by Brian James
Once we start to walk, we are careful to duck from tree to tree. At least for a little while until we’re out of sight of every window. Then we cut off into the woods away from the road, where we can talk like normal people.
—You’re pretty good at that— he says. —You had a lot of practice making out with boys in supply closets?—
—Not really— I tease. —Actually the last boy I kissed was before summer even started.—
Alec raises his eyebrows. —Boyfriend?—
I shake my head.
—Spin the Bottle?— he guesses.
—Sort of— I say. —Truth or Dare. I guess that’s the same thing.—
Alec groans, slapping his forehead. —Those are always the worst. Somehow I always get paired up with the most awkward person. Does that happen to you too?—
—It did that time— I tell him.
Kayliegh and I were over Thomas’s house after school in the spring. His parents didn’t get home until late so we could do whatever we wanted—us, Thomas, and his friend Scott, who was a year older and kind of ugly with zits all over his face. I didn’t want to be there but Kayliegh wanted to make out with Thomas and begged me to come along. It was her idea to play Truth or Dare. She said it would be fun as long as we made every question and dare something hot. Then she laughed the fake laugh she saved for when boys were around—the one where she touched her teeth with her tongue. She copied it from an old Marilyn Monroe movie, but she does it so naturally anymore that I wonder if she even remembers that it’s practiced.
Kayliegh let me know beforehand that she wanted all of my dares to involve her and Thomas. I never said I wanted mine to be with Scott but that’s what she did anyway. I would have just picked truth every time and she knew it. She made sure I picked dares by asking truth questions she knew nobody would answer—questions like what I thought about while masturbating. She wanted all of us to pick dare so we would dare her back. She was drinking from four different colored bottles in the liquor cabinet and just wanted the game to be an excuse for fooling around. —Sabrina, I dare you to climb on Scott’s lap and French him— she dared me the first chance she got. I thought he was gross, but I did it.
—It was the worst kiss I’ve ever had— I tell Alec as I slip out of my sneakers to feel the grass tickle between my toes.
—What was the problem? A drooler? A vacuum kisser? What?—Alec asks, holding my hand and letting our arms swing in rhythm.
—It wasn’t so much the kiss. The kiss was kind of nothing … just like blah. But of course, he bragged about it at school the next day. I’m not sure why, he had nothing to brag about. All he did was stick his tongue in there until I thought I was going to gag.— I stop walking and look up at Alec. I’m not sure why. I guess I just want to remind myself how much better he is than any other boy I’ve met. —It wasn’t at all like it was with you.—
Alec’s cheeks turn pink. —Yeah? How was I?—
The second time we kissed, I had my eyes closed while it happened but I opened them just before we stopped and I saw the sky change colors. The outline of his hair was sprinkled with shining sparks. —You were … kind of perfect— I say.
—Kind of?— Alec throws his hands out to his sides, pretending to be offended. —Can I try again? I’d hate for my reputation to be spoiled by a “kind of.”—
The first houses and stores from town are in sight as we stop on the last hill looking down. Alec holds me and I hold him. Our bodies press together until we are Siamese twins. The warmth from his body against mine makes the tiny pebbles in my pocket glow brighter than bright so that I don’t have to see it to know it’s happening.
—I like you— Alec says. —A lot. I think you’re so incredible, but I’m sure you already knew that. I wanted to tell you anyway.— When I don’t say anything, Alec looks nervous. —You got quiet. I hope you’re just speechless because you like me too and this is just one of those perfect kind of movie moments. Because it’s either that or you’re thinking “oh my god, how do I get away from this lunatic?” and that would just be plain wrong.—
I watch the color in his eyes dance as he talks.
There’s a halo around him that tells me he knows the answer, but still I’m not saying anything and I know he’s getting more nervous. But then I answer him by touching his bottom lip to my upper one and kiss him until my cheeks turn a darker shade of pink and I feel the rest of the universe is revolving around us and only us.
* * *
The town is split down the center—half on one side of the street and half on the other. The perfect symmetry of cars and shops is amazing. The shape and size of the buildings remind me of towns I used to build from Legos, only not as colorful.
There aren’t many people around. But the ones who are there, shuffling into and out of stores, all glance at me and Alec; just long enough to make me feel as if we don’t belong. I squeeze Alec’s hand a little tighter under their glare. I tuck my shoulder under his and walk in step with his pace.
In the hospital, people are one way or the other. We are either slightly dazed patients or sterile nurses and doctors with mannequin skin. There is nothing in between. Here is different. We stand out here. —They keep looking at us— I say.
Alec swivels from side to side, absorbing all of the strangers’ dirty looks. —Yeah. Screw ’em— he says, and his words become a spell that protects me.
I notice everything as if being in the world is a new experience. Every little detail seems meaningful and I try to keep track of them. A discarded coffee cup fumbles around in the breeze. The plastic lid, still half on, rattles over the cement. A stirring straw sticks out. It makes a sound like the clicking of insect antennae. I try to memorize it exactly—even how the shadows fall on the stenciled logo as the cup rolls slowly back and forth.
