{"product_id":"bug-hollow-isbn-9780593834893","title":"Bug Hollow:A Novel","description":"“Perfectly captures the unpredictability of life . . . Right down to its final moments, Huneven casually offers up little revelations that crunch as sweet and tart as pomegranate seeds.”\u003cb\u003e —Ron Charles, \u003ci\u003eWashington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Instantly seduces even the most news-addled reader with its lovely, lucid prose, its spot-on period details and superb gift for description . . . Huneven remains a compassionate guide through the secrets and lies, betrayals and chance encounters, losses and disappointments that buffet this broken and remade family over time.\" \u003cb\u003e—Helen Schulman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times Book Review\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNamed a Best Book of the Year by Kirkus \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eOprah Daily\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eA decades-spanning family saga featuring the messy but loving Samuelson clan trying to make sense of the world after one event changes their lives forever\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen Sally Samuelson was eight years old, her golden boy brother, Ellis, went missing the summer he graduated from high school. Ellis finally turned up at the bucolic Bug Hollow, a last gasp of the beautiful Northern California counterculture of the seventies. He had found joy in the communal life there, but died in a freak accident weeks later.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFrom that point, the world of the Samuelsons never spins on the same axis, especially after Julia, Ellis’s girlfriend from Bug Hollow, shows up pregnant on their doorstep. Each Samuelson has sought their own solace: Sybil Samuelson pours herself into teaching and numbing her pain after the loss of her beloved son; her husband, Phil, had found respite in a love that developed while he was working as an engineer in Saudi Arabia; Katie, the high-achieving middle Samuelson, comes home to try and make peace with her mother after a cancer diagnosis. And Sally has become the de facto caretaker to Eva, the child Ellis never knew.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMichelle Huneven is “known for five enthralling novels, which chronicle the lives of middle-class Americans in her lushly conjured native California, as her characters struggle with addiction, excruciating romances, and resounding losses as they continue to seek meaning and a way to be good” (American Academy of Arts and Letters). She captures the Samuelson clan with glorious precision and the deepest empathy as they fracture and rebuild again and again. | “This book is beyond. I couldn’t stop reading. Insightful and tender, the story of a beautiful, broken and quirky family who feel utterly real. I didn’t want it to end.” \u003cb\u003e—Ericka Waller, author of \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eGoodbye Birdie Greenwing\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Bug Hollow\u003c\/i\u003e is wonderful. A moving portrait of an imperfect American family, this novel is a world I got lost in. I enjoyed it hugely.” —\u003cb\u003eJennie Godfrey, author of \u003ci\u003eThe List of Suspicious Things\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A wonderful novel. I enjoyed it so much.” \u003cb\u003e—Polly Samson, author of \u003ci\u003eA Theatre for Dreamers\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Michelle Huneven’s sixth novel, \u003ci\u003eBug Hollow\u003c\/i\u003e, instantly seduces even the most news-addled reader with its lovely, lucid prose, its spot-on period details (those pay phones!) and superb gift for description — of a sprawling cast led by a supportive engineer father, Phil, and a prickly elementary-school teacher mother, Sibyl; and especially of California’s many wildly differing landscapes…The novel evolves from its innocent opening into something more intriguing… the five-decade international saga that unfolds in 10 discrete but interwoven chapters, each narrated by a different member of the Samuelson family or its widening circle. Formally, the result is something like a narrative love child of Alice Munro’s novelistic short stories and Elizabeth Strout’s novels of interconnected short stories… Huneven is exceptionally generous with all of her characters — even the hard-to-bear Sibyl — and remains a compassionate guide through the secrets and lies, betrayals and chance encounters, losses and disappointments that buffet this broken and remade family over time.\" \u003cb\u003e—Helen Schulman, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003ePerfectly captures the unpredictability of life \u003c\/b\u003e. . . begins with a perfectly calibrated bit of domestic comedy set during a golden summer in the mid-1970s . . . Huneven knows just how to seduce us with this family’s adventures . . . With \u003cb\u003eextraordinary candor and tenderness\u003c\/b\u003e, Huneven shuffles through those raw months when hope feels like a cheat as the Samuelsons are unmade and remade by tragedy . . . Huneven dares us to get comfortable only to yank us years or thousands of miles away. The family that initially felt so shiny and self-contained gives way to individual stories that butt up against one another at skewed angles. It’s not confusing; it’s eye-opening. The very structure of \u003ci\u003eBug Hollow\u003c\/i\u003e reminds us that the smoothly progressive chapters of most novels are a fanciful creation of some chiropractic narrator who’s artificially aligned the disorder of actual lives. Here, the Samuelsons’ fates play out in ways that feel preposterous and completely believable . . . \u003cb\u003esuch graceful compression. Right down to its final moments, Huneven casually offers up little revelations that crunch as sweet and tart as pomegranate seeds\u003c\/b\u003e.” —\u003cb\u003eRon Charles, \u003ci\u003eWashington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Spellbinding . . . empathetic and propulsive.