Out There - Book One: Paradise

by David Gordon

Sami and Brian pounded down the sidewalk, dodging around pedestrians and never looking back. After several blocks of running, they skidded around a corner and finally slowed to a walk. Their legs were rubbery and both of them were out of breath and sweating. The sun pressed down on them like a giant hand.

  “I think we’re okay for now,” said Sami, panting and wiping her brow.

  “I am so hot,” Brian gasped. He started to pull back the hood of his sweatshirt. But Sami stopped him.

  “No, leave that up.” She started looking around for shade. There were some buildings that had once had patches of grass and trees in front of them, but these were all dead, brown and leafless now. Then she spotted a pool of shade in a building doorway nearby. “Come on,” she said, and led Brian out of the sun.

  Once in the shade, both of them dropped onto the steps, exhausted. Brian did his best to wipe his brow under the hood. After a few moments, he asked, “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know,” said Sami. “Home, I guess.”

  “Whose home?”

  Sami remembered Mr. Sombra plowing his way through the rioting kids in the cafeteria, trying to get at Brian. “My home,” she said.

  “Is it far?” Brian closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

  It was far. Sami had made the walk a few times when she had missed the bus. In this heat it would take at least an hour, she thought. And pretty soon the men back at the school will realize that she and Brian are gone and will be out looking for them. “It’s too far to walk,” she told Brian.

  “Then we are in a predicament,” said Brian.

  “A what?” she asked.

  “A difficult situation,” he explained, “with no obvious way out.”

  Sami thought about that for a moment. “Yep. We’re in a pickle, all right.”

  This new expression delighted Brian so much that, for the moment, he forgot how tired and hot he was. He opened his eyes and repeated, “A pickle?” He said the word “pickle” slowly, rolling it around in his mouth to enjoy it, the same way you roll a chocolate in your mouth to enjoy its taste even more.

  Sami nodded. “A pickle.”

  All at once the two of them burst out laughing. Between gasps, Brian kept repeating, “We’re in a pickle!” and each time it again set them off laughing.

  “Are you children okay?”

  They choked and coughed as they tried to suddenly stop in mid laugh. Sami turned around and saw a woman just exiting the door behind them. Sami looked at Brian and pretended to jam her hands in her pockets. Brian understood and slipped his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

  “Yes, we’re fine,” Sami answered as she leaned forward to pull Brian’s hood down further. Now the lady was standing over them and looking concerned. Sami looked up at her and said, “Really.” She gave the lady her biggest smile.

  But the lady was suspicious. She grabbed the strap to her purse (to keep it safe) and tilted her head to one side. “What are you doing out of school? It’s a school day, isn’t it?”

  “No,” said Sami automatically, but the woman opened her eyes wide in disbelief. “I mean yes, mam,” Sami quickly corrected herself, “It’s just…” Sami was thinking as fast as she had ever thought in her life. “It’s just that I was taking my brother home. He’s sick. He’s really sick. He’s got a nasty cough.”

  The lady looked down at Brian, who was sitting quietly, hiding beneath his hood. Sami looked at him too and repeated in an especially strong voice, “Yes, Brian has a nasty cough!”

  He glanced up at her, got the message, and started coughing. The lady bent down enough to catch a glimpse of Brian beneath the hood and said, “My, he does look pretty awful. Does he have a fever?”

  “Oh yes,” Sami assured her. “A hundred degrees or maybe even more. We were going to walk home, but it’s sooo hot.”

  “Why haven’t you called your parents to pick you up?” demanded the lady.

  “Oh we did! My—our—mom is a nurse at the hospital and she can’t leave right now. I think she’s doing a heart surgery or a happendectomy or something. So she told us to just go home and let her know when we’re there. Safe and sound.” Sami waited for the lady to say something, but she just stared at the children. “At our home,” Sami repeated. Still the lady did not respond, so Sami leaned toward her and added, slowly, “Where…we…would be...safe.”

  Now the lady looked troubled. “So, you’re walking,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Sami.

  “And it’s too hot for your brother,” continued the lady.

