"I think I'm old enough for a little respect."
In the winter of 1922, teens Vivian and Gilbert watch their family disintegrate. Their chemist father always travels. Their mom seems awfully interested in that slick traveling salesman - and in drinkin...
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Chapter 1
"I think I'm old enough for a little respect," Vivian said. The crisp afternoon air turned her breath to a puff of fog. She kicked a pebble with her left walking-oxford. It clinked on a fire hydrant and ricocheted toward the five-and-dime. Luckily, it clicked against brick and didn't chip the shop window.
Gilbert glanced back over his shoulder toward school for the fifth time in two minutes. "Uh-huh," he said automatically.
Vivian glared at her brother. "Pay attention, Gilbert! I'm baring my soul, here, and you're just moony."
The lad's head whipped around. "Am not!"
"Are so. Becky Kramer's chasing Jock Smithers, so give up on her." Vivian stared at Gilbert, eyes brown under well-groomed eyebrows.
"Vivian, don't be mean. I like her."
"Yes, but it's not mutual."
"You got that straight. I'm invisible to her. Why? What's Jock got that I haven't got?" The strolling pair passed the new gas station. A black truck refueled there, too shiny and new for rustic little Lark Haven, Pennsylvania.
"He's two-thirds ox. She'll figure out what sort of oaf he is soon enough. Get her on the rebound after Jock kicks her into the gutter."
Gilbert compressed his lips. "You talk too much."
Vivian snapped, "Do I? The third-graders think I have no vocal chords at all. I heard them talking. I talk to you because we're twins. But, will you listen to me?"
Gilbert released a puff of breath fog and spread gloved hands out. "I'm listening."
"Good. I'm trying to tell you we're almost grown up. We've got wings and we're ready to fly. We're practically adults."
"We're fifteen."
"Yes."
They marched in silence for two whole blocks, past quiet residences. After the homes, they crossed the mysterious invisible line that marked the city limits of Lark Haven. The street pavement cracked and crumbled to gravel roadway.
Gilbert cocked his head at Vivian. "You're absolutely right. No one understands. We're not children anymore. I'm strong—"
Vivian cut him off. "I'm stronger."
"In your dreams. I'm growing muscles. You've got," Gilbert made cupping motions at his chest, "you know, those, now."
"Yes, well, I guess I'm getting there. But it proves my point even more." Vivian raised her chin.
Gilbert clapped a hand around Vivian's upper arm and stopped her. Her feet slid and raised puffs of dust. He stabbed a finger over the snowy fields that had sprouted squash and turnips last summer.
