Happiness Falls by Angie Kim EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Angie Kim
- Language: English
- Genre: Amateur Sleuths
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Locke, Bach, and K-pop
WE DIDN’T CALL THE POLICE right away. Later, I would blame myself, wonder if
things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t shrugged it off, insisting
Dad wasn’t missing missing but just delayed, probably still in the woods
looking for Eugene, thinking he’d run off somewhere. Mom says it wasn’t my
fault, that I was merely being optimistic, but I know better. I don’t believe in
optimism. I believe there’s a fine line (if any) between optimism and willful
idiocy, so I try to avoid optimism altogether, lest I fall over the line
mistakenly.
My twin brother, John, keeps trying to make me feel better, too, saying
we couldn’t have known something was wrong because it was such a typical
morning, which is an asinine thing to say because why would you assume
things can’t go wrong simply because they haven’t yet? Life isn’t geometry;
terrible, life-changing moments don’t happen predictably, at the bottom of a
linear slope. Tragedies and accidents are tragic and accidental precisely
because of their unexpectedness. Besides, labeling anything about our family
“typical”—I just have to shake my head. I’m not even thinking about the
typical-adjacent stuff like John’s and my boy-girl twin thing, our biracial mix
(Korean and white), untraditional parental gender roles (working mom, stayat-home dad), or different last names (Parson for Dad + Park for Mom = the
mashed-up Parkson for us kids)—not common, certainly, but hardly shocking
in our area these days. Where we’re indubitably, inherently atypical is with
my little brother Eugene’s dual diagnosis: autism and a rare genetic disorder
called mosaic Angelman syndrome (AS), which means he can’t talk, has
motor difficulties, and—this is what fascinates many people who’ve never
heard of AS—has an unusually happy demeanor with frequent smiles and
laughter.
Sorry, I’m getting sidetracked. It’s one of my biggest faults and something
I’m trying to work on. (To be honest, I don’t like shutting it down entirely
because sometimes, those tangents can end up being important and/or fun.
For example, my honors thesis, Philosophy of Music and Algorithmic
Programming: Locke, Bach, and K-pop vs. Prokofiev, Sartre, and Jazz Rap,
grew from a footnote in my original proposal. Also, I can’t help it; it’s the way
my mind works. So here’s a compromise: I’ll put my side points in footnotes.
If you love fun little detours like Dad and me, you can read them. If you find
footnotes annoying (like John) or want to know what happened ASAP (like
Mom), you can skip them. If you’re undecided, you can try a few, mix and
match.)
So, anyway, I was talking about the police. The fact is, I knew something
was wrong. We all did. We didn’t want to call the police because we didn’t
want to say it out loud, much the same way I’m going around and around
now, fixating on this peripheral issue of calling the police instead of just
saying what happened.
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