combination of
alcohol, glycerin, and something called formalin,
which keeps the body from decomposing
from the inside out.
I barely made it to the men’s bathroom,
where I threw up in a urinal.
Viraj mocked me for weeks.
4. While I’m watching that dark, lonely house,
I suddenly see
a dim light flicker on
in a second-story window.
I see the outline of a person.
Standing there.
Looking down at us.
MAXIE
Emma turns around
and looks at the
four of us.
I keep my eyes down,
reviewing the images of the
headless stone angel
on my camera.
So who’s coming with me?
says Emma.
Brendan turns off the engine,
and the quiet in the car
suddenly seems suffocating,
like everyone has stopped
breathing at once.
I glance at Felix.
His eyes are closed again.
And I suddenly get this crazy picture
of our three younger selves,
back when we were
EMFAX.
It’s like stuff we did
in the old days.
Of course it was always
Emma who’d
dare us.
And, breathless with fear, we’d sneak up to:
the crumbling gravestone
the sleeping pit bull
the house with the crabby cat-lady
the dead chipmunk with its belly gaping open.
Urging each other onward,
a daring, heart-stopping
adventure.
Like Jem, Scout, and Dill
in
To Kill A Mockingbird.
A dare, to sneak a look
through the window
with the hanging shutter,
into Boo Radley’s
run-down, lonely house.
And Jem does it,
but a gun goes off
and he loses
his pants.
A gun.
I start to
shiver.
Let’s not,
I say, so loud you can hear the shake in it.
Scaredy-cat,
says Emma.
Like that long-ago sleepover,
and the words that
stung.
C’mon, Bren.
Emma turns to him, laying a hand on his arm.
He laughs.
Hell no. I’m the getaway driver. ’Sides, I’ve gotta answer this.
He has his cell out,
texting.
Emma turns and looks back
at the rest of us again.
Who’s coming?
she repeats.
And her will is so strong,
like iron,
unbreakable.
I picture Felix opening his eyes
and following Emma
wherever she beckons,
down the path,
onto the field,
along the railroad tracks,
just like he did
when we were kids.
I pray for his eyes to stay closed.
They do.
And even if it’s just because he’s
too stoned
I’m glad.
I glance back at Anil and Chloe.
She looks glazed.
He’s staring
out the window.
Then she turns to him.
C’mon, Anil, let’s go,
she says, voice sweet and low.
He shakes
his head,
definite,
but with
no expression
on his face.
Fine,
she says with a frown and lurches past me and Felix.
Her perfume is overlaid
with the scent of
MoonBuzz.
Emma laughs a
happy laugh
and the two girls stand by the car,
swaying slightly and
looking up
at the house.
It’s real dark,
I hear Chloe say.
Emma snatches her cell
out of her pocket
and opens it up.
See, just like a flashlight,
she says.
Then Chloe opens up her cell, too.
I grab
my camera.
Can’t resist the image of their two faces
lit up by the
glowing
cell phones.
Flash.
But the lighting is wrong
so I try it again without the flash
and it’s
perfect.
The greenish light from their cells
makes their faces glow in an
unearthly way.
Felix opens his eyes
at the second click of
my camera,
then closes them again.
A feeling of dread
suddenly squeezes
my heart
and I lean out the open
car door.
Emma, don’t,
I call.
She ignores me.
And the two of them
begin to walk
toward
the house.
FAITH
I love
riding
my bike,
especially
at night.
On
darkened
streets
like a
low-flying
bird
soaring
along
just above
the pavement.
Almost
invisible.
I snuck
out of
the house.
It was
Emma
who taught
me how:
to avoid the
third stair
from the top,
to ease the
screen door
shut.
When
I came
downstairs
I could
hear the TV
on in the
family room.
Polly almost
ruined
everything
with a
plaintive,
drawn-out,
don’t-go
whimper
when she
followed me
down to
the kitchen.
Quietly
I roll
my bike
out the
side door
of the
garage.