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBoston Globe\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Huneven does modern family like no one else.\u003ci\u003e” —\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eMarion Winik, \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eOprah Daily \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Not another novel about family dysfunction, secrets and lies. Rather, Huneven’s bighearted family is bound together by the power of love, and doing right by each other. In that way, \u003ci\u003eBug Hollow\u003c\/i\u003e is of a piece with Huneven’s previous work, in which seemingly incompatible characters reach out across social and cultural divides in a bid to grasp some measure of redemption and comity . . . taut and compressed.” —\u003cb\u003eMarc Weingarten, \u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“One of those gorgeous, sprawling family sagas I’m always desperately seeking (especially in the summer—nothing goes better with sand and sun than loving, multigenerational messiness). It’s also one of the most satisfying reading experiences I’ve had in a long time . . . It’s a novel that is hopeful without a trace of treacly fluff. Huneven has a knack for economical characterization—she makes more than a dozen points of view equally compelling and tender, with the expert deployment of the sulfurous smell of a hot spring, a marriage being saved by Dominoes. A thoroughly beautiful book.” —\u003cb\u003eJessie Gaynor, \u003ci\u003eLitHub\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Engaging and supremely satisfying . . . This is a novel to cherish, and Huneven a writer to deeply admire for her humanity and her grace.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBookPage\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This transcendent novel has all the virtues associated with Huneven: attention to detail and a glimpse at how complicated the very act of living is . . . Readers of Elizabeth Strout or Mary Gaitskill will love this book. Huneven hits it out of the ballpark again.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A gift: top-drawer fiction and a family story that speaks of the joys, sorrows, and surprising possibilities of human connection . . . Serendipitous meetings invite redos, showing the beauty of life’s circular nature. Readers will be charmed by a sense of nostalgia and interdependence that speaks to the best in humanity. Fans of Anne Tyler will enjoy Huneven’s strong sense of place, quirky menagerie of characters, and the intriguing, relevant issues the Samuelson family navigates through chapters of their life together.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Huneven is good at unlikable characters, making them fully three-dimensional while stopping far short of sappy redemption . . . A deeply satisfying novel; Huneven’s best work to date.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eKirkus\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Michelle Huneven gets under the skin and into the heart. Reading her is like calling your best friend for a long overdue catch up—confiding, clever and with the rush of connection that lucid, fine-tuned prose creates. Pages fly with phrasing so right it feels like you were born knowing it, and peopled with characters more real than seems possible. Michelle Huneven is sister in the blood to Ann Patchett, Anne Tyler and Tessa Hadley. If this is her sixth novel, I am in for the rest please.” —\u003cb\u003eRaffaella Barker, author of \u003ci\u003eFrom a Distance\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Phil and Sibyl Samuelson and their three children are at the center of this deeply satisfying novel, but Huneven's leaps through time and stories provide constant surprise and delights. The reader finds herself in the leafy green of California, then Saudi Arabia for a business trip, then by the side of an old woman who has unexpectedly fallen in love. We go into the cul-de-sacs of these characters' lives, experiencing moments they might not write down in their own biographies, but which shape them forever. Reading the novel feels like watching a master painter at work: color is laid down, forms emerge, and then at the end your breath is taken away, because it has all come together.” —\u003cb\u003eAnn Napolitano, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author of \u003ci\u003eHello Beautiful\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Michelle Huneven’s wondrous and intimate journey of the Samuelson family embedded me with their deepest secrets, greatest loves, epic heartbreaks, and a grief that touched them all for generations. Huneven’s