Page 8 of Sparrow

I laughed. "Better Off Dead. Did you ever see that movie? It's from the eighties."

"No, but I know about it. It's with John Cusack, right?"

"Yes, and his mom in the movie is hilarious. She can't cook, and she makes this blue stuff with raisins in it. It's a big glob."

"Gross."

"Tell me about it. It literally crawls off the plate."

"What? In the movie?"

"Yes," I said. "The pile of gel stuff is like, on wheels or something… I don't know, maybe it was remote control. But it moved off of his plate. He sat there and watched it crawl."

"I didn't know that movie was so weird," he said, causing me to laugh.

"That was just one little scene. But the movie is pretty weird, in general. Funny, though. It's one of my favorites."

"This is incredible," he said, seeing the spot where we would sit. "We've been out on this water for days, and it never ceases to amaze me how picturesque it is."

"I've been here almost my whole life, and it never gets old. I am in love with this landscape, and yet all I do is think about leaving."

"You want to leave?" he asked, glancing at me.

I looked at him as we came to the spot on a worn-down wharf where I thought we could sit. I stopped and sat down without warning, and he easily followed my lead.

"I dream of it. I literally dream of leaving all the time. It's always different circumstances. One night, I dream I take off on a train, like a hobo. And then the next, I dream I'm taking off onfoot. The one after that, I'm on a private jet. I'm really good at dreaming of leaving. But when it comes down to it… life doesn't get much more beautiful than this right here." I pointed at the creek. "I've seen all sorts of movies. I know what's out there, and I can appreciate how beautiful this is."

"It is a rare beauty," he said, looking out at our surroundings.

I caught sight of his profile as he gazed at the creek. His cheeks and jaw had a light dusting of facial hair. I just adored the way he looked. He smiled, and I could see his white, straight teeth. I wasn't sure if there could be a more perfect-looking man.

"It's nice to travel and experience new things, though. You should travel."

"Yeah, I do that through books. The internet a little, too, and TV, I guess, if that counts."

"I mean vacation—even a short trip. Drive over to Oregon or Washington and see the coast. Vancouver's nice."

I laughed at the thought of a casual trip to Vancouver. "I've never been any further than Philipsburg."

I didn't even leave Stanley's parsonage or the church until I was ten years old, and even then, it was to see a doctor in Philipsburg. I didn't tell Owen that, though. I knew that was odd, and I kept that to myself. I let out a sigh and regarded him, trying not to get distracted by his boyish good looks. He had a flawless face, though, and it was difficult to ignore. I caught myself thinking that he must have been a popular actor because of how very handsome he was. I never thought I was boy crazy, but it seemed as though I was turning over a new leaf in that regard. The shapes of his face could have been etched out of stone, like a work of art.

"You've never left Montana?" he asked.

"Yeah, I mean, no. I wasn't born here, but I haven't left in a long time. I don't, we don't… my mom raised me as a single mom, and she was poor. We relied on the kindness of others alot, especially Stanley, so a vacation… that wasn't ever on her list of priorities. For the last ten years, Stanley's health has been so bad that… no."

I stopped talking, realizing my life sounded more pitiful than it was.

Maybe it was pretty pitiful.

"So bad that what?" Owen asked.

"No, just nothing. Just that we need to be close in case anything would happen to Stanley."

I didn't like mentioning Stanley. I stared into Owen's blue eyes, wondering how in the world I ever got here. I smiled at him and shook my head a little.

"I'm actually just really grateful to grow up in such a beautiful place," I said. "I've seen enough of the world in pictures to know how special this is."

Both of us settled into a spot, and I reached into my bag to get the burritos. I turned to him with one in my hand. It was wrapped in thin foil like a professional burrito store. I had been making meal prep breakfast burritos for the last year, and I had my whole process down.

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