Free FutureImperfect by Stefan Petrucha Page A

and potted trees, but the crisscross shadows cast through the net lent the space a surreal air, making Tippicks feel as if he were in a giant bird cage.
    Seeing Tippicks stare up, Shinn explained, “It’s to prevent suicides.”
    â€œIt’s twenty feet up. Could someone really climb that high?”
    â€œYou’d be surprised what people are capable of,” Shinn answered. He turned his head back toward the door. Harry was being led inside, flanked by interns. “Even with a ton of meds in them. I often am.”
    The interns walked Harry to a wooden bench, sat him down, then stood on either side of the only exit. Harry remained motionless, except for the slight rising and falling of his shoulders that indicated he was breathing.
    Tippicks and Shinn walked over, Tippicks nearly tripping on his shoes as he went.
    â€œAre you all right?”
    â€œI’m having a bad day.”
    â€œNot as bad as our friend here, I hope.” Shinn knelt gently by Harry’s side. “Do you mind if I stay and listen, Mr. Keller?”
    Harry nodded. “Pretty much.”
    â€œOkay. That’s fine,” Shinn said with a smile. “I have to call an auto body service anyway and send your teacher here the bill.”
    On his way out, Shinn squeezed Tippicks’s arm and gave him a look, as if to say, You must tell me everything.
    After that, except for the two interns who stood mutely at their posts, they were alone.
    Tippicks sat on the far end of the bench, feeling how tired he was. The pain in his head had gathered toward the back of his skull, and though it wasn’t quiet as bad as it had been, it still pounded steadily. He saw the grease still on his hand, looked at the tear in his tweed jacket, and wondered how much of the world was made up of accidents.
    Steadying himself, he eyed the captive teen. “Harry, if you behave, they’ll take the jacket off.”
    â€œWorking on it,” Harry said. He smiled at Tippicks. “Thanks for coming. Why, uh, did you come, by the way?”
    Tippicks answered in a quiet voice, “Siara Warner came to see me yesterday.”
    Harry’s eyes widened. Tippicks thought he saw a bit of that old spark flare in the dark of his pupils.
    â€œShe’s all right? Was she with Jeremy Gronson?”
    â€œGronson? The football captain? No, she was alone,” Tippicks said. He eyed the interns before continuing. They seemed more interested in whatever their iPods were playing. “But she did have a lot to say about you. And about time.”
    Harry’s brow creased. “Siara…told you?”
    Tippicks exhaled. “My father stayed here a few years. They didn’t have this little courtyard back then.”
    He was surprised to see Harry nod. “Yeah, I know. He died here.”
    Tippicks eyed him. “How do you know that?”
    â€œI saw it once, while I was looking at you. I can see people’s…paths.”
    So the girl had been telling the truth, at least he couldn’t what she’d heard. But could it really be…? No, he couldn’t go there yet. There was no proof of it.
    â€œHarry, I was just a kid when my dad was here, but they let me visit him once or twice. Whenever I came, he told me the most amazing things, about all the places he’d gone, the times he’d seen, all over the world, all throughout history, without ever leaving his room.”
    Harry’s brow knitted.
    â€œBut my mother and the doctors told me he was sick, crazy. So as much as I loved him, I never believed a word of what he said.”
    The lines in Harry’s forehead went deeper. “Why?”
    Tippicks smiled sadly. “Because I thought he was crazy, too, I guess. He went on about it, so much so they decided a lobotomy might help, but he died during the procedure. They poked a blood vessel in his brain by accident and couldn’t stop the bleeding in time. As for me, well, as I grew older, I