piercing observations of moments big and small left me feeling not just their witness, but more a distant relative emotionally invested in their outcome. I’m going to carry the Samuelsons in my heart for a very long time.” —\u003cb\u003eGriffin Dunne, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Friday Afternoon Club\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Bug Hollow \u003c\/i\u003ecrackles with compassion and propulsion, offering the layered and propulsive pleasures of the long view—the evolving fortunes and dynamics of a family across decades—without ever surrendering the texture of their days or the pulse of their trippy hearts, their capacity to surprise themselves and us. I inhaled this book in a weekend, grateful to feel it simmering and swirling inside me, regretting only that it would ever end. Michelle Huneven is a treasure, and \u003ci\u003eBug Hollow \u003c\/i\u003egives us the song of her sentences and the glorious telescope of her attention with a whittled, nimble intensity that took my breath away.” —\u003cb\u003eLeslie Jamison, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Empathy Exams\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Michelle Huneven is such an elegant, watchful writer, and she has immense love and compassion for her characters. This is a novel that lays bare the tenderness of the world, exploring its breadth and smallness at once. I adored it.” \u003ci\u003e—\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eClaire Lombardo, author of \u003ci\u003eSame as it Ever Was\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eBug Hollow\u003c\/i\u003e is a deeply immersive novel about a middle class, Californian family, with its closely held secrets, loves and tragedy. With the breadth of Elizabeth Jane Howard’s \u003ci\u003eCazalet Chronicles\u003c\/i\u003e and the intimate ironic pleasures of Barbara Pym, Huneven spans the American century and at the center is a mysterious woman; brilliant, mean, held back by her time, harsh, and beloved. I couldn’t put it down.”\u003cb\u003e —Mona Simpson, author of \u003ci\u003eCommitment\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e | \u003cb\u003eMichelle Huneven \u003c\/b\u003eis the author of \u003ci\u003eRound Rock\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eJamesland\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eBlame\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eOff Course,\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSearch\u003c\/i\u003e. Her books have been New York Times Notable Books and finalists for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award. She is the recipient of a Whiting Award for Fiction, a Guggenheim Fellowship, a James Beard Award, and a Literature Award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She received her master’s in fine arts from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and teaches creative writing at the University of California, Los Angeles. | \u003cb\u003eBug Hollow\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe summer when Sally Samuelson was eight, her brother Ellis graduated from high school and a few days later, he and his best friends, Heck Stevens and Ben Klosterman, drove up the coast in Heck's '64 Rambler American. They promised to be back in a week. Sally was the only one who went outside to see them off. She waved a dishrag and dabbed at pretend tears, then one or two real ones. \"Bye, little Pips!\" Ellis yelled from the back seat-he called her Pipsqueak, with variations. \"See you in the funny papers!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEllis had thick, curly yellow hair long enough to tuck behind his ears and he wore a baseball cap to keep it there. He'd lately grown incredibly tall and skinny; his pants rode so low on his hip bones, they seemed about to slip off. Sally's sister, Katie, who was fourteen, called him El Greck after they saw El Greco's \u003ci\u003eChrist on the Cross \u003c\/i\u003eat the Getty; even their parents confirmed the resemblance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHis last two years in high school, Ellis had a girlfriend named Carla, who was also tall and blond and liked to show off her stomach. In front of Ellis, she would say hi to Sally. Sometimes Ellis would come into Sally's room when she was drawing on the floor; he'd sit by her and talk about his last baseball game or his weird calculus teacher, and sometimes he'd wonder how much he liked Carla and if she was even nice. Sally somehow knew not to say what she thought. Anyway, Ellis spent most of his time playing ball with Ben and Heck. For their trip, they packed Heck's old Rambler with sleeping bags, the small smelly tent the Samuelson kids used on camping trips, and a cooler full of sodas. After ten days, when Ellis hadn't come back, Heck showed up at the Samuelsons' front door with the tent. Sally answered his knock.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Ellis decided to stay away for a few more days,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Stay where?\" Sally's mother said from behind her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"With some girl he met,\" said Heck. \"Not sure where, exactly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Well, where did they meet?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"On a beach around Santa Cruz.