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throw him.” Piper spoke more harshly than she meant to and she cast her eyes in Conrad’s direction to see his reaction. Conrad was sitting with Fido on his lap, petting him absently; his eyes fixed on the television screen, his face intense and unguarded, as though he had forgotten that anyone was around. Piper could see naked longing in his expression, as if he was drinking in every image of his father and was thirsty for more; as if he wanted to climb through the television and stand next to him.
    Piper could imagine but never know what it must feel like to have your father heartlessly abandon you and never want to see you again. As much as Conrad acted nonchalant, something like that had to hurt.
    For the better part of an hour the family watched the results come in and the analyses accumulate until finally they braced for the big announcement.
    â€œAnd winning the election by a landslide,” the reporter on the television told them excitedly, “is Senator Harrington. I repeat, Senator Harrington is officially the president elect of the United States of America.”
    Betty clapped excitedly. A flush spread across Conrad’s face and it seemed to Piper that he was looking at his father with pride.
    When President Elect Harrington came forward with his wife, he also introduced his four-year-old daughter, Althea. Piper knew that it was the first time Conrad was catching a glimpse of his baby sister, who was born after Dr. Hellion had taken him away. She stood very still, holding her mother’s hand as the cheering died down and Harrington launched into his victory speech.
    â€œI believe in action and results. I am a can-do man and this is a can-do nation.” President Harrington was tall with square shoulders and a handsome face. No question, Conrad was his spitting image.
    â€œThe recent death of my son was a hard test for my wife and me to overcome,” he continued. “But—like this great nation—we found a deeper strength inside of us. We found strength in our pain and used it to move us forward to reach for something better.”
    Piper was aghast. “Did he just say his son died ?”
    Conrad’s face drained of all color.
    It was one thing to reject your son; it was another thing to declare him dead in front of the entire world.
    Conrad was not stupid: he knew that he wasn’t dead. He rationally and factually knew that he was very, very much alive. Which made it all the more strange that he suddenly felt the life seep out of him.

 
    CHAPTER
    7
    By spring Conrad had a lingering cough that wracked his thin shoulders and caused his entire body to bend. Dark circles lined his eyes and he had somehow managed to lose even more weight so that his clothes hung like a defeated flag about his body. To Piper he looked like he was being habitually starved and whipped, neither of which was true.
    Conrad walked slowly and kept his eyes down as they left the Lowland County Schoolhouse. He bent forward to counterbalance the weight of his book bag against his bony back.
    â€œWhat you got in that bag?” Piper chirped, bobbing next to Conrad, as though her sheer enthusiasm might rescue his low spirits. “A small planet?”
    â€œMath homework.” Conrad switched the lump of a bag to his other shoulder.
    â€œ You have homework?” Piper rolled her eyes. “Conrad, that’s plain crazy.”
    â€œActually,” he explained, “there’s nothing crazy about it. Most kids find math very challenging.”
    â€œMost kids haven’t hacked into the United States Defense Department mainframe and reprogrammed an orbiting satellite. And most kids haven’t figured out a way to bend the space-time continuum so—”
    â€œMost kids at twelve years old—”
    â€œYou’re not most kids.” Piper stopped suddenly and blocked Conrad’s path. “You’re not even some kids. You’re in a group of