by Pat Schmatz
“I don’t know. I’m not good at choosing.”
“Don’t choose.” Again I reach out to her, and this time she doesn’t step away. I touch her cheek. “Just be Sully.”
She’s already chosen. I can see it. But still, she came to see if I was here. A choice within a choice.
“Will I ever see you again?” she asks.
“You will.” I can’t see how, but I’m sure that it’s true. “If you’re a guide, you won’t get the implants. Machete’s first name is Darlene. Remember that she lies.”
“You could stay,” says Sully. “She’d let you back in. We could be guides together. We could shut up and do what we’re told until we’ve certed and gotten some cred, and then we can change things from the inside. You and me, together.”
“Shh.”
I put a finger on Sully’s lips and shake my head, and then I hug her. It’s different now. Warmth but no fire, no electric jazz. Our hearts beat close but not together, and the staggered rhythm strikes me so sad. I remind myself of the worlds and worlds, and impossible possibles.
We step apart. Sully reaches across the space between us and catches a tear as it falls from my eye. She holds her finger up in the moonlight.
“Lizard tear,” she says. “It’ll keep me safe.”
I nod, but it’s not true. Nothing is safe. Some things are free.
“Mind the regs,” I say. “And do me a favor — watch out for Emmett?”
Sully looks me full in the eyes and there she is — all the contradictions, all the wrongs and rights, jazz and loyalty and fear and good fun and everything in between.
“Friends?” she asks.
“Friends.”
This time I say it and mean it with all I can feel and all that I know, which isn’t much, but it’s more than it used to be.
In the last of the lingering moonlight, I leave the oak grove and Sully and CropCamp behind. I take with me my skin and my heart and my tears and my light. I believe that there are gaps in the boundary. I’ll find them. I will.
This book, more than anything I’ve written, absolutely required community to bring it forth. I’m grateful to the people who helped me in so many ways — to envision, to draft, to keep writing drafts, and to search and search again for the book’s dragon heart.
Mary Ann Rafferty gave me the beautiful sketchbook where the Lizard first appeared. Mat DeFiler, Jane Resh Thomas, Annetta Wright, Laura Greene, Sara Aikin, Susa Silvamarie, Jane St. Anthony, Mary Lynn Morales, and Catherine Friend plowed through early drafts and ideas with me.
Background music and inspiration came from John Coltrane and Ferron. In particular, Ferron’s song “It Won’t Take Long” from the 1984 Shadows on a Dime LP has kept me thinking for years about freedom, strength, and dreamers in the making, and with this book I finally had a place to put some of those thoughts.
My former agent Andrea Cascardi helped me to believe that Lizard Radio could grow up to be a book. Fiona Kenshole and David Bennett at TLA stepped in with more suggestions, and David launched the Lizard to the next stage with a shiny brilliant idea and professional guidance at the right time.
Many friends, family members, and colleagues helped with the feeding and care of the komodo over months and years: Maryasha, Ponch, Nora, Lisa, Merry, Ruth, Terry, Kim, Amelie, Emily, Eddie, Jeremy, Jane, Denise, Yerp, Kate, B.E., Barbara, my Minneapolis book club, the Writing in the Woods group, and others.
Jane Resh Thomas, who taught me about the power of endowed objects, gave me a toy Komodo and a gang of metal lizards to help me tune in. Becky Stanborough, Alice Deighan, and Mitzi Mize took me to smell the breath of a real-life Komodo dragon. Mitzi’s magical artist-eye gave me my screen saver, and Becky Stanborough waded through chapter by chapter and came back with incredibly smart and careful suggestions. Thanks to Babs and Meg for bringing the nonfictional Sully into my world, and to Babs for the eagle-proofing eye. Special thanks to Maryasha Katz for asking me to try that last paragraph again.
What a relief it was to turn the Lizard over to Joan Powers at Candlewick Press! Joan had the Lizard’s back (and mine) at every turn. She has a very clear, focused way of asking for clarity and specificity without shutting anything down. I absolutely trust her gentle editorial hand.
Working with the Candlewick team on a book is the best. I can easily appreciate the tangibles, like Meghan Blosser’s meticulous copy edits and Pam Consolazio’s otherworldly cover design, but there’s so much more above and below the surface. Each Candlewick person I’ve met seems like part of something magical, working for the forces of good in the world. I can’t believe I get to be part of it.
Above all, I’m grateful to the Lizards that came before, those who’ve walked with me, and those to follow. Let’s hope we keep finding the gaps in the boundaries.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2015 by Pat Schmatz
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the publisher.
First electronic edition 2015
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 2014944796
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