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat was all her mother could get out of Heck. \"Some girl has snagged Ellis,\" she told Sally's father when he came home from work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Good for her,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"How can you say that, Phil?\" her mother cried. \"El's such an innocent. What if she's trouble?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHinky, their Manchester terrier, cocked her head at one parent, then the other; she followed conversations-they'd tested her by standing in a circle and tossing the conversation back and forth. Hinky shifted her attention to each speaker in turn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What if he doesn't come back in time for his job?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEllis was supposed to be a counselor at the day camp he'd attended since first grade.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Let's worry about that when the time comes,\" Sally's father said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe camp's start date came and went. Carla showed up one night after dinner and wept noisily on their sofa. She also hadn't heard from Ellis. \"He was supposed to come with me to my cousin's wedding,\" she wailed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I knew we shouldn't have let him go off like that,\" Sally's mother said after Carla left. \"One fast girl on a beach and he's a goner!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I'm sure he's fine,\" Sally's father said. \"It's high time he gave us something to worry about.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEllis was a straight-A student and a star pitcher, and had a perfect score on the math SAT. He always set the table, and never shut his door, even when Carla or his friends were over. Alone, he listened to sports or studied. He loved baseball above everything and turned down Cal and the University of Chicago when UC San Diego and Ole Miss offered him full baseball scholarships. Their parents regarded the South with what Ellis had called \"irrational liberal loathing\" and tried to talk him into San Diego. He chose Mississippi.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"What if this girl's a Moonie?\" Sally's mother said. \"What if he can't get home? He only had seventy dollars.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHinky looked from one parent to the other.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Hell, I was younger than he is with only a quarter to my name and I hopped freights all across the country,\" her father said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh for god's sake, Phil. Don't start,\" her mother said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt sixteen, Sally's father had ridden boxcars from Denver to Boston. He told stories of his hobo days so often that her mother now refused to hear them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA postcard came showing Monterey Bay.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDear Mom and Dad, Katie, Peeps, and Hinky,\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eHope you're all well. I'm doing great! I've decided to spend the summer up here. I have a wonderful place to stay and a job. I'll call soon.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eLove, E.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEvery time the phone rang, everyone froze, then Sally's parents raced to the extensions, with Hinky leaping and barking. \u003ci\u003eAnswer! Get the phone! It might be him!\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe family was supposed to go car camping on the Oregon coast, but now they couldn't, in case Ellis called.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSally's father went to work in a suit; he was a project manager at Parsons Engineering. Sometimes, he went to Argentina or Saudi Arabia for a few weeks, but he'd put off his next trip till they knew more about Ellis. Her mother taught fourth grade and had the summer off. She lay out on a chaise in shorts and a halter top getting very tan, reading mystery novels, and drinking Hawaiian Punch from a green plastic tumbler. When it got too hot, she moved inside to her bedroom. Sally would peek in at her. \"Stop lurking, Sally,\" she'd say.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie stayed in her room and read books except when she practiced piano or went over to her friend Christine's house.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSally drew pictures in her room or went to play under a row of shaggy eucalyptus trees on the corner of their block. She and a neighborhood girl had built a village of tiny bark huts with a network of tunnels below, digging until their gritty fingers tangled underground. Because the neighbor girl was older, she no longer came as much, so alone, Sally maintained the village, which was often scattered. At dusk, when someone bawled her name, she'd go home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer mother was at the grocery store when Ellis phoned. Katie was practicing scales on the piano, and Socorro, their housekeeper, was vacuuming. Belly-flopped and coloring on her bedroom floor, Sally was the only person who heard the phone ring. She answered the hall extension.