Dr. Richards tells me my obsession with details is an unhealthy symptom of a wider problem. She doesn’t understand that clues can be hidden in even the smallest places. It’s the same as stones giving off a dim halo—I have to search every last inch to find flaws in the scenery. They’ll lead me to the place I know is heaven if I follow them. I have to pay attention because I don’t want to miss our chance when it comes.
I catalog the cars parked along the road. They are parked in a pattern of colors. Red, silver, blue, black, red, white, and silver—ranging in size and shape but lined up neatly like a child’s toys practicing a traffic jam. The parking meters tick away silently and digitally. The time left varies for each car. Seven minutes. Eleven. Three. One hundred and six.
The buildings are uneven. Slanted roofs touch up against shorter flat ones. Other buildings are set apart with driveways or skinny alleys between them. All of the ones with stores are wrong. It’s obvious the buildings were meant to be homes. The shops are intruding into living rooms and kitchens.
I try to keep track of the people I see. I watch who goes in which door or which car, but it’s hard. Things here happen without planning. There’s no routine. Outside the Wellness Center, not everyone moves on the same schedule. It makes me nervous to view the chaos that comes with people acting independently. Coming face-to-face with the world, I feel anxious—like being shut in a dark closet with a hidden ghoul breathing on my neck. But Alec is a light in the dark. Being scared doesn’t scare me in the same way when I’m with him.
I grip his arm and he holds me.
—Looks like there’s a place up there— he says over the humming of car engines. He points to a pale blue building on the other side of the street. Above the wraparound porch is a sign that reads THE QUIET MAN in large loud letters and SANDWICHES, SOUP, & SNACKS in smaller ones. With the sun at his back, Alec looks skinny and frail. But frail like flames that dart away from a fire because there’s something fierce about him too—something warm when pressed close to me, but it will burn others if they get too near. —Want to check it out? I’m starving.—
—Okay— I say even though I’m not hungry at all.
We lock elbows, cros
s the street, and walk into the store. The chime of jingle bells on the door greets us. —I hope they have burgers— Alec whispers. His mouth hangs open and he pretends to drool.—Big, greasy, disgusting burgers that soak through the bun and drip cheese all over my hands.—
There’s a familiar smell of cinnamon and firewood inside. It is the same kind of quaint general store found in all of the out-of-the-way towns my parents like to stop in whenever we’d load up the car for a road trip. These stores are all the same everyplace in America and I’m always afraid of moving too fast in them. I worry that any quick move will send up a cloud of dust the size of a sandstorm in the desert.
I walk slow and quiet between the heavy wooden shelves. Shifting my feet in a delicate ballet through the aisles, I pass rows of jam and syrup and cookies from brands that don’t exist in the electric wonderland of supermarkets placed every two or three miles in my town. I whisper the brand names in my head and commit them to memory as we make our way to the back of the store where there’s a deli case and a chalkboard menu.
—It doesn’t look like a burger joint— Alec mumbles, reading the sandwich descriptions scribbled out in pink chalk.
We’re the only ones in the store besides the lady at the cash register by the door and the man in the apron behind the sandwich counter. They’re both old. The woman’s hair is mostly gray but there are a few black strands here and there. Her skin is gray too, the way old people’s skin always seems to turn gray. Or maybe it just looks gray because of the shadows. Or maybe her lipstick absorbs all of the light. It’s such a bright crayon red, painted on larger than her lips really are. I’ve often wondered why old women do that. Why they try to cover where their lips have gone thin. It’s the same as bald men wearing hairpieces—it exaggerates what they are trying to hide.
The man at the deli counter must be the woman’s husband because they look alike. That’s another thing about old people. Once they’ve been married long enough, they grow to look the same. They also learn to communicate without words. When the woman clears her throat, the man stops what he’s doing and turns. As Alec and I approach the back, the couple follows us with their eyes. One from the front and one from the back as if we only exist in their line of sight and if either of them blinks, we’ll vanish.
A shiver runs through me and I pull Alec closer.
I used to have a recurring nightmare when I was little. I would be lost somewhere, either in the mall or an airport or some other place like that and this couple would find me. Always the same couple no matter where I’d been. They always promised to bring me home to my parents, but they never did. Their real plan was to eat me and I fell for it each time. I trusted them. And every time, the dream would end with their hands turning into claws—their mouths growing sharper teeth to tear me apart.
The old couple in the store, with their dry expressions, gray skin, and gray eyes—they remind me of the couple from my dream. I can almost see their faces waiting to change. Dr. Richards would say I was projecting. She would tell me that my fear of the world is finding a way of expressing itself in an old nightmare tucked away in the attic of my mind. Irrational is a word she might use to describe it. But her words don’t make it any less real. She doesn’t understand that my dreams are like instincts. Right now, they are telling me this place isn’t good.
I squeeze Alec’s hand, slightly pulling him away. —We should go.—
—Without eating?— Alec asks with eyebrows arched to the ceiling and his stomach rumbling and growling.
The old couple’s eyes remain locked on us. Intense and serious and humming with static so strong that I know it’s there even if I can’t see it.
My stomach does somersaults inside me. —It’s just … this place gives me the creeps.— Alec turns his head and snuggles his face against my neck where his breath is warm on my skin. I let out a long, slow breath and let my heart fall into the same steady rhythm as his.
