Ghosting

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Authors: Edith Pattou
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the
    sidewalk
    in front
    of our
    house,
    my bicycle
    wheel
    bumps over
    something,
    something
    that makes
    a faint
    squeaking
    sound.
    I lean over.
    It’s a
    black rubber
    crow,
    with a grimy
    yellow beak.
    Polly’s
    favorite
    chew toy,
    faded,
    gnawed on,
    well loved.
    Don’t know
    how it got
    out here
    on the front
    sidewalk.
    I stick it
    in the
    back pocket
    of my shorts,
    and it
    squeaks,
    softly.
    I know
    the streets
    of this town
    by heart,
    from riding
    my bike.
    Holding the
    handlebars
    one-handed,
    I flip open
    my cell.
    After
    midnight.
    But there’s
    still time
    to stop
    Emma.
    To warn
    her.
    It’s a
    sultry night.
    Leftover heat
    from the day
    rises up
    from the
    sidewalk,
    but the
    rushing air
    on my face
    feels good.
    There’s a
    movie
    about a boy
    in a small
    Midwest town
    who loves
    to bike.
    It’s my
    all-time
    favorite
    movie.
    He pretends
    he’s Italian,
    the way
    I pretend
    I’m just like
    everyone else.
    Here is
    what I say
    every day
    when I get
    on my bike:
    Ciao, bellissimo Midwestern town of Wilmette.
    I pretend
    I’m off
    to Italy,
    or London,
    or Seattle,
    or California.
    In just
    four years,
    I really will
    be gone,
    so fast
    everyone
    will choke
    on the dust
    from my
    bicycle wheels
    as I ride
    out of town.
    Off to new
    wide-open
    worlds
    where a girl
    can be
    who she is
    meant
    to be.
    But for now,
    in this place
    and this time,
    I’m here.
    And I can’t
    let it all
    crumble
    beneath me.

WALTER
    They’re out there. The bad guys. I can hear them.
    Their voices, the sound of the car idling.
    Through the trees I can see flickering lights
    coming up the path toward our house.
    A sheriff has to protect his town,
    but he has to protect his home as well.
    There is no one but me to do it.
    I move toward the closet.

FELIX
    we watch emma and chloe go slowly, very slowly, up the crumbling stone steps to the path leading to the house. max is freaked out. i want to tell her not to care so much. to just let things go.
    Remember Joey Pigza?
I ask softly.
    max looks at me, her eyes wild, scared.
    Who?
    Those books I read over and over,
I say.
In 5th grade.
    Oh yeah,
she says after a moment.
    brendan is still texting, intent on the keyboard cradled in his hand. i hear chloe’s giggles drifting back as max and i watch the light from the two cell phones bobbing slowly toward the house.
    Joey Pigza was always doing stupid shit like this,
I say.
And he survived.
    Joey Pigza,
Max murmurs.
He was the one with ADHD?
    Yeah, like me. Hey, Max,
I say, with a big grin,
did I ever tell you how someday I’m going to do research and prove that weed is the best medicine for ADHD?
    max smiles.
    Good luck with that,
she says.
    Actually,
comes Anil’s voice from the back,
it’s not a bad idea.
    Really?
I say
    i turn around to look at him, surprised.
    Yeah, some doctors in California prescribe medical marijuana for ADHD, but there’s very little research to . . .
    another set of chloe giggles. louder.
    Be quiet, Chloe,
comes Emma’s voice, clear and annoyed. Loud. Too loud.
    anil stops talking and max’s smile disappears. her hands are clenched tight on the armrests and i’m suddenly tired of this whole thing. what the hell are we doing here? i should get max home, out of this.
    Hey, Brendan,
I say, leaning forward,
this is lame. Can you get your girlfriend back here so we can all go home.
    brendan turns and glares at me. looking at his slack mouth and dilated, glittering eyes, i suddenly realize how out-of-his-mind blitzed he is.
    Go back to your weed, dickhead. Emma wants her fun.
    Oh, that’s right. I forgot,
I say.
You do whatever Emma wants, don’t you?
    i lock eyes with him. max darts a scared glance at me. like
what the hell are you doing?
her face says. and she’s right. brendan looks like he’s ready to tear my eyeballs out. but i can’t help it. this i-own-the-planet, gun-toting asshole is seriously messing with EMFAX. god, did i just call us EMFAX again? that’s the third time tonight. i

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