taken
Tommy's parents and his friend Leon and made his new friend Jessie
run away.
In that instant, Tommy felt a rage like he'd
never felt in his entire life. Instead of rolling and running away,
he turned over on his back. The sick man was bent over him, mouth
open wide, dead rotted teeth jutting out of his jaw. Tommy brought
his knees up close to his chest and kicked the sick man right in
his dead mouth with as much force as he could muster.
The sick man's head snapped back, and Tommy
felt the man's jaw give way beneath Tommy's feet. He brought his
knees up close to his chest again, and this time when he kicked, he
hit the sick man in the knees. He heard the bone snap with a crack
just like a dry piece of driftwood.
Tommy didn't stay to watch the sick man fall
to the floor. He finally did what Leon had taught him. He rolled
and ran, hauling his backpack along with him by one strap, and he
never looked back.
The sick man didn't follow Tommy out of the
restaurant. Tommy ran down the long boardwalk that fronted the
restaurant, and he kept right on going when he hit the sand at the
end of the boardwalk. He ran along the shore line following
Jessie's footsteps until they disappeared into the ocean in front
of the log where he'd first spotted her. She was nowhere in sight,
but he knew she'd stopped there. She'd left her sunflower
sunglasses on top of the log along with a notepad and pencil she'd
taken from the restaurant. The fishing pole was propped up next to
the log.
Tommy called for her, but no one answered.
He kept calling for her until his voice went hoarse, and then he
sat down in the sand.
He wasn't afraid that the sick man would
come for him. The log where Jessie had left her stuff was a long
way from the restaurant, and the sick man would have to crawl now.
Tommy would be able to run away from him easy.
He stayed sitting in the sand next to the
log until the afternoon breeze blew the notepad off the log. The
wind made the sheets of notepaper flutter, and that's when he
realized she'd left him a note.
I'm sorry , she wrote. I can't
stay. I think I'm sick too, it's just taking me longer. I had fun
with you. I'm glad you learned how to fish.
She signed the note with X's and O's, which
made Tommy feel funny and sad and lonelier than he'd been since
Leon died.
He remembered how warm she'd felt when she
slept next to him, and how pink her cheeks had been. Leon said not
every sick person got sick real quick, and not every sick person
got sick because they'd been bit.
Jessie must have come here to die. Maybe she
used to come here with her parents, and they'd warned her not to
sit on the logs, back when it meant something different to be
careful. So Jessie came here and sat on a log and hoped the ocean
would take her, but it hadn't. Instead Tommy showed up, and she
must have forgotten she was sick because sick people were supposed
to tell you if they didn't look sick yet. That was a rule, Leon
said.
The first rule.
Sick people were supposed to tell you they
were sick. Because if they didn't, how were you supposed to
know?
How could he trust anyone he met ever again
if they didn't follow the first rule?
Tommy crawled up on the log and sat there
for a long time after that. He didn't know if he was hoping the
ocean took him. He just sat watching the waves, and once he thought
he saw a seal on the other side of the bay. That night he made a
fire out of driftwood and dry bark, and he ate some of the jerky
from the stash in his backpack. He took out the picture of his
parents he kept in the zipper pouch inside the backpack and stared
at it in the flickering light of the fire. Sometimes he couldn't
remember what his parents looked like without seeing their picture
first. He wished he had a picture of Jessie.
For a moment before he woke in the morning,
he thought he felt something warm snuggled up next to him in the
sand, but he was alone when he opened his eyes.
He folded up his rain slicker and his
blanket and stuffed
Tommy's parents and his friend Leon and made his new friend Jessie
run away.
In that instant, Tommy felt a rage like he'd
never felt in his entire life. Instead of rolling and running away,
he turned over on his back. The sick man was bent over him, mouth
open wide, dead rotted teeth jutting out of his jaw. Tommy brought
his knees up close to his chest and kicked the sick man right in
his dead mouth with as much force as he could muster.
The sick man's head snapped back, and Tommy
felt the man's jaw give way beneath Tommy's feet. He brought his
knees up close to his chest again, and this time when he kicked, he
hit the sick man in the knees. He heard the bone snap with a crack
just like a dry piece of driftwood.
Tommy didn't stay to watch the sick man fall
to the floor. He finally did what Leon had taught him. He rolled
and ran, hauling his backpack along with him by one strap, and he
never looked back.
The sick man didn't follow Tommy out of the
restaurant. Tommy ran down the long boardwalk that fronted the
restaurant, and he kept right on going when he hit the sand at the
end of the boardwalk. He ran along the shore line following
Jessie's footsteps until they disappeared into the ocean in front
of the log where he'd first spotted her. She was nowhere in sight,
but he knew she'd stopped there. She'd left her sunflower
sunglasses on top of the log along with a notepad and pencil she'd
taken from the restaurant. The fishing pole was propped up next to
the log.
Tommy called for her, but no one answered.
He kept calling for her until his voice went hoarse, and then he
sat down in the sand.
He wasn't afraid that the sick man would
come for him. The log where Jessie had left her stuff was a long
way from the restaurant, and the sick man would have to crawl now.
Tommy would be able to run away from him easy.
He stayed sitting in the sand next to the
log until the afternoon breeze blew the notepad off the log. The
wind made the sheets of notepaper flutter, and that's when he
realized she'd left him a note.
I'm sorry , she wrote. I can't
stay. I think I'm sick too, it's just taking me longer. I had fun
with you. I'm glad you learned how to fish.
She signed the note with X's and O's, which
made Tommy feel funny and sad and lonelier than he'd been since
Leon died.
He remembered how warm she'd felt when she
slept next to him, and how pink her cheeks had been. Leon said not
every sick person got sick real quick, and not every sick person
got sick because they'd been bit.
Jessie must have come here to die. Maybe she
used to come here with her parents, and they'd warned her not to
sit on the logs, back when it meant something different to be
careful. So Jessie came here and sat on a log and hoped the ocean
would take her, but it hadn't. Instead Tommy showed up, and she
must have forgotten she was sick because sick people were supposed
to tell you if they didn't look sick yet. That was a rule, Leon
said.
The first rule.
Sick people were supposed to tell you they
were sick. Because if they didn't, how were you supposed to
know?
How could he trust anyone he met ever again
if they didn't follow the first rule?
Tommy crawled up on the log and sat there
for a long time after that. He didn't know if he was hoping the
ocean took him. He just sat watching the waves, and once he thought
he saw a seal on the other side of the bay. That night he made a
fire out of driftwood and dry bark, and he ate some of the jerky
from the stash in his backpack. He took out the picture of his
parents he kept in the zipper pouch inside the backpack and stared
at it in the flickering light of the fire. Sometimes he couldn't
remember what his parents looked like without seeing their picture
first. He wished he had a picture of Jessie.
For a moment before he woke in the morning,
he thought he felt something warm snuggled up next to him in the
sand, but he was alone when he opened his eyes.
He folded up his rain slicker and his
blanket and stuffed
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