The Seven Sequels bundle

by Orca Various

  I follow the arrow and skate up to a little white booth in the middle of the road. CUSTOMS it says. Inside the booth theres an American flag and a picture of the president and the statu with her hand up. You know the 1. The man in the booth asks where my car is.

  I dont have a car I say.

  Are you looking for Brady or Alex? he asks.

  I tell him I dont know Brady or Alex. I want to go to Canada I say. He nods. And now it gets hard. He puts his glove up to the hole in the window between us.

  Pass port he says.

  I dont have a pass port.

  Then you cant visit another country.

  I dont want to visit I say. I want to go home.

  Give me some ID he says. And of course I cant.

  I was kid napped I say. I escaped and now I am skating home.

  He blinks a couple times. What? he says. When I start to tell him my story he makes a spitting noise. Get out of here kid he says. Go home.

  He points behind me. The sine says WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

  I dont live here I say. I live there.

  I point across the river.

  I am Canadian I say. I prove this by saying roof for him. And about and house. He makes the spitting noise again.

  I have to get back soon—they will miss me in jail I say.

  What? he says. He is paying attention now. What is this about a jail?

  Its where I live I say.

  Where were you last nite?

  That was another jail I say. One of your jails.

  Wait a second he says and picks up the phone.

  I think what to tell him. I dont want to make things tuff for Bet. I explain about being in the rong jail. It looks like mine but it is not I say. I dont live there so I escaped and kept skating until my lace broke.

  He nods at this but it is 2 late. It is all a mistake. I shuldnt of said anything. I feel a strong grab from behind. My arm is pinned by a guy with big ears and short hair. He marches me back down the road and off the bridge. His hands are bigger than my arm. There is a bilding at the side of the road—a blue trailer with an American flag over the door and a woman waiting for us inside. She is in uniform 2 and shes even bigger than the guy.

  Hows our jail bird? she says to me.

  Fine I say. Witch is not true. I am being polite. I am not fine. It wuld be hard to be less fine than I am rite now.

  Actually I say I have been better.

  The guy marches me over to the wall and says lean on this. So I do. And then he frisks me—checks my coat and chest and pockets and pant legs and everything.

  What the heck? I ask.

  The woman looms beside me like a cliff.

  I am a victim I say. I was a hoss stage in your country and now I am trying to get home and you are not helping.

  I explain about Vi and Lubor and Dusan—how they think that Grampa took there anthem and hid it some where and they want it and that is why they kid napped me.

  My brother Spencer can tell you more. Call him I say. Or call Creekside jail where I live now. Call my prole officer. What is her name—Roz. I dont know her number but she is in Toronto. Or call my mom and dad I say. I can give you that number.

  The 2 officers do not care. The guy holds up the nife that was in my coat pocket.

  You are supposed to be in jail he says. You broke out and you are running away to Canada with a weapon and no ID. You are in trouble.

  The woman officer leans down to speak close to me.

  I dont trust you she says.

  And that is when the party starts.

  THE TRAILER IS NOT VERY BIG.

  Apart from the room where we are talking theres an empty room like an office and that is all. I gess there is a bathroom but I never see it. The main room is crowded with the 3 of us in it so you can imagine what happens when 1 2 3 6 10 more people show up. I dont know how many it is actually but it is a lot and they all show up together. In a minit the place is jammed like an ants nest. People shout Happy Holidays Brady and Alex and pat the officers on the back. I dont know who is who but they are both popular.

  There are bottles and glasses and snacks and a music player. It is a party. The woman officer trys to stop it but she cant. Nobody listens when she says go home. Nobody cares.

  Its deadest time of the year! shouts one guy. Nothing is going to happen tonite!

  He is beanpole thin. I am not fat but I am 2wice as big as him. He is thin and stands strait with brite red hair. He looks like a match. Its party time! he shouts.

  Somebody standing near the woman officer gives her a drink. The guy officer already has a drink. The bean pole beside me gives me a drink. I say thank you. He pats me on the back.

