{"id":2141,"date":"2009-08-11T01:25:10","date_gmt":"2009-08-11T06:25:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=2141"},"modified":"2009-08-10T21:56:26","modified_gmt":"2009-08-11T02:56:26","slug":"june-bug-by-chris-fabry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=2141","title":{"rendered":"June Bug by Chris Fabry"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> <\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Chris Fabry<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

June Bug<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Tyndale House Publishers (July 9, 2009)<\/p>\n

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

\"\"<\/a>Chris Fabry is a native of West Virginia who hosts the daily program Chris Fabry Live! on Moody Radio. He and his wife, Andrea, are the parents of nine children. Chris is the author of Dogwood, his first novel for adults, and co-author of Jim Tressel\u2019s New York Times best-selling The Winners Manual. Chris has also published more than sixty other books, including many novels for children and young adults.<\/p>\n

Visit the author’s website<\/a>.
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\nProduct Details:<\/p>\n

List Price: $13.99
\nPaperback: 336 pages
\nPublisher: Tyndale House Publishers (July 9, 2009)
\nLanguage: English
\nISBN-10: 1414319568
\nISBN-13: 978-1414319568<\/p>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong>
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Some people know every little thing about themselves, like how much they weighed when they were born and how long they were from head to toe and which hospital their mama gave birth to them in and stuff like that. I\u2019ve heard that some people even have a black footprint on a pink sheet of paper they keep in a baby box. The only box I have is a small suitcase that snaps shut where I keep my underwear in so only I can see it.<\/p>\n

My dad says there\u2019s a lot of things people don\u2019t need and that their houses get cluttered with it and they store it in basements that flood and get ruined, so it\u2019s better to live simple and do what you want rather than get tied down to a mortgage\u2014whatever that is. I guess that\u2019s why we live in an RV. Some people say \u201clive out of,\u201d but I don\u2019t see how you can live out of something when you\u2019re living inside it and that\u2019s what we do. Daddy sleeps on the bed by the big window in the back, and I sleep in the one over the driver\u2019s seat. You have to remember not to sit up real quick in the morning or you\u2019ll have a headache all day, but it\u2019s nice having your own room.<\/p>\n

I believed everything my daddy told me until I walked into Walmart and saw my picture on a poster over by the place where the guy with the blue vest stands. He had clear tubes going into his nose, and a hiss of air came out every time he said, \u201cWelcome to Walmart.\u201d<\/p>\n

My eyes were glued to that picture. I didn\u2019t hear much of anything except the lady arguing with the woman at the first register over a return of some blanket the lady swore she bought there. The Walmart lady\u2019s voice was getting all trembly. She said there was nothing she could do about it, which made the customer woman so mad she started cussing and calling the woman behind the counter names that probably made people blush.<\/p>\n

The old saying is that the customer is always right, but I think it\u2019s more like the customer is as mean as a snake sometimes. I\u2019ve seen them come through the line and stuff a bunch of things under their carts where the cashier won\u2019t see it and leave without paying. Big old juice boxes and those frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Those look good but Daddy says if you have to freeze your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, then something has gone wrong with the world, and I think he\u2019s right. He says it\u2019s a sin to be mean to workers at Walmart because they let us use their parking lot. He also says that when they start putting vitamins and minerals in Diet Coke the Apocalypse is not far behind. I don\u2019t know what the Apocalypse is, but I wouldn\u2019t be surprised if he was right about that too.<\/p>\n

You can\u2019t know the feeling of seeing your picture on a wall inside a store unless it has happened to you, and I have to believe I am in a small group of people on the planet. It was all I could do to just suck in a little air and keep my heart beating because I swear I could feel it slow down to almost nothing. Daddy says a hummingbird\u2019s heart beats something like a million times a minute. I was the opposite of a hummingbird, standing there with my eyes glued to that picture. Some people going outside had to walk around me to the Exit doors, but I couldn\u2019t move. I probably looked strange\u2014just a girl staring at the Picture Them Home shots with an ache or emptiness down deep that I can\u2019t tell anybody about. It\u2019s like trying to tell people what it feels like to have your finger smashed in a grocery cart outside when it\u2019s cold. It doesn\u2019t do any good to tell things like that. Nobody would listen anyway because they\u2019re in a hurry to get back to their houses with all the stuff in them and the mortgage to pay, I guess.<\/p>\n