  “It’s quite a predicament, mam,” said Sami.

  The lady stared at Sami, then Brian started coughing again and she looked down at him.

  Sami snapped her fingers. “I know! Maybe you could take us home, mam,” she suggested.

  The lady shook her head. “I don’t know.” Brian’s coughing suddenly got worse. The lady looked even more troubled, then said, “Well perhaps if I call your mother,” and she took out her cell phone.

  “Okay!” said Sami brightly. She started searching through her pockets, but she found nothing. “Rats - I mean, darn,” she said. “I must have left her number at school.” She jumped up and pulled Brian to his feet, too. “I know what you can do!” she continued to the lady. “You can take us home and the number is there and when we get there we can call her to tell her we’re home safe and sound. Isn’t that a good idea?”

  Sami was moving too fast for the lady. “Well…” the woman began, looking doubtful.

  “It’s really nice of you to help us,” said Sami. “Especially my sick brother.” She gave Brian a little shake and Brian went into a huge coughing fit. “I think he’s getting worse. Where’s your car, mam?”

  The woman was too confused to know what to say. She pointed up the street.

  “Great!” said Sami. “Let’s go.” She led the coughing Brian down the steps. The lady was still trying to figure out why she was following them as she followed them.

  The lady pulled her car to a stop in front of Sami’s apartment building. “Is this it?” she asked as she shifted the car into park and turned off the engine. She picked up her cell phone from the seat beside her. “Okay, now we can go in—” The back door slammed shut. The lady twisted to look into the back seat, which was now empty. She looked up just in time to see the glass door of the apartment building closing behind the two children… “—and call.”

  As soon as they were inside the lobby, Sami and Brian ducked behind the wall, out of sight. Sami peeked around the corner to see what the lady was doing. Even from this distance Sami could see that the lady was pretty angry. Sami watched her shake her head in disgust, turn the ignition key, and roar off.

  Sami felt sorry for tricking the lady, and she was also greatly relieved. She turned her back against the lobby wall and slid to the floor, exhausted. She sighed deeply and relaxed for the first time in what seemed like hours.

  Brian pulled back his sweat-stained hood and sank to the floor beside her. “Are we safe and sound now?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered.

  Tires screeched to a halt outside the apartment building. The two children twisted around to nervously peek out through the glass door. Now a police car was parked out front, and two policemen were getting out.

  A minute later, Sami and Brian were running down her hallway and arriving, breathless, at her apartment door. Sami dug frantically in her pants pockets for the key.

  Between gasps for air, Brian said, “Sami?”

  “Just a sec!” she shot back, and pulled out her key. She jammed it into the door lock, but Brian put his hand on her shoulder.

  “Sami!” he said again.

  “What?!”

  “They will search your apartment for me.”

  Brian was right, of course. Sami pulled out her key and stared at the floor, thinking. Then she ran the few steps to Mr. Sanchez’s door and knocked. She glanced at Brian, who looked uneasy. There was no answer, so
she raised her fist and this time pounded on the door until it rattled and boomed. The door jerked opened and a surprised Mr. Sanchez stared down at her.

  “We really need your help,” said Sami.

  Moments after Mr. Sanchez had let Sami and Brian into his apartment and shut the door, the three of them heard the two policemen banging on the door to Sami’s apartment. The two children looked up at Mr. Sanchez with big, round, scared eyes. They were trembling. Mr. Sanchez held a finger to his lips, signaling them to be quite.

  They stood like that for long minutes while the policemen knocked and knocked. Eventually they heard the police leave. Mr. Sanchez walked to the window and gazed down at the street. Sami and Brian stayed rooted where they were, like trees, watching Mr. Sanchez. A minute later he nodded and turned back to them.

  “It’s alright,” he said. “They’ve gone.” He watched Sami drag herself to the green chair and collapse into it. Brian continued to stand where he was, staring at Mr. Sanchez. Mr. Sanchez saw the sweat rolling off of Brian’s bald head and went to him, smiling. “Here,” he said, grabbing the bottom of the sweat shirt, “let’s get that off of you.” With both of them grunting, they pulled it off. Mr. Sanchez immediately got Brian a glass of water. “Drink this.” While Brian gratefully drained the glass, Mr. Sanchez brought another for Sami. “You too.”