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Is that you, Pips? How you doing?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"It's Ellis!\" she screamed down the hall. \"ELLL-ISSSS!\" Then, into the phone, \"Are you coming home?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Not yet. But tell me, Pips. How mad are Mom and Dad?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Pretty mad.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Is Mom there?\" Ellis asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"She's at the store. Hold on.\" She yelled, \"Katie!\" at the top of her voice. \"She can't hear me,\" she told Ellis.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"That's okay, Pips. Just tell me, what do Mom and Dad say about me?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSally sat on the floor. Hinky planted herself in front of her. Being the one to talk to Ellis felt too important. \"Mom thinks you've been kidnapped, and Dad thinks you're having fun.\" She tried to ESP with Katie\u003ci\u003e-Come here now\u003c\/i\u003e!-but Katie's fingers kept cantering up and down the keys. Sally thought of running to get her, but what if Ellis hung up? Her parents hadn't said what to do if he called when they weren't there. \"They really want you to come home, El,\" she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I can't. I have great job. Guess what it is, Peeps. I work in an ice cream shop.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Oh.\" She touched Hinky's curved black toenails.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"And the place I live? There's a swimming hole just out the back door. But real quick, Peeps. How're you and Katie? And Hinky?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Hinky's right here,\" Sally said. \"Say hi.\" She held the receiver to Hinky's ear until her little black brow wrinkled. \"Just come home, El,\" Sally said into the mouthpiece. \"Mom's getting mean. And we can't go camping. . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA clatter of tumbling coins and an operator's canned voice said, \u003ci\u003eThree minutes\u003c\/i\u003e. \"Got to go,\" Ellis said. \"Tell Mom and Dad not to worry. I love you, Pips.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eLove?\u003c\/i\u003e When had Ellis ever said he loved her or anyone? (Maybe he'd said it to Carla but Sally never heard.) In their family they never said I love you to each other. If Sally kissed or hugged her mother, she would draw back and say, \"What brought this on?\" Sally smoothed Hinky's ears back and kissed the two tan dots of her eyebrows. When the front door whined open and she heard the rustle of grocery bags, Sally ran into the kitchen. \"He called! He called!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer mother sat on a kitchen barstool still holding a bag in her arms. Hinky leapt around her. \"Is he all right? What did he say? Did you get his number?\" she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"He works in an ice cream store,\" Sally panted. \"He says don't worry.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"So where is he?\" her mother said, still embracing the sack. \"Did you find out?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie came into the kitchen. \"What's up?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Is he coming home? What about college? Did you ask him \u003ci\u003eanything\u003c\/i\u003e?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSally stood there.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Goddamn it, Sally. What's wrong with you?\" Her mother heaved the sack of groceries off her lap. A muffled crack, and a pale pink liquid leaked through the bag and spread on the kitchen floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie left the room. Sally began to cry. Hinky leapt on her mother's lap, but she pushed her off. Sally ran out of the house then, and around the corner to the eucalyptus trees. She curled against one shaggy trunk and vowed never to go home. She'd steal towels off the neighbors' clothesline for blankets and live on the pomegranates and guavas growing in the abandoned sanitorium up the street. Sleepy from crying, she pulled a large shard of bark over her face to make it dark. She woke when Hinky pawed her shoulder. Her father lifted the bark off her face. \"Come on now, Sally,\" he said. \"Let's go home.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDear Mom and Dad,\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI hope Pips told you that I'm doing great and not to worry. I've decided to spend the summer here in a big house with eight other people. The rent is very cheap. We take turns cooking. I'll make my famous tofu-mushroom burgers for you someday. My job is a lot of fun and my boss already wants me to be manager. I told him no because of Ole Miss-and yes, I am training every day. A girl here has a great arm and catches everything I send her way.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI would say where I am, but you might come and try to take me home. I'm extremely happy here, so please don't worry. I'll be back in time for college.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI think of all of you all the time. Tell the Hink that the dogs here are big galumphing woodsy dogs and not prancy-dancy smartypants like her.