When Ricky dreams, he doesn’t dream friends. He dreams a place where he can be who he is and where there won’t be anyone around to look that other damning thing, normal. Where it’s just him and he’s normal. True, a man living by the river, talking to no one, would be an object of fun or bogeyman stories among the neighborhood kids. But he kind of likes that idea. Because maybe there’ll be some kid like he was who doesn’t fit in, who just wants to get away, and he’ll hear about Ricky and he’ll know it’s possible.
