53 pages • 1 hour read
Cylin BusbyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
As the Busbys prepare to move, Amelia invites Cylin over for one last playdate. They run through the sprinkler to cool off from the summer heat, and Amelia’s mother gives Cylin pictures of her and Amelia together. For Cylin, they are a reminder that normalcy is still possible. Then Amelia’s mother asks Cylin where they’re moving. Cylin lies and tells her that they haven’t decided on a final location yet. The questions make her nervous, and she finds an excuse to end the playdate. At home, Cylin sorts through her toys, deciding which ones to keep. Sitting in her empty closet, evening shadows creeping into her room, she writes “Help me” in crayon on her closet wall.
The family packs up a U-Haul and hits the road for Tennessee accompanied by a police escort to the border of Cape Cod. Max is sold back to the training facility. When they arrive in Cookeville, the heat is in the triple digits (104°). Due to a bureaucratic mistake, their new house won’t be available for three days, so they spend the time in a hotel, using the pool and air conditioning to shelter from the heat.
Three days later, they move into their new home, a three-bedroom, two-bath ranch house with a full basement and a barn in the back. They inherit two cats who have taken up residence in the barn, but their Falmouth cat, Pyewacket, wanders out one day and never comes back. Months later, while jogging, John sees Pyewacket crossing the road to his new home. After having survived an encounter with a tomcat, “Pye” has nursed his wounds and moved on, a lesson John sees parallels to in his own life.
The morning after they arrive at their new home, Cylin and her brothers explore their new surroundings—only farmland and a few distant neighbors with no sign of other kids. While they’re checking out the property, a man drives up and asks John and Polly if they’d like to lease their pasture. They agree, and a little later, the man returns with a truckload of cows. He herds them on to the Busby’s pasture for grazing. When Cylin asks the man, Mr. Carter, if there are other kids nearby, he tells them of a girl that used to live across the road, “prettiest girl you ever saw” (305), who became a model, struggled with depression, and committed suicide.
Later, the family goes to the mall to buy sheets and towels and to escape the heat. There, Eric and Shawn meet a few boys in the video arcade, but Cylin doesn’t see any girls her age. That afternoon, she writes a letter to Amelia, careful not to include any information that could give away their location. After dinner, a car pulls on to their property. Alarmed, John pulls out his .357 Magnum, and Polly and the kids hide in the basement. It’s a false alarm, however, a lost driver looking for directions. Later that night, thinking about the neighbor girl’s suicide and unable to sleep, Cylin goes to the kitchen and finds her father staring out the window, gun in hand. She thinks about her old bedroom back in Falmouth and who might live there after her.
To keep up with his “in-between progress checks” (312), John sees the maxillofacial doctors at Vanderbilt University. Unfortunately, they inform him that the bone marrow transplants have not been growing on the right side of his face. Unwilling to try a metal-and-plastic prosthesis, he schedules another bone marrow procedure at Massachusetts General. Driving back to Boston, he hears on the radio that John Lennon has been killed. The story triggers memories of his own shooting and the random thoughts that crossed his mind in the immediate aftermath.
John undergoes another round of surgery—there are no guards at his door, and only the doctors know he’s there. He’s left his old life behind. Before returning to Tennessee, he visits his Uncle John, an electrician and tinkerer, who has built a custom .22 caliber rifle with a scope and a silencer in his basement. John suddenly has thoughts of killing Meyer again, but, in the end, he has left that part of his life behind as well. When he returns home, he finds Polly has bought a horse, and she seems truly happy for the first time since the shooting. In his mind, he juxtaposes the horse and the barn with the custom .22 rifle and realizes, with acceptance, “This was our life now” (319).
Life in Tennessee is more serene and less guarded than in Falmouth (Polly works as a nurse and John farms the land), but Cylin still fears for their safety. Despite John’s confidence that the family is safe, Cylin worries about his medical trips to Boston, being within Meyer’s reach. After a period of normalcy, any innocuous event triggers flashbacks of their old life. For example, a reporter from the Cape Cod Times discovers their location and wants to interview John. Despite the family’s reservations (and the mysterious phone calls to the reporter’s house), John proceeds with the interview. Finally, years after the shooting, John’s version of the story is published.
Months—and then years—pass with no incidents, and the fear slowly fades; but vestiges of John’s anger remain, and his displays of rage leave his children with traumatic memories. Cylin also feels anger at her stolen life, still keeping a steak knife under her mattress for protection.
Tennessee’s “hardship law” allows 15-year-olds to acquire a driver’s license if they are operating farm equipment or driving on rural roads, and so the Busby kids all get their licenses to shorten their commute to school. One day, Cylin comes home from school to find an old VW Bug parked in the driveway, a gift from John to the kids. Cylin takes the car on a solo drive after getting her license. Alone on the road, a blue car pulls up behind her, triggering memories of the blue sedan involved in John’s shooting. She panics and slows down, unsure what to do as the car approaches quickly. She pulls on to the shoulder and ducks for cover, but the car is just trying to pass. Years after the attack, the emotional memories are still vivid, but she takes solace in their isolation and the fact that their neighbors mind their own business.
As the Busbys move to Tennessee and attempt to leave their old life behind, they find it’s not so easy. Physical distance cannot erase the emotional scars inflicted by the previous year. Moving away can only partially solve their problems. They are still gripped by paranoia, seeing danger in the most mundane encounters. A lost stranger seeking directions is cause for John to draw his weapon. A tailgating blue sedan brings back traumatic memories of John’s assault, triggering a panic attack in Cylin. John’s routine medical trips to Boston are a source of anxiety for the entire family, fearing Raymond Meyer’s vendetta. Fear of the unknown is far worse than any visible enemy. It lurks behind the familiar world, waiting to disrupt and terrorize when least expected; and the only way to safeguard against it is to always expect it. It takes years for the trauma to dissipate, and perhaps it is only Meyer’s death that finally puts their fears to rest.
The family’s journey from fear to security parallels John’s journey from rage to acceptance. The journey is long indeed. Every time he seems to move past his desire for revenge, some new event or injustice triggers it anew. Even in the bucolic surroundings of the Maine woods, John cannot rest, keeping vigil at night, weapon drawn, waiting for some inevitable confrontation. After the move to Tennessee, with his family isolated and safe for the first time since the attack, John’s uncle nearly becomes the catalyst for a tragic decision; but John has finally accepted his fate and prioritized his family over his ego.
Interestingly, what finally settles John’s mind and confirms his decision to pass on revenge is a relatively small thing: Polly’s horse. It’s not an earth-shattering epiphany that reminds John of what’s important but a small moment, a singular gesture—his wife petting her new horse. In that brief moment, everything is revealed to John: his wife’s happiness, his realization that this place—this farm, this new life—is where they now belong. It is a profound human truth that revelations often are contained not in big, dramatic events but in fleeting moments, moments that pass by in seconds of real time but etch themselves in our psyches for life.