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I am sorry, I said, that I wasn't clearer. Don't touch my fucking zippo, Joe. Eventually, these people are all going to go away and you'll be left alone. Do you understand?
My aunt squeezed my leg, so I didn't say everything I wanted to.
She is really nice. I mean, my aunt is one of the kindest people in the world, I think. She must be. When we got back to the house, she said she was sorry that things had happened that way, with my dad dying, and with my mom going away, but that stabbing somebody wouldn't fix it. She understood the sentiment, she did. Also, she didn't care that I couldn't go back to that school. She would find another school that would take me. The thing she was most glad about was: the police weren't involved. Probably the school had wanted to avoid a scandal. But, a person only gets so many chances.
Excerpted from How to Set a Fire and Why by Jesse Ball. Copyright © 2016 by Jesse Ball. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
The good writer, the great writer, has what I have called the three S's: The power to see, to sense, and to say. ...
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