  Five minutes later things were better. Sami and Brian had each gulped down another precious glass of water, and both had wiped off their faces with a dry cloth. Brian’s shirt had been soggy with sweat, so Sami had darted over to her apartment and brought him one of her t-shirts. The shirt was dark blue, and on the front was a picture of a swirling galaxy with an arrow pointing to one of its thousands of stars. Under the galaxy is said, “You Are Here.” Now the two of them were sitting at Mr. Sanchez’s kitchen table, snacking on graham crackers and butter.

  Mr. Sanchez was pulling dirty dishes out of the sink and stacking them carefully on the counter. He shook his head and said, “I hope the water comes back on soon. These dishes do not smell like flowers.”

  Sami said to his back, “Don’t you want to know why we’re here?”

  “I know why you are here,” said Mr. Sanchez. Surprised, Sami and Brian glanced at each other, then back at Mr. Sanchez. He was wiping his hands on a dirty towel as he turned around to face them. “The police came to the school, looking for Brian.”

  “How did you know this?” Brian asked suspiciously. Sami had never heard Brian sound suspicious. She stared at him, as he stared at Mr. Sanchez.

  Mr. Sanchez grunted, tossed the stained dishtowel on the counter and sat down at the table with them. He looked steadily and, Sami thought, sadly at Brian for a moment. Then he said, “The television. The news.” He explained to them what had been going on in the world this morning while Brian and Sami were busy at school, learning to write complete sentences and to add fractions. He told them that more countries had started fighting over water. He told them that people were scared and that president Liddell, senators, congressmen, and everyone else in government were having emergency meetings to decide what to do. He told them that the US First people were marching in cities everywhere and demanding that the aliens be locked up. He told them that the government had rounded up all of the aliens in the country and put them into detention facilities. Sami asked what those were, and Mr. Sanchez answered, “Jails. They’ve put them in jails.”

  “They can’t do that!” Sami shouted.

  Mr. Sanchez looked at her. “They have done it, mija.”

  “In jail!?” This was too much for Sami. Furious now, she jumped to her feet, knocking the chair over behind her. She stomped around the room and spit flew from her mouth as she shouted “They can’t do this!” and “But they’re the best people!” and whatever else exploded out of her hurt and scared and angry mind.

  While Sami went on ranting in this way, Brian and Mr. Sanchez continued to stare at each other. Finally, Brian asked, quietly, “All of them?”

  “Your parents have been taken away,” answered Mr. Sanchez. “The news showed them being taken to our local jail.” Brian stared down at the table, trying to understand what was happening to him and his family. “All of your people, all of the Adonae, have been arrested. I’m sorry, Brian,” said Mr. Sanchez.

  Brian looked back up at him and said, “I should join my parents in the jail.”

  Mr. Sanchez shook his head. “You may be the only one who is not in jail. We must wait. Let’s see what the government does with them first.”

  “You want me to hide.”

  “Yes. I want you to hide.”

  “Where?”

  “Here,” said Mr. Sanchez. He saw Brian stiffen with fear. Mr. Sanchez reached out slowly and gently rested his hand on Brian’s arm. “It’s okay, Brian,” he said. “You will be safe here. I promise you.”

  So, while Sami continued to rant, screaming at the world, it was decided that Brian would hide in Mr. Sanchez’s apartment until they could decide what to do.

  The police were back an hour later, but this time with the man in the suit and Mr. Sombra. And Mrs. Lightfoot. They found Sami on the couch in her apartment, playing a video game and munching on pretzels. Mrs. Lightfoot immediately scooped Sami into her arms and asked her if she was all right. But in Sami’s ear she whispered, “Is he alright?” Sami pushed back from her mother, looked her in the eye and said, “Yes.”

