows from the other side of the velvety blue curtain, and I sneak over, edge my way through the 10 other
(Click here for Chapter 1) October, 1977 I don't take the money. Though I consider it. One dollar is 3 comic books. Instead, I stare at it mutely until a breeze lifts it away and drops it into a thicket of bushes just as the final school bell rings down the hill. Dill watches it go, looks one more time into my eyes as if searching for a response to his offer, then turns on his heels and runs toward the bell and through the school door. Part of me expects him to disappear into a flash of yellow light. I envision a cryptic message written on the back of a dollar bill from the future. But Dill remains solid as he pushes through the door, into the school, and off toward the elementary classrooms on the right, and when I manage to retrieve the dollar bill from the bushes, it's just a dollar bill. 1971. And then there's the birds. They seem no louder or quieter than usual. I shove the dollar bill into my pocket and follow Dill through the door, turning left instead o