Free I Kill the Mockingbird by Paul Acampora Page A

hero! He’s an author and an actor.He used to be on Star Trek !”
    I point at the description that Wil Wheaton has written about himself. “It says here that he’s just a guy.”
    “Just a guy who used to be on Star Trek !” says Michael.
    I study the profile page more closely. “This guy has two-and-a-half million followers online!”
    “Did I mention the Star Trek ?” Michael asks.
    “You mentioned it,” I say.
    “How did we get an I Kill theMockingbird poster aboard the starship Enterprise ?” asks Elena.
    “We should reply,” I say.
    Michael’s mouth drops open. “To Wil Wheaton?”
    “To everybody.”
    “That’s why it’s called social networking,” adds Elena.
    “What would we say?” asks Michael.
    “Thank you?” I suggest.
    Elena thinks for a moment. “Now that people have noticed us, we’ve got to keep it going.”
    Outside, the sun is heading towardthe horizon. A sliver of orange moon floats high in the summer sky. In the distance, red and white lights atop giant broadcast antennas blink on and off like gods that do not know we exist. I want people to know that we exist. “We can share the list of places that we’ve hit so far,” I suggest.
    “Do you want to get caught?” asks Michael.
    “Or,” I say, “we can list all our targets whether we’vehit them or not. We want people to know that I Kill the Mockingbird is big—”
    “—and that it’s coming to your town soon!” says Elena.
    Michael shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    Elena and I push him away from the computer then open the document containing our roster of Connecticut libraries, retailers, and booksellers. With a couple quick clicks, Elena pastes the list onto anew page called OUR TARGETS.
    “Thanks for considering my input,” says Michael.
    “We considered it,” says Elena. “And then we rejected it.”
    On the record player, a new song begins to play. According to the singer, he’s been down so long that up don’t make sense no more.
    “From now on,” Elena continues, “we reply to every note, every comment, and every tweet, and on all those replies, we add alink back to the OUR TARGETS page. We never say what the list is for. We never communicate directly with any of the targets. We just make sure that people know about it. Pretty soon they’ll start thinking that they are all part of the conspiracy.”
    Michael throws his hands in the air. “Since it’s just a list, why limit it to Connecticut? Why not tell the whole country that we’re coming to getthem?”
    Elena and I both get stunned looks on our faces. “That’s a great idea!” I say.
    “I was kidding!” he says.
    “If we’re lucky,” I say, “people will start to believe that this is huge!”
    “What if we’re not lucky?” asks Michael.
    “The only way this thing works is if we get noticed,” I tell him.
    “We are creating a monster,” Michael says.
    Elena hunches over and rubs her hands together. “Butit will be a very good monster!”
    Michael shakes his head. I laugh out loud. “You sound like Dr. Frankenstein,” I say to Elena.
    “No,” Elena replies. “This is what Dr. Frankenstein sounds like.” She stands on her chair, pulls her hair into a crazy mess, and then screeches in her best horror movie voice, “IT’S ALIVE!”
    “God help us,” says Michael.
    Elena goes back to the computer and starts totype. Michael and I stand behind her and read the various comments. Without thinking, I reach over and take Michael’s hand in my own. “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “It’s going to be all right.”
    Michael doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t pull away so we stand there, hand in hand, for a very long time. “Okay,” he finally says to me. “I’ll believe you.”

 
    13
    Patron Saint of the Blind
     
    Less than twenty-four hours later, I’m the one saying my prayers. This time, I’m making my appeal to the tiny plastic St. Lucy statue that Dad keeps on the television set in our