Excerpt from Lost Boy
Read a brief excerpt from Greg Laurie's book Lost Boy.
My mom met a man named Oscar Laurie. Oscar didn't smoke cigarettes or drink to excess, and he wasn't a flashy barfly. He married my mother, and we moved to his home in New Jersey.
We lived together in a spacious apartment with thick white carpeting. There was a doorman at the entrance to our building. I'd never seen anything like it. And I was amazed when my mother's new husband didn't see me as just a pesky kid to send away.
Instead, Oscar Laurie formally adopted me and gave me his name.
Oscar also gave me boundaries. He corrected my language and admonished me to do well in school. He even took me to the local jail to show me where I would end up if I made the wrong decisions in life.
Christmas was different now. Oscar bought me an incredible racecar track with two little cars that whizzed around with working headlights. He patiently built it with me, and then got down on the floor as we race the cars together by the light of the shimmering Christmas tree.
It was easy for me to call Oscar "Dad." I trusted him.
When they got engaged, Oscar had given my mom a four-carat diamond ring. It flashed on her slender hand like silver fire. My mom had always been attracted to big rings and bright lights, but this was the real thing. And so was Oscar.
But one day she went to the beach and lost her brilliant ring in the sand. "Oh, well," she told Oscar. "It was beautiful while it lasted." I should have known that the same thing would happen with Oscar.
A few years went by. One day when I came out after the final bell at school, there was my mother. She was sitting at the wheel of her big black Cadillac, her platinum hair shining in the afternoon sun.
"Get in," she said.
The car was full of boxes and suitcases, so maybe we were off to a new adventure.
"What's going on?" I said.
"We're going to Hawaii," she said.
My eyebrows went up. Hawaii! It sounded so luxurious and tropical; I could see the palm trees dancing in the breeze and hear the distant crash of the surf. New Jersey was nothing by comparison.
"Great!" I said, smiling. "Where's Dad?"
She didn't smile back.
"He's not coming."
We lived together in a spacious apartment with thick white carpeting. There was a doorman at the entrance to our building. I'd never seen anything like it. And I was amazed when my mother's new husband didn't see me as just a pesky kid to send away.
Instead, Oscar Laurie formally adopted me and gave me his name.
Oscar also gave me boundaries. He corrected my language and admonished me to do well in school. He even took me to the local jail to show me where I would end up if I made the wrong decisions in life.
Christmas was different now. Oscar bought me an incredible racecar track with two little cars that whizzed around with working headlights. He patiently built it with me, and then got down on the floor as we race the cars together by the light of the shimmering Christmas tree.
It was easy for me to call Oscar "Dad." I trusted him.
When they got engaged, Oscar had given my mom a four-carat diamond ring. It flashed on her slender hand like silver fire. My mom had always been attracted to big rings and bright lights, but this was the real thing. And so was Oscar.
But one day she went to the beach and lost her brilliant ring in the sand. "Oh, well," she told Oscar. "It was beautiful while it lasted." I should have known that the same thing would happen with Oscar.
A few years went by. One day when I came out after the final bell at school, there was my mother. She was sitting at the wheel of her big black Cadillac, her platinum hair shining in the afternoon sun.
"Get in," she said.
The car was full of boxes and suitcases, so maybe we were off to a new adventure.
"What's going on?" I said.
"We're going to Hawaii," she said.
My eyebrows went up. Hawaii! It sounded so luxurious and tropical; I could see the palm trees dancing in the breeze and hear the distant crash of the surf. New Jersey was nothing by comparison.
"Great!" I said, smiling. "Where's Dad?"
She didn't smile back.
"He's not coming."
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Excerpted from Lost Boy. Copyright © 2008 by Greg Laurie. Used by permission of Regal Publishers. Excerpt may not be reproduced without the prior consent of the publisher.
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