—Let’s see what they have first— he says. —Okay?—
I bite my lip and nod, never taking my eyes off the old man who now has both hands on the counter. They are in the shape of fists and are as square as cinder blocks.
Alec has a way of tilting his body as he stands that makes people uncomfortable. I’ve seen him do it with the nurses and they react by stepping away and sounding suddenly irritated when they speak. He does the same thing here in the store and I see the man’s cheeks flush with a color halfway between annoyance and hatred. —What can I get you?— he asks in a voice too big for the narrow space between the deli counter and the wall behind him.
—Ladies first— Alec says. —What do you want?—
I feel confused and dizzy inside and simply shrug. I try to read the words on the chalkboard but the letters don’t seem to make sense. I mean, I can read words like ham and turkey and pesto but I can’t put them together into thoughts because all I can focus on is the old man’s eyes which spin in slow-motion like gasoline rainbows rising off the blacktop in summertime—his knuckles tap-tapping faster than seconds ticking off a clock.
Alec stares at him. —Easy, man! She’s thinking— he snaps. —Can’t we even get a minute to decide?—
The sound that comes from the man’s throat is the sound of a rhinoceros—the sound of horned rage deciding whether or not to charge. —Take as long as you need … just as long as you kids really are planning to order something. Otherwise you’re just wasting my time.—
Alec makes a show of looking around. —I’m sorry. I didn’t notice the huge crowd! We must be keeping you from all these other customers.—
—Look here …— the man growls threateningly.
Alec is about to start in on him again but I pull at his sleeve so that his ear is pressed against my mouth. —I don’t want anything— I whisper. —I just want to go.—
—Yeah, okay.— Alec nods in agreement, taking a step away. —I don’t think I want anything either. Not anymore.—
The old man’s face swells with blood. His cheeks puff with angry breaths of steam. I’m waiting for his mouth to explode with razor teeth and his fingers to become knives.
My hand darts toward my mouth and I begin sucking on my sleeve. The old man’s eyes grow steady. He stares at the piece of plastic wrapped around my wrist. It catches in the dim light at just the right angle to attract his attention. —You kids from the hospital up the road?—
Now Alec is the one who wants to leave.
He leads me back through the aisle as the man hollers for us to stay.
—Linda? Call them up at the hospital. Tell them we got two of their kids down here in town. They’re probably searching for them— he shouts over our heads to the lady in the front who already has the phone pressed to her ear.
On the way out, I take a last glance over my shoulder. The man is still hollering something to his wife but as soon as the sun touches my skin, his words sound like nothing more than noise.
CHAPTER
TEN
Alec and I run from the store. I sprint across the porch, leaping over the three creaky steps. The soles of my sneakers clap loudly on the sidewalk. My arms swing wildly. The sleeve of my sweatshirt slips off my shoulder, the hood falls halfway down my back, and the teeth from the zipper scratch my neck, but I still push faster. I don’t ever want to stop. I want to keep running all the way to heaven.
—Sabrina, that way!— Alec is waving for me to cut through the space between two buildings. The bottoms of my shoes are worn flat and my feet skid when I change directions. My right leg twists and I slip, scraping my knee and hands when I brace myself. A rash of blood dirties my skin, but I keep running. Alec grabs me—his arm hooks my waist even though my legs keep moving. —You okay? That was a nasty spill.—
—I’m fine. Let’s just keep going— I say, panting breathlessly.
—We’re cool for now— he says. —We don’t have to kill ourselves running a marathon.— He is bent over with his hands on his thighs trying to catch his breath. He wants to slow down. I don�
�t, but I trust him. I’ll go at his pace.
—Okay, no running— I tell him. —But can we just … keep going?—
—Sure. Where?—
—Away from here … from those people.—
The old couple, they were static people. They are the first I’ve seen since going to the hospital. The first to show it outwardly anyway, because I still have my suspicions about Dr. Richards and some of the nurses and the girl who wanted me to stay away from Alec. Out here they don’t hide. Out here they are stronger and will attack like vampires.
I’m remembering how dangerous it is outside the walls of the hospital and I’m frightened. My hands are shaking. Sweat runs down my face, but I’m shivering. Alec puts his arm around me. His hand rests on my collarbone where my heart flutters rapidly.
—Hey, relax— he says in a soothing voice. —You’ll give yourself a heart attack. It’s fine. We’re not going to get in trouble. Even if they find us, we didn’t really do anything. We’ll just go back with them and that’s it.—
I’m not sure I want to go back, but I’m not sure I want to be here either. I want to be someplace else—someplace where there is only us. If we keep walking, we’ll find it. The sky is already starting to change. The blue is drying up and disappearing.
—Whoa! You see that?— Alec leaves my side and takes off in the direction of a parking lot behind a drugstore. His eyes are as large as moons and he is practically skipping, taking little leaps as he surges ahead. —A shopping cart! Not fenced in and free to go?— His hands grasp onto the handle of the rusty cart and he immediately spins it around in a squeaky circle. —This really is our day. Come on. Hop in. I’ll push you first.—
