“One, no riding your bike during that time.”
“No!” Owen said. He leapt up from the chair and onto the carpet, only sort of realizing that he did so without feeling any pain in his body.
Next finger.
“Two, no computer.”
“You want to stimulate your noggin”—he pointed at the dust-covered set of Encyclopedia Britannica books lined dutifully behind glass cabinets in the entertainment center—”there’s your new computer.”
Thoughts of John and the email came to Owen’s mind.
For a whole month? How could he explain it to John? How could he get anything to John?
Owen balled his hands into fists at his sides. It’s not that he wanted to punch anyone, especially not his father, but if he were given the opportunity to go three rounds with a piñata which may have resembled his dad, he’d eschew the w
