Read Online Loss by Jackie Morse Kessler - Free Book Online Page B

sand.
    The cloud hasn’t moved.
    Billy’s sniffling now, his nose leaking and his eyes watering. He barely notices; he just uses his shirt as a tissue and keeps on playing in the sandbox. Something’s not right, he decides as he frowns at the hollow tower, but he can’t decide what it is. Maybe he’ll make another castle right next to this one.
    A shadow falls over Billy.
    No, not a castle, he decides. A fortress. With wings, so that it can fly. He grins, inspired, and he reaches for more sand.
    “It won’t last,” says a man’s voice.
    Billy jumps, and he whips his head around to see a huge man dressed in white looming over him. There’s something wrong with the man’s face—it looks like it’s melting. Billy is about to shout for his mom, but then he feels three things, one right after the other. First, he’s horribly thirsty. Second, he has a sudden urge for potato chips. And third, he’s calm, extremely calm. There’s no reason for Billy to panic; if the man in white does anything scary, Billy will run to his mom. Billy is proud of himself for being so grown up.
    “Addison’s disease,” says the man in white. His voice sounds like it’s being pulled out of his mouth and dragged along gravel. “The adrenal glands don’t produce enough cortisol, which helps the body respond to stress. A feel-good disease. Just for you, Billy.”
    Billy cocks his head to the side as he looks up at the man. He’s positive he hadn’t told the man his name, and he’s not wearing a shirt with his name printed on it. Instead of feeling uneasy or scared, Billy just accepts it. “I’m thirsty,” he announces.
    “Of course you are. Dehydration is one of the symptoms of Addison’s. You should be thankful that I’m repressing most of the other symptoms, like vomiting and diarrhea.”
    Billy isn’t sure what diarrhea is—it sounds like a girl’s name—but he’s familiar with vomiting. The last time he’d puked, it was because he had what his mom called a “tummy bug.” Billy hates vomiting. By extension, he hates bugs. “I’m getting some water,” he says. When he stands up, there’s a moment of dizziness. The man in white catches him before he can fall. His gloved hand is cold on Billy’s back.
    “Sudden low blood pressure,” the man with the runny face says. “Another symptom. Nothing to worry about. This is all temporary.”
    “I’m not worried,” says Billy. And it’s true: He’s not. He walks over to where his mom is, going slower than usual because his legs feel a little rubbery, and he frowns when he sees her sleeping on the bench. The lady next to her is also sleeping.
    Actually, everyone in the playground is sleeping. Everyone except for him and the man in white.
    “Narcolepsy,” says the man, who’s watching Billy. “Extreme daytime fatigue, resulting in falling asleep at inappropriate times. Again, temporary. Get your drink. Then I have something to show you.”
    Billy rummages through his mom’s large shoulder bag and produces a juice box. Straw in place, he sips his apple juice as he walks back to the man. “Are you an ice cream man?” he asks, staring at the man’s pristine white clothing.
    The man in white smiles slowly. It’s rather horrible to look at. “I am many things. Why not an ice cream man as well?”
    Billy ponders this as he drinks his juice.
    “Come with me,” says the Ice Cream Man, who turns his back on Billy and starts to walk off the playground. “And throw out the empty box. Littering is a disease of the world, and I don’t abide by it.”
    Billy follows, tossing his juice box in a garbage can. He knows he’s not supposed to talk to strangers or go with them anywhere. But this man knows his name. And besides, Billy is feeling so calm that he feels good, really good, like he just ate something tasty and is feeling it settle comfortably in his belly.
    The Ice Cream Man walks, a cloud of dust in his wake, and Billy Ballard follows as if in a dream.
    At the