By William Kowalski
I might puzzled approximately my mom all my existence -- what she gave the look of, how she smelled and sounded and acted. in recent years this pondering had grown to surround a interest concerning the form of humans she herself got here from, simply because they have been my family members, too, finally, even supposing I knew not anything approximately them. i might no proposal whether or not they have been loud or soft-spoken, humorous or uninteresting, hottest chocolate to vanilla, in the event that they beloved video clips over books or the opposite direction round. I puzzled even if any of them had ever performed whatever extraordinary of their lives, or in the event that they have been the type of individuals who have been happy with simply getting by means of. these items have been very important -- figuring out them might support me to grasp myself, and the one means that will occur used to be if I went and searched for her. With all his possessions on his bike, Billy Mann units off on a cross-country odyssey from big apple to Santa Fe looking for a mom who abandoned him some time past. What Billy discovers, despite the fact that, is a existence wealthy with threat -- the opportunity for romance, friendship, and, eventually, a kin to name his personal.
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Extra info for Somewhere South of Here: A Novel
I never heard a name like that before, ese,” he said. ” “I don’t know,” I said. This bit of ignorance appeared to concern him. “My name is Julio, which means July,” he pointed out. I waited for him to explain the relevance of this, but after a moment I realized he was merely introducing himself. “Billy Mann, which also doesn’t mean anything, as far as I know,” I said. ” “Come back, you ever want another burrito,” he said. ” “Thanks,” I said. I pulled away once again and pointed my bike out of town.
I croaked—thinking, or rather hoping, that my quest would be solved this easily after all. But he said: “She’s gone, homes. ” “Gone? ” “No, gone like in gone. Vanished—like smoke. ” “Thank God,” I said. He looked at me curiously. ” He thought for a moment. ” I shook my head. “Aha,” he said. ” “Something like that,” I said. But I changed the subject. I didn’t want him knowing anything about why I was really asking. I had a lead now, and I was elated, but with a couple of questions I steered him back to chiles.
I looked up, startled. I, who was not even allowed to say “shit” in the house, had never heard Mildred talk that way about anybody before, not even her late husband. “Excuse me,” Mildred said, as though she’d belched. “Ah, the poor little thing. Anyway . ” I said. Mildred nodded. A lightbulb went on in my mind. ” She nodded again. Suddenly many things made sense. ” I asked—for I like to know the facts of everything, not out of nosiness but out of habit. Grandpa had trained me early in life to notice small details.