eyes.
“I’m sharing with Karl and Wolfi,” replies the brown-eyed boy. He stands his ground, although he is afraid. “You find someone else to share with.”
Hans shrugs and turns as if to concede. Then, as a smile warms the brown eyes, Hans turns suddenly, delivering a savage kick to the stomach.
“Pepper!” cry Karl and Wolfi.
Hans grabs the blanket as Pepper struggles for breath.
The translation ended and I stopped reading, looking up. The beauty of the Sierra Nevada spread about us no longer spoke to me. I felt sick.
“It’s like the scratchy-blanket thing really happened,” said Will. “Assuming this is someone’s journal.”
I nodded.
“You okay?” asked Will.
“This book isn’t just a journal: it’s someone’s experiments written down. What if the other ones happened too? About the food and the poison? It’s revolting.”
“A twisted experiment in Eugenics and Behaviorism.” Will gazed out over the Sierra.
“Survival of the fittest. What do you want to bet this was Germany in the 1930’s?”
“It’s not written in German,” I pointed out.
A tourist bus pulled in, brakes squealing. The chipmunks fled our boulder.
“Time to go?” asked Will.
“Yeah,” I said.
I felt shaky as I stood. Will offered to help me down off the boulder, and I took his hand in mine. It felt callused but warm.
I couldn’t let go.
Will smiled, gave my hand a quick squeeze and released it, fishing his sister’s keys from a pocket. His very angry sister’s keys. Would she take him away from Las Abuelitas?
I couldn’t let him go.
“Do you think your sister’s packing up your place right now?”
He frowned. “The thing is, if Mick’s curious enough about you, she won’t want to leave.
She’s got scientific curiosity, but she’s paranoid. She could go either way.”
I felt cold stealing across my neck and shoulders in the warm evening. “It’s my fault. I don’t want you guys to move.”
“Yeah,” Will said, opening my door.
Yeah , it was my fault or yeah , he didn’t want to move either?
He started the engine. “Man, I am starving. Pizza Factory in Oakhurst? Mick’s buying.”
I nodded, grinning. I could always pay her back later. If she’d speak to me. If they stayed.
I shoved the thoughts away.
At Pizza Factory, we talked about cross country, classes, the French Club’s trip to Europe in December. We didn’t talk about packing or Will’s sister. We didn’t talk about saying goodbye.
We arrived back at my house as the stars were popping out. At my doorway, Will
brushed a hair off my face, lightly. Neither of us spoke, and then he was gone.
I should have fallen asleep as soon as I crawled in bed, what with an exhausting hike, a near-death experience and a belly full of pizza. But my mind refused to shut down.
Will is just like me.
How crazy was that? Will couldn’t leave town. I couldn’t lose him.
I had to keep him here.
I jumped out of bed, shoved my legs into the first pair of jeans I found and pulled a hoodie over my nightshirt. This couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I had to sneak out of the house.
I smiled because all I needed to sneak out of the house was a little running water.
Sylvia did my bathroom like those magazines with bathroom-as-artwork on the back
cover. And right now, what I needed was to run some water out of my artsy faucet into my artsy basin.
I flicked on the lights and started the water. Sitting on the edge of my tub, I gazed at the cylinder of moving liquid, but the florescent lighting overhead didn’t exactly cast the room in an inspiring glow.
I rummaged through a drawer of scrunchies and cotton balls and found what I needed.
Striking a match, I lit two votives, one on either side of the sink. Then I flicked off the fluorescents.
The column of water descended noiselessly into the basin, and with a luminary on either side, the water seemed to catch fire, pulsing and glowing with each flare and gutter of the burning candles.
I
“I’m sharing with Karl and Wolfi,” replies the brown-eyed boy. He stands his ground, although he is afraid. “You find someone else to share with.”
Hans shrugs and turns as if to concede. Then, as a smile warms the brown eyes, Hans turns suddenly, delivering a savage kick to the stomach.
“Pepper!” cry Karl and Wolfi.
Hans grabs the blanket as Pepper struggles for breath.
The translation ended and I stopped reading, looking up. The beauty of the Sierra Nevada spread about us no longer spoke to me. I felt sick.
“It’s like the scratchy-blanket thing really happened,” said Will. “Assuming this is someone’s journal.”
I nodded.
“You okay?” asked Will.
“This book isn’t just a journal: it’s someone’s experiments written down. What if the other ones happened too? About the food and the poison? It’s revolting.”
“A twisted experiment in Eugenics and Behaviorism.” Will gazed out over the Sierra.
“Survival of the fittest. What do you want to bet this was Germany in the 1930’s?”
“It’s not written in German,” I pointed out.
A tourist bus pulled in, brakes squealing. The chipmunks fled our boulder.
“Time to go?” asked Will.
“Yeah,” I said.
I felt shaky as I stood. Will offered to help me down off the boulder, and I took his hand in mine. It felt callused but warm.
I couldn’t let go.
Will smiled, gave my hand a quick squeeze and released it, fishing his sister’s keys from a pocket. His very angry sister’s keys. Would she take him away from Las Abuelitas?
I couldn’t let him go.
“Do you think your sister’s packing up your place right now?”
He frowned. “The thing is, if Mick’s curious enough about you, she won’t want to leave.
She’s got scientific curiosity, but she’s paranoid. She could go either way.”
I felt cold stealing across my neck and shoulders in the warm evening. “It’s my fault. I don’t want you guys to move.”
“Yeah,” Will said, opening my door.
Yeah , it was my fault or yeah , he didn’t want to move either?
He started the engine. “Man, I am starving. Pizza Factory in Oakhurst? Mick’s buying.”
I nodded, grinning. I could always pay her back later. If she’d speak to me. If they stayed.
I shoved the thoughts away.
At Pizza Factory, we talked about cross country, classes, the French Club’s trip to Europe in December. We didn’t talk about packing or Will’s sister. We didn’t talk about saying goodbye.
We arrived back at my house as the stars were popping out. At my doorway, Will
brushed a hair off my face, lightly. Neither of us spoke, and then he was gone.
I should have fallen asleep as soon as I crawled in bed, what with an exhausting hike, a near-death experience and a belly full of pizza. But my mind refused to shut down.
Will is just like me.
How crazy was that? Will couldn’t leave town. I couldn’t lose him.
I had to keep him here.
I jumped out of bed, shoved my legs into the first pair of jeans I found and pulled a hoodie over my nightshirt. This couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I had to sneak out of the house.
I smiled because all I needed to sneak out of the house was a little running water.
Sylvia did my bathroom like those magazines with bathroom-as-artwork on the back
cover. And right now, what I needed was to run some water out of my artsy faucet into my artsy basin.
I flicked on the lights and started the water. Sitting on the edge of my tub, I gazed at the cylinder of moving liquid, but the florescent lighting overhead didn’t exactly cast the room in an inspiring glow.
I rummaged through a drawer of scrunchies and cotton balls and found what I needed.
Striking a match, I lit two votives, one on either side of the sink. Then I flicked off the fluorescents.
The column of water descended noiselessly into the basin, and with a luminary on either side, the water seemed to catch fire, pulsing and glowing with each flare and gutter of the burning candles.
I
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