The photo wasn\u2019t exactly me. It was \u201clike\u201d me, almost like I was looking in a mirror. On the left was a real picture of me from when I was little. I\u2019d never seen a picture like that because my dad says he doesn\u2019t have any of them. I\u2019ve gone through his stuff, and unless he\u2019s got a really good hiding place, he\u2019s telling the truth. On the right side was the picture of what I would look like now, which was pretty close to the real me. The computer makes your face fuzzy around the nose and the eyes, but there was no mistake in my mind that I was looking at the same face I see every morning in the rearview.<\/p>\n

The girl\u2019s name was Natalie Anne Edwards, and I rolled it around in my head as the people wheeled their carts past me to get to the Raisin Bran that was two for four dollars in the first aisle by the pharmacy. I\u2019d seen it for less, so I couldn\u2019t see the big deal.<\/p>\n

Natalie Anne Edwards<\/p>\n

DOB: June 20, 2000 Age Now: 9<\/p>\n

Missing Date: June 16, 2002 Sex: Female<\/p>\n

Estimated Height: 4’3″ (130 cm) Estimated Weight: 80 lbs (36 kg)<\/p>\n

Eyes: Blue Hair: Red<\/p>\n

Race: White<\/p>\n

Missing From: Dogwood, WV<\/p>\n

United States<\/p>\n

Natalie\u2019s photo is shown age progressed to 9 years. She is missing from Dogwood, West Virginia. She has a dark birthmark on her left cheek. She was taken on June 16, 2002, by an unknown abductor.<\/p>\n

I felt my left cheek and the birthmark there. Daddy says it looks a little like some guy named Nixon who was president before he was born, but I try not to look at it except when I\u2019m in the bathroom or when I have my mirror out in bed and I\u2019m using my flashlight. I\u2019ve always wondered if the mark was the one thing my mother gave me or if there was anything she cared to give me at all. Daddy doesn\u2019t talk much about her unless I get to nagging him, and then he\u2019ll say something like, \u201cShe was a good woman,\u201d and leave it at that. I\u2019ll poke around a little more until he tells me to stop it. He says not to pick at things or they\u2019ll never get better, but some scabs call out to you every day.<\/p>\n

I kept staring at the picture and my name, the door opening and closing behind me and a train whistle sounding in the distance, which I think is one of the loneliest sounds in the world, especially at night with the crickets chirping. My dad says he loves to go to sleep to the sound of a train whistle because it reminds him of his childhood.<\/p>\n

The guy with the tubes in his nose came up behind me. \u201cYou all right, little girl?\u201d<\/p>\n

It kind of scared me\u2014not as much as having to go over a bridge but pretty close. I don\u2019t know what it is about bridges. Maybe it\u2019s that I\u2019m afraid the thing is going to collapse. I\u2019m not really scared of the water because my dad taught me to swim early on. There\u2019s just something about bridges that makes me quiver inside, and that\u2019s why Daddy told me to always crawl up in my bed and sing \u201cI\u2019ll Fly Away,\u201d which is probably my favorite song. He tries to warn me in advance of big rivers like the Mississippi when we\u2019re about to cross them or he\u2019ll get an earful of screams.<\/p>\n

I nodded to the man with the tubes and left, but I couldn\u2019t help glancing back at myself. I walked into the bathroom and sat in the stall awhile and listened to the speakers and the tinny music. Then I thought, The paper says my birthday is June 20, but Daddy says it\u2019s April 9. Maybe it\u2019s not really me.<\/p>\n

When I went back out and looked again, there was no doubt in my mind. That was me up there behind the glass. And I couldn\u2019t figure out a good way to ask Daddy why he had lied to me or why he called me June Bug instead of Natalie Anne. In the books I read and the movies I\u2019ve seen on DVD\u2014back when we had a player that worked\u2014there\u2019s always somebody at the end who comes out and says, \u201cI love you\u201d and makes everything all right. I wonder if that\u2019ll ever happen to me. I guess there\u2019s a lot of people who want somebody to tell them, \u201cI love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wandered to electronics and the last aisle where they have stereos and headsets and stuff. I wasn\u2019t searching for anything in particular, just piddling around, trying to get that picture out of my head.<\/p>\n

Three girls ran back to the same aisle and pawed through the flip-flops.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is going to be so much fun!\u201d a girl with two gold rings on her fingers said. \u201cI think Mom will let me sleep over at your house tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t,\u201d the one with long brown hair said. \u201cI\u2019ve got swim practice early in the morning.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can sleep over at my house,\u201d the third one said almost in a whine, like she was pleading for something she knew she wouldn\u2019t get. She wore glasses and weighed about as much as a postage stamp. \u201cI don\u2019t have to do anything tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gold Rings ignored her and pulled out a pair of pink shoes with green and yellow circles. The price said $13.96. \u201cThese will be perfect\u2014don\u2019t you think?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom said to find ones that are cheap and plain so we can decorate them,\u201d Brown Hair said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about tomorrow night?\u201d Gold Rings said. \u201cWe could rent a movie and sleep over at my house. You don\u2019t have swim practice Thursday, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n

