by Jason Parent
“See you tomorrow!” Michael shouted, feeling invisible as his friend kept on running. Invisible was good, much better than being the subject of gossip. The day had gone by quietly, with Michael not noticing a single person whispering to another while looking or pointing in his direction. He wondered if he’d already become old news and was back to being inconsequential. Yeah, invisible was good, but sometimes it was lonely.
I’m still not doing cross-country, he thought, silencing Sam’s voice as it chimed up in his head. With another heavy sigh, he hunched under the weight of his pack and headed for the exit.
Outside, his detail waited. He waved, thinking he saw Officer Tagliamonte in the passenger seat. He considered asking him for a ride home, but in spite of his load, he opted to hoof it over taking the bus or a personal escort. He’d walked to school his freshman year and had always enjoyed the time to let his mind go blank. Sam’s apartment was farther than his last foster home had been, a good three miles away even if he cut through a couple of yards between parallel streets. His entourage might have a problem with his route if not because trespassing was illegal then because they couldn’t follow him. Turning to leave, he wondered if the cops would trail behind him the whole way. And as he began to walk, they began to roll.
Still, Michael didn’t want to go home and sit in an empty apartment, waiting for Sam to return with some greasy fast food or pizza. He certainly didn’t want to start his homework or read a book about whaling. He didn’t have to be a psychic to know he’d be Googling the plot of Moby Dick in his near future. The walk was a dramaless way of killing time, and he had time to kill.
Before he’d reached the bottom of the bus lane, someone called out to him. He turned back to see Dylan hustling down the hill toward him. Despite it being a rather warm September day, the new kid wore a navy blue North Face jacket that looked brand new. An EMS backpack, looking conspicuously lighter than Michael’s, was slung over one shoulder.
“Where are you heading?” he asked, showing off his metal mouth.
Michael shrugged. “Home, I guess. You?”
“Work. Mind if I walk with you?”
“Cool by me,” Michael said, sounding more eager than he would’ve guessed he felt. He pointed to his left. “I’m headed that way. What about you? Where’s work?”
“Brentworth Hospital. My dad works there too. He got me a job in the daycare center. Basically, I play hide-and-seek with four-year-olds while their parents get colonoscopies or radiation or whatever treatment their wrinkled old sick bodies require.”
“That sounds... fun?” Michael laughed awkwardly, then kicked a pebble along the sidewalk. He thought about mentioning that he knew a couple of patients there, then thought better of it. He shrugged, shifting the weight on his back to a more comfortable position. “Well, at least you’ve got some money to spend.”
“Oh, my dad gives me plenty of money.” Dylan shook his head, likely attuned to Michael’s sudden rise of anti-snobbery feelings. “That sounded wrong. Sorry. What I mean is, my dad doesn’t have me do it for the money. He says it builds character or some crap like that. I think he just likes having me around.”
Michael studied the sidewalk, looking for another rock to kick. Having a father who wanted him around was not a problem Michael could relate to. He chewed on his cheek, countering the burgeoning self-pity with the knowledge that sometimes having a father was even worse than having no father at all, like in Tessa’s case.
Tessa. “I’ve got a friend at that hospital,” he said quickly, anxious to fill the silence that had formed between them and landing on the one topic he’d already vetoed.
“Oh, yeah? Is he sick or something?