On
alcohol, glycerin, and something called formalin,
which keeps the body from decomposing
from the inside out.
I barely made it to the men’s bathroom,
where I threw up in a urinal.
Viraj mocked me for weeks.
4. While I’m watching that dark, lonely house,
I suddenly see
a dim light flicker on
in a second-story window.
I see the outline of a person.
Standing there.
Looking down at us.
MAXIE
Emma turns around
and looks at the
four of us.
I keep my eyes down,
reviewing the images of the
headless stone angel
on my camera.
So who’s coming with me?
says Emma.
Brendan turns off the engine,
and the quiet in the car
suddenly seems suffocating,
like everyone has stopped
breathing at once.
I glance at Felix.
His eyes are closed again.
And I suddenly get this crazy picture
of our three younger selves,
back when we were
EMFAX.
It’s like stuff we did
in the old days.
Of course it was always
Emma who’d
dare us.
And, breathless with fear, we’d sneak up to:
the crumbling gravestone
the sleeping pit bull
the house with the crabby cat-lady
the dead chipmunk with its belly gaping open.
Urging each other onward,
a daring, heart-stopping
adventure.
Like Jem, Scout, and Dill
in
To Kill A Mockingbird.
A dare, to sneak a look
through the window
with the hanging shutter,
into Boo Radley’s
run-down, lonely house.
And Jem does it,
but a gun goes off
and he loses
his pants.
A gun.
I start to
shiver.
Let’s not,
I say, so loud you can hear the shake in it.
Scaredy-cat,
says Emma.
Like that long-ago sleepover,
and the words that
stung.
C’mon, Bren.
Emma turns to him, laying a hand on his arm.
He laughs.
Hell no. I’m the getaway driver. ’Sides, I’ve gotta answer this.
He has his cell out,
texting.
Emma turns and looks back
at the rest of us again.
Who’s coming?
she repeats.
And her will is so strong,
like iron,
unbreakable.
I picture Felix opening his eyes
and following Emma
wherever she beckons,
down the path,
onto the field,
along the railroad tracks,
just like he did
when we were kids.
I pray for his eyes to stay closed.
They do.
And even if it’s just because he’s
too stoned
I’m glad.
I glance back at Anil and Chloe.
She looks glazed.
He’s staring
out the window.
Then she turns to him.
C’mon, Anil, let’s go,
she says, voice sweet and low.
He shakes
his head,
definite,
but with
no expression
on his face.
Fine,
she says with a frown and lurches past me and Felix.
Her perfume is overlaid
with the scent of
MoonBuzz.
Emma laughs a
happy laugh
and the two girls stand by the car,
swaying slightly and
looking up
at the house.
It’s real dark,
I hear Chloe say.
Emma snatches her cell
out of her pocket
and opens it up.
See, just like a flashlight,
she says.
Then Chloe opens up her cell, too.
I grab
my camera.
Can’t resist the image of their two faces
lit up by the
glowing
cell phones.
Flash.
But the lighting is wrong
so I try it again without the flash
and it’s
perfect.
The greenish light from their cells
makes their faces glow in an
unearthly way.
Felix opens his eyes
at the second click of
my camera,
then closes them again.
A feeling of dread
suddenly squeezes
my heart
and I lean out the open
car door.
Emma, don’t,
I call.
She ignores me.
And the two of them
begin to walk
toward
the house.
FAITH
I love
riding
my bike,
especially
at night.
On
darkened
streets
like a
low-flying
bird
soaring
along
just above
the pavement.
Almost
invisible.
I snuck
out of
the house.
It was
Emma
who taught
me how:
to avoid the
third stair
from the top,
to ease the
screen door
shut.
When
I came
downstairs
I could
hear the TV
on in the
family room.
Polly almost
ruined
everything
with a
plaintive,
drawn-out,
don’t-go
whimper
when she
followed me
down to
the kitchen.
Quietly
I roll
my bike
out the
side door
of the
garage.
On
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