They talked and giggled and moved on down the aisle, and I wondered what it would be like to have a friend ask you to sleep over. Or just to have a friend. Living on the road in a rolling bedroom has its advantages, but it also has its drawbacks, like never knowing where you\u2019re going to be from one day to the next. Except when your RV breaks down and you can\u2019t find the right part for it, which is why we\u2019ve been at this same Walmart a long time.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou still here, girl?\u201d someone said behind me.<\/p>\n

I turned to see the lady with the blue vest and a badge that said Assistant Manager. The three girls must have picked up their flip-flops and ran because when I looked back around they were gone. The lady\u2019s hair was blonde, a little too blonde, but she had a pretty face that made me think she might have won some beauty contest in high school. Her khaki pants were a little tight, and she wore white shoes that didn\u2019t make any noise at all when she walked across the waxed floor, which was perfect when she wanted to sneak up on three girls messing with the flip-flops.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid your dad get that part he was looking for?\u201d she said, bending down.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, ma\u2019am, not yet.\u201d There was almost something kind in her eyes, like I could trust her with some deep, dark secret if I had one. Then I remembered I did have one, but I wasn\u2019t about to tell the first person I talked to about my picture.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt must be hard being away from your family. Where\u2019s your mama?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have one.\u201d<\/p>\n

She turned her head a little. \u201cYou mean she passed?\u201d<\/p>\n

I shrugged. \u201cI just don\u2019t have one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone has a mama. It\u2019s a fact of life.\u201d She sat on a stool used when you try on the shoes and I saw myself in the mirror at the bottom. I couldn\u2019t help thinking about the picture at the front of the store and that the face belonged to someone named Natalie Anne.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you two on a trip? Must be exciting traveling in that RV. I\u2019ve always wanted to take off and leave my troubles behind.\u201d<\/p>\n

When I didn\u2019t say anything, she looked at the floor and I could see the dark roots. She smelled pretty, like a field of flowers in spring. And her fingernails were long and the tips white.<\/p>\n

She touched a finger to an eye and tried to get at something that seemed to be bothering her. \u201cMy manager is a good man, but he can get cranky about things. He mentioned your RV and said it would need to be moved soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Daddy said you\u2019d let us park as long as we needed.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded. \u201cNow don\u2019t worry. This is all going to work out. Just tell your dad to come in and talk with me, okay? The corporate policy is to let people . . .\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t know what a corporate policy was, and I was already torn up about finding out my new name, so I didn\u2019t pay much attention to the rest of what she had to say. Then she looked at me with big brown eyes that I thought would be nice to say good night to, and I noticed she didn\u2019t wear a wedding ring. I didn\u2019t used to notice things like that, but life can change you.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe you could come out and talk to him,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

She smiled and then looked away. \u201cWhat did you have for supper tonight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe didn\u2019t really have anything. He gave me a few dollars to get Subway, but I\u2019m tired of those.\u201d<\/p>\n

She touched my arm. \u201cIt\u2019ll be all right. Don\u2019t you worry. My name\u2019s Sheila. What\u2019s yours?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJune Bug,\u201d I said. For the first time in my life I knew I was lying about my name.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Johnson stared at the sun through the rear window. Pollen from the pine trees and dirt from a morning rain streaked it yellow and brown in a haphazard design. Three Mexicans climbed out of a Ford. Tools piled in the back of the truck and compost and some black tarp. One slapped another on the back and dust flew up. Another knocked the guy\u2019s hat off and they laughed.<\/p>\n

The sun was at the trees on the top of the nearby mountain, then in them, and going down fast. An orange glow settled in and Johnson\u2019s stomach growled. He glanced across the parking lot at the neon liquor store sign next to the Checker Auto Parts, and his throat parched.<\/p>\n

A newer RV, a Monaco Camelot, had parked at the end of the lot, and the owner pulled a shade at the front windshield for privacy. He wondered what driving one of those would be like. How much mileage it would get per gallon. The smooth ride on the road. Almost looked like a rolling hotel.<\/p>\n

He sat up and looked out the front of the RV. The way they were parked gave him a good view of the store\u2019s entrance. An old guy with an oxygen tank pushed two carts inside. The man smiled and greeted a mom and her children.<\/p>\n

Johnson hit the down arrow on his laptop. One green light on the wireless network from the coffee shop. He wished he had parked closer to the end of the lot, but he hadn\u2019t planned on getting stuck here.<\/p>\n

