Telephone pole #27 was a long-term resident in the Gailstown neighborhood, its surface studded with inelegant means to hold messages. Each bent and rusty nail had a story, long resolved and forgotten. This pole had seen thousands of suspended questions: Want some lemonade today? Need a roommate? And then one day–decades ago–a husband and wife posted: Have you seen eight-year-old Jane?
Lisa Whitman hurriedly walked her dog. The rain was coming heavy now, and she had two blocks to go. Her dog paused at the telephone pole, and Lisa called for him to come along. As she rested her fingers on the pole, a gust of wind wrenched her vintage Hungarian umbrella from her hand and propelled it right into the power lines above Lisa’s head.
From that moment, Lisa’s life was changed. For reason’s she’d probably never understand, her hand was synched with that pole. Every nail she dared to touch, every tack and staple, had a story. And Lisa could see each of them, unfolding in their day, just by reaching out her fingertips.
ABOUT- Ara Hagopian’s latest book is http://www.TheLeavesOfYouth.com