  I’m Kenton he says. His breath smells like peaches. Im Bunny I say and he laffs like I have made a joke. When he asks how I am doing I say Not fine. I am not polite any more.

  Kenton laffs again and asks how I know Brady and Alex. We all went to school together he says. Perivale Tech—down hi way 37 there. Brady and Alex are so strait now he says. Cops would you beleeve it? They were crazy back in school he says. Theyd go to Canada and start fites. One nite they both ended up in jail.

  I think they want to put me in jail now I say.

  He laffs. Everything I say he laffs at.

  Your funny! he says. He pats me some more. This is a funny guy! he tells the room.

  My drink smells like peaches. I cant tell if it is bad or good but I have another sip. Yeah it is pretty bad.

  Kenton tells me to drink up. The party goes on. The music is a song every body knows and they start singing and dancing. I can not help dancing along. I do not know the song but the trailer is rocking and I have to move to stay on my feet.

  Kenton notices.

  Hey you have skates on! Your a riot! he says.

  I came on my skates I say.

  The world is tilted at a funny angle. I take off my coat and hang on to it. I dont want any more peach stuff.

  Kenton nods like Aha. You skated over—thats why you are in trouble he says.

  The guy officer comes over. Brady or Alex. He takes a drink from his glass.

  Who are you? he says to me.

  He takes another drink.

  Ive seen you befor he says. But I cant think where.

  He shakes his head and finishes his glass. He wanted to arrest me and now he doesnt remember who I am. I start to laff. Kenton is all ready laffing.

  This guy is the funniest! he says. Say something Bunny—say something funny.

  Funny Bunny says the customs officer. Funny Bunny—yeah thats pretty good.

  And I didnt even say anything.

  Are you Brady? I ask him. Or Alex?

  He doesnt know who I am and I dont know who he is. We all laff.

  See! Kenton puts his arm around my sholders. Bunny is a riot! he says.

  The air is starting to swim. The music is loud and we are jumping up and down to dance. The floor is moving like an earth quake. Alex or Brady staggers. I cant tell if I am dancing or not. I am sort of jumping. My arms and legs move on there own.

  Alex or Brady moves off to find another drink. The trailer shifts and sinks to one side. At least I think it does. The pole with the flag on it falls over. The song ends.

  Where are you skating to Bunny? says Kenton.

  Canada.

  I know a secret way to Canada he says. No customs or anything.

  What way? I ask. Where?

  We used to—Kenton starts but the music comes up and everyone goes back to jumping and I cant hear the rest.

  What? I say.

  When we were in school says Kenton. We did it all the time. Theres a way down from up here he says. There are yellow stickers on the trees to mark the path.

  I dont know what he is talking about.

  What path? I say.

  He looks past my sholder. I feel a hand grab my upper arm. It is the other officer, the woman—Brady or Alex.

  Ive been keeping an eye on you she says. What are you talki
ng about?

  Ive been telling Bunny about the path down to the river.

  No Kenton! she says. He cant go to Canada. Hes a criminal. He broke out of jail. He has to stay here.

  What? says Kenton. Is this true?

  Sort of.

  You are joking—rite?

  No joke says Brady or Alex. She drags me away. The music is on and people are drinking and bouncing.

  I still dont trust you she says. And I dont want Kenton helping you. Come here.

  I have to go with her. She is so big she is like a troll. Her hand is a hook. She pulls me to the other room of the trailer and locks me in.

  The good news is I am not with Vi and the other kid nappers. But I am still locked up in an empty room with no window or telephone or chairs. It is not as cold as the basement in the Newman house but it is pretty cold. I zip up my coat and slump until I am sitting on the plastic carpet. The music gets louder and the floor bounces under me when everybody starts dancing. I sit with my legs strait out. My skates are done up.

  I REMEMBER GOING SKATING WITH MY SCHOOL

  back when I was in grade 3. The rink was down King Street and we walked. We had buddys and we had to hold hands. Nancy from the front row picked me for her buddy and then got in a fite with Rich witch I didnt understand at first—I thot Rich wanted to be my buddy 2. But no. He wanted to be Nancys buddy and he didnt know why she picked me.