  The man in the suit sat beside Sami on the couch (too close, she felt), leaned in even closer, and angrily peppered her with one question after another. Mr. Sombra stood with his arms crossed over his massive chest and glared down at her. The story she gave them was that as soon as she and Brian had run out of the school they had split up. She told them that she had wandered around for a while before walking home. Again and again the man in the suit demanded to know where Brian was. Again and again she shrugged and confessed that she had no idea where he was now.

  The man in the suit was not at all pleased, and Mr. Sombra stared at her with icicle eyes. The man in the suit sighed, then he jumped to his feet and ordered Sami to come with him to the window. Together they looked down at the street. Sami saw the car of the lady who had driven her and Brian home. The lady was standing on the sidewalk with a policeman. She was explaining something to him as she waved her hands around and pointed at the door to the apartment building.

  Now the man in the suit wanted the truth from Sami. Sami admitted that yes, the lady had given them a ride home and that, yes, she and Brian had come up to her apartment. But that then Brian had left, saying he was going home. She had to repeat this version of the story six or seven times.

  No one believed her, of course.

  The man in the suit had the policemen search the apartment. He and Mr. Sombra stared at Sami the whole time the policemen were searching. She nibbled on a pretzel. On the outside she looked confident and relaxed, but inside her heart was fluttering and her stomach was in knots. She was not even sure that she could keep the pretzel from coming back up. When the policemen failed to find Brian, the man in the suit began asking her the same questions again. He got the same answers from her. Mrs. Lightfoot had been quietly steaming as this was going on. Finally she blew her top and told the man in the suit to leave her daughter alone. He nodded, agreed, and instead started asking Mrs. Lightfoot questions. His questions confused and scared her, and eventually she admitted that Sami sometimes stayed next door with Mr. Sanchez after school. Sami closed her eyes and her mouth went dry.

  The man in the suit nodded, and headed for the door. Everyone followed him into the hallway. He banged on Mr. Sanchez’s door a couple of times before it finally opened. The man in the suit flashed some kind of badge at Mr. Sanchez and barged past him and into the apartment, along with everyone else. Mr. Sanchez retreated to stand beside his television. Sami was terribly scared. She clung to her mother’s waist as they stood in the doorway, expecting to hear one of the policemen or Mr. Sombra shout, “Got him!”

  Instead, Sami heard
the clunk of furniture being lifted and dropped and the creak and slam of doors being opened and closed. Soon the searchers returned to the living room, empty-handed and shaking their heads. This really annoyed the man in the suit. He angrily turned on Mr. Sanchez and started firing one question after another at him.

  Sami’s mother glanced at Sami and secretly raised her eyebrows at her, asking the silent question, Where is Brian? Sami shrugged. While Mr. Sanchez was being interrogated by the man in the suit, he leaned against his old television. Behind him was his huge collection of CDs. Sami noticed that once again Mr. Sanchez’s CDs had toppled over into a messy pile. At first she was annoyed that she would probably have to straighten them up again, for the millionth time. Then she realized that the pile of CDs was much, much bigger than it had been before. Sami stopped breathing and looked back up at Mr. Sanchez. He was still smiling as he answered questions from the man in the suit. When Mr. Sanchez noticed Sami staring at him, he gave her a wink.

  The man in the suit and the policemen finally left. But before leaving he warned Mrs. Lightfoot that they would be questioning Sami again, and that she was not to leave town. He was purple with anger when he squeezed past the policemen and stomped out of Sami’s apartment.

  After the door closed, Sami and her mother waited for a few moments, then fell into each other’s arms and laughed. They were not laughing because anything was funny, but from relief. Then Mrs. Lightfoot held Sami at arm’s length and asked in a whisper, “But where is he?”

  Sami told her, and they laughed some more.

  Sami was dying to see Brian, but Mrs. Lightfoot said she should wait for a while, just to be safe. After about half an hour, Mrs. Lightfoot said it would be okay. Sami rushed to the door, threw it open, and came to a dead stop. Down at the end of the hall, sitting in a chair, watching her, was Mr. Sombra.

  Chapter 14

  “Shwwwaantz!”