Pale Fire: Illustrated Sports Illustrated Sports Pale Fire Journal | Page 44

My parents never tried to get in touch with me, never contacted me in any
form. I guess I wouldn’t know if they had simply been unable, but let’s face it:
Hazel was as dead to them as she was to me. The problem was they didn’t see
Kinbote as their child like I did.
I carried on as the shadow of my former self; something like a copy, an imi-
tation, but resembling only an outline of my old appearance. I changed my hair,
my clothes, I trained myself to speak in a deeper voice and carry myself like a
man would because that’s what I was. I knew that’s what I was.
Something in me kept on wishing, though, and hoping that my parents
would find me again. It was lonely without them [3] , the way it feels when the
blankets come off in the morning and that heat you’d gotten used to vanishes.
Sometimes the heat was uncomfortable, but it was still far better than this.
I don’t know precisely what made me do it, but I found myself looking for
houses for sale back in my hometown. By then it had been several years since I
left. If my parents were still th