  It all came out while we were skating. I was practicing turns crossing my legs over and Nancy was saying Wow and Way to go Bunny. Rich tripped me as I past him so I was lying on the ice on my back looking up at the 2 of them.

  Hes stupid said Rich.

  Meaning me.

  Hes the stupidest kid in the class.

  I dont care said Nancy.

  You shuld be my walk buddy said Rich. Were both smart. You will be my buddy on the way home he said.

  No I wont she said and pushed him. He bent in the middle like a folding chair and went down so there were 2 of us on the ice. Nancy put her hand out to me and helped me stand up. And we went back to our skating.

  I think that was the first time I new about myself. Not because Rich said I was a dummy—I heard that a lot. But Nancy didnt say no I wasnt stupid. She just said she didnt mind. So I figured that I really was stupid and that it wasnt that big a deal.

  My snow pants made that zoop zoop sound when I walked back to school beside Nancy. I wonder what happened to her. We were in different classes in grade 4 and then she moved away. She had curly black hair and glasses with a strap to hold them on and no fear. Sometimes the important people in your life are not there for long.

  I AM SLEEPY

  and I drift from thinking about Nancy into a dream of falling. When I wake up its true. Theres a cracking sound and I end up on my side and theres something rong with the customs trailer. I wasnt sure befor but I am now. The floor has dropped away from the bottom of the outside wall. I can see a strip of nite and feel a cold wind.

  The music on the other side of the door is loud. There is still bumping going on—the dancing. I am cold because of the open strip of wall. I put on my glove and mitt. I think about standing up and shouting for help but a voice inside me says wait. You know that voice. The corner of the floor drops again. It is angled down and I am sliding toward the crack.

  Wait says the voice.

  There is another crack and the floor falls out. I end up on the hill under the trailer with a sore bum from the drop. It hurts like when you go over a bump on a tobogan witch is what the floor of my room is now—a tobogan.

  I slide down the hill on it. I look up and see the lites of the trailer behind me and the bridge over my head. I hit a tree root and the wood floor cracks but the plastic carpet keeps going with me on it so I go even faster than befor. Plastic is my magic carpet. I just miss a tree and then an other. The sky is clear and the moon is mostly full—like a Ritz cracker with a bite out of it—so there are clear shadows on the snow. When the moon lite hits the tree ahead of me there is a flash from a yellow sticker. Farther down I pass another flash. This is Kentons path. I gess I am going the best way down. I stick out my hands to steer but the path is pretty smooth. I only have time for 1 or 2 breaths and then the carpet flys over the bank of the river and I land on my bum witch hurts some more. The ice is flat and smooth so I skid and spin for a while befor I can roll off the plastic and stand up. I have to blink. The moon is brite and the ice and snow are white all around me and Canada is dead ahead.

  A minit ago US customs had me locked in a room and in trouble. A lot can happen in a minit. Holy crap says a voice. No this is not the voice you trust. This is my voice. I am talking out loud.

  I never skated away on a river befor. That song is in my head as I take off. The ice is smooth and the wind has blown off most of the snow. The skating is great. Left glide rite glide left glide. I hear a wolf howling. I gess he is howling at the moon. It sounds erie and cool.

  I pass an island with a tree and nothing else—a desert island from a comic strip. There shuld be a ragged guy throwing a bottle with a note in it only that wuldnt work because it is winter. I pass an island with more trees and another island with no trees at all. I hear a booming sound come from underneath me and I stop. Is the ice splitting? Is there a hole ahead? I dont want to fall in. The ice feels strong under my skates but I watch care fully for a hole—witch is how I come to see the foot prints in a patch of snow. There is a rapper beside the foot prints—shiny paper that looks like it was on a hamburger. I remember what Kenton said about Alex and Brady crossing over to Canada to have fites when they were in school. It seems I am not the only 1 on the river tonite. I look all around but I cant see any body or any other hint of any body. The rapper is from befor. I skate and skate. I hear a train whistle a long way away and then the wolf agane. I see a shadow on a patch of snow ahead of me and look up to see an owl floating toward the US. It mite not be an owl but I dont know any other nite birds.