A loud knock at the door, like he\u2019d just run over someone\u2019s dog and it was under the back tire yelping. Johnson moved slowly, but he was agile in his bare feet. He caught a glimpse of the guy in the right mirror. Blue vest. Portly. Maybe thirty but not much older. Probably got the job through someone he knew. Johnson opened the door and nodded at the man.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust wondering how long you\u2019re thinking of staying,\u201d the man said. There was an edge to his voice, like he was nervous about something.<\/p>\n

Johnson stepped down onto the asphalt that was still warm from the sun but not unbearable. \u201cLike I said, I\u2019m waiting on a part. If I could get out of here, believe me I\u2019d be long gone.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man looked at the ground. \u201cWell, you\u2019ll have to move on. It\u2019s been\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThree weeks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014three weeks and it could be three more before whatever part you\u2019re looking for comes, so I think it\u2019s best you move on.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd how do you want me to move it? Push it to the interstate?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can call a tow truck.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnson looked away. Boy Scouts at the Entrance sign were selling lightbulbs. Pink and orange clouds had turned blue, like something was roiling on the other side of the mountain. A black-and-white police car pulled into the parking lot and passed them. The man in the vest waved and the officer returned it.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll give you one more night,\u201d the manager said. \u201cIf you\u2019re not out of here by morning, I\u2019m calling the towing company.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnson wanted to say something more, but he just pursed his lips and nodded and watched the man waddle, pigeon-toed, back to the store.<\/p>\n

The girl came out and passed the manager, smiling and swinging a blue bag. She had a new spiral notebook inside. She\u2019d filled more of those things than he could count, and it didn\u2019t look like she was slowing down.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you get your work done?\u201d she said as she bounded in and tossed the bag on her bed.<\/p>\n

Johnson opened the fridge and took out a warm can of Dr Pepper. \u201cEnough.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did the manager guy want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe said we\u2019d won a shopping spree.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe did not.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnson took a long pull from the can and belched. \u201cHe was just wondering how long we\u2019d be here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI met a friend,\u201d the girl said, her face shining. \u201cShe\u2019s really nice. And pretty. And I don\u2019t think she\u2019s married. And she has the most beautiful eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJune Bug, the last thing we need is somebody with her eyes on this treasure.\u201d He spread his arms out in the RV. \u201cWhat woman could resist this castle?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s not after your treasure. She just cares about us. She said the manager guy was getting upset that we\u2019ve been here so long. Is that what he told you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNah, this is a big parking lot. We\u2019re gonna be fine. Did you get something to eat?\u201d<\/p>\n

June Bug shook her head and climbed up to her bed. \u201cAlmost finished with my last journal. I want to start a new one tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you put in those things? What kind of stuff do you write down?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know. Just things that seem important. Places we\u2019ve been. It\u2019s sort of like talking to a friend who won\u2019t tell your secrets.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat kind of secrets?\u201d<\/p>\n

She slipped off her plastic shoes and let them fall to the floor, then opened the bag and took out a dark green notebook. \u201cWhen you tell me what you\u2019re writing about on that computer, I\u2019ll tell you what\u2019s in my notebooks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Johnson smiled and took another drink from the can, then tossed it in the trash.<\/p>\n

At the storefront, the police car had stopped and the manager leaned over the open window.<\/p>\n

Excerpted from June Bug by Chris Fabry. Copyright \u00a9 2009 by Chris Fabry. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.<\/p><\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n

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“Anybody can be a sperm donor or give birth to a child, but it takes love
\nto make you a mommy or daddy.” . . . page 182<\/em><\/p>\n

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Written from several viewpoints –\u00a0 June Bug’s, her dad’s, the Dogwood Sherriff’s, and Mae Edwards’ – June Bug<\/a> is an intriguing tale that slowly reveals the truth about how June Bug came to be traveling across the country with her dad in the only life she remembers. After June Bug came face-to-face with a photograph of\u00a0 herself in a Walmart’s missing children display, she realized that all she has ever known or believed of her life could be based on lies. At the same time, breaking news in Dogwood, West Virginia pulls June Bug and her dad onto a collision course with the past and the truth.<\/p>\n

June Bug<\/a> is a heartwarming story of\u00a0 love and sacrifice that kept me turning pages until I reached the end. The author skillfully injects only the necessary bits and pieces of the puzzle so that the reader is kept guessing until the end about what actually happened seven years earlier and why. Filled with fascinating characters, both good and bad, June Bug<\/a> is a book that will be remembered.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2141","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2141","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2141"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2141\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2160,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2141\/revisions\/2160"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2141"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2141"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2141"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}