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI'll call soon.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eMuch Love to Everyone,\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eEllis\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMuch Love! Again, Sally had never heard him say that to anybody before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie said he had to be in a cult, because he had to be brainwashed to cook. The Ellis they knew ate Pop-Tarts right out of the box because he was too lazy to toast them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTheir mother said, \"Not sure a cult would let him take a job out in public. But something's fishy.\" Their father said nonsense, that Ellis was separating, which was natural. \"He's making his way in the world.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCarla must have gotten a letter too because she came over and cried again.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEllis's letter had a postmark: Los Altos, CA. Sally's father phoned the sheriff's office there, but they wouldn't look for Ellis-this was in the mid-1970s and there were far too many runaways for law enforcement to take on. A desk sergeant told Sally's father to run a classified ad in the local small-town papers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eMissing since June:\u003c\/b\u003e Our son, Ellis Samuelson, 17 years old, 6'2'', blond hair, brown eyes, athletic, smart, funny, and greatly missed. Reward.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe ad went in six different small-town papers, and now when the phone rang it was even more of a shock. Sally's mother wept to her best friend. \"We're on pins and needles here!\"  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSally's mother had become a yanker: She yanked the phone when she answered it; she yanked open doors and drawers to rummage madly, then slammed them shut. She yanked Sally into the car, to the table, away from the comics display at the market. Sometimes, she yanked Sally to her and held her, kissing her head and wetting her hair with tears. Blue bruises in the shape of her fingertips dappled Sally's upper arms.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eKatie said, \"Just stay out of her way.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut Sally couldn't. She had to see where her mother was, and if she was okay. Now, her mother refused to leave the house in case Ellis called, so Sally's father did the shopping, and the fridge filled with new brands of cheese, lunch meat, mayonnaise, juice. The fancier brands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTwo days after Ellis's eighteenth birthday on August 8 this came:  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDear Mom and Dad, Katie, Pips, and Hinky,\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI saw your ad in the paper. Please don't do that again. It embarrassed me. I'm eighteen now and can live where I want. I miss you too. Please don't worry about me. And don't try to come get me because I really can't leave till Aug. 25 because\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e1. I promised my boss I'd stay till then.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e2. I am saving money for school and won't hit my goal till then.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e3. I am very happy in this house with my friends and the dogs.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e4. I am training very well. I now run an eight-minute mile. Flat. Everyone in the house comes out for pitching and batting practice every night.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eI'm sorry to worry you and hope you aren't too mad at me, but I am really truly okay and happier than I have ever been.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003ePlease pet Hinks for me. I'll see you soon. I love you all very much!\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eEllis\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I don't understand why we just don't drive up there and go to every ice cream store we can find,\" Sally's mother said at the dinner table.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I would if I felt he was in danger,\" her father said. \"And he's right: he can live wherever he wants now.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You just won't lift a finger,\" her mother said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe air stilled. Sally studied the tiny beige, tan, and white hexagons in the Formica tabletop until her father said, \"Here, Sally, let's finish these tater tots.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA woman phoned at dinnertime. She’d been wrapping china in newspaper and happened to read the missing-persons ad. She was Ellis’s neighbor in the woods near Boulder Creek in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Ellis-”a darling boy”-had done some weed whacking for her. She supplied an address-”I have a son myself, so I know,” she said-and refused the reward.","brand":"Penguin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48759441326309,"sku":"NP9780593834893","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593834893.jpg?v=1775598563","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/bug-hollow-isbn-9780593834893","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}