  Left glide rite glide. Deep breath. Glide.

  River skating is better than a rink. I feel this amazing sense of freedom. The open—the empty—the world—the ALL of it. Being alone in a big place takes you away—like you can float off and look at yourself from a distance. Here I am in my little life trying to deal with my troubles. Some people are worrying about me and some are helping me and some are making it hard for me and all the time theres this—this—this gigantic ALL all around me. It makes me feel small but also grate full. Maybe not grate full xactly—maybe more like you see how awe some everything is. My family only goes to church 2wice a year and I dont pay much attention xept for the singing and if there are donuts in the church basement after words so I am not talking about God here. I dont know anything about God. But as I am skating late at nite across this river that goes forever and the ice smooth and fresh and the moon shining down I am like—wow.

  Until I put my foot thru the ice. Then I stop thinking big thots and go back to worrying.

  I AM WET UP TO MY NEE.

  I mean knee. Mr Wing made lists of tricky words for me. One of them was words with x at the start like xplain—witch you dont spell that way but I sometimes do. An other list was words with letters you dont say. Knee was on that list along with knit and know. And there were lots of w words. I still get mixed up. I dont rite knee very much. I mean write. I am sitting on the ice with my leg in the water. I try to pull my leg out but the hole is the wrong shape and I cant.

  Wrong is another tricky word. Sometimes I get it and sometimes I dont. Wrong and write. I try again, standing up so I can pull harder. My foot wont fit.

  I watched a movy about survival and it was pretty scary. This plane went down in the mountains and it was winter outside and it got gross. Spencer was with me in the living room and he kept talking about camera angles and how great this shot was and all the time I was thinking that these guys were eating each other. Ew.

  There is nobody for me to eat out here on the ice but I have to get out of the water fast. And then I have to
get warm. The movy made that clear.

  I wish I was in the living room with Spencer now. I wuld let him watch whatever he wanted. I wuld even make him a sandwich witch I dont normally do.

  The ice is thicker than a thick book. The hole is cut rite thru it. Somebody must of done that witch means that they stopped here and needed water so they culd fish or drink or I dont know. Whatever you use water for. Probly not to have a bath. People were here. Maybe the hamburger eater was here.

  Hello! I shout. It is the first thing I have said in a while.

  Help! I shout. The wind takes my voice away.

  Overhead is the bitten out moon and more stars than I have ever seen. I find the pail with Orvils special star somewhere in it but I dont care about north rite now. I want to get out.

  I hop around the hole slowly trying to get my foot in the same shape as when it fit in. Trying not to worry about my shivers and my foot feeling num. There! No not quite. Then the ice makes that booming sound and the hole shifts a bit and my skate pops out.

  I’m okay! What a relief.

  All this time I am looking down at the ice and my skate. I am consentrating—I think that is it. Paying attention. So when my foot is free and I look up and see the wolf rite there beside me I am surprised. I did not know it was there.

  WOLVES ARE NOT WHAT YOU THINK.

  Sure they are tuff looking and they have teeth and claws and all but they are not super bad guys. They are not going to attack you and carry you away unless you live in a ferry tail. Mostly they are shy. The TV show I saw was clear about this—nobody gets killed by wolves. Nobody. You are way more likely to get hurt by a cow than a wolf. Cows are mean.

  So I am surprised to see this wolf but not worryed at all. OK maybe a bit.

  Hi there I say. I test my wet leg. It squelches but it still works. There is ice on my skate blade. I bend down to slide it off. The wolf is pacing a few feet away from me.

  Good dog. That sounds wrong as soon as I say it. Wolfs are like dogs but they are not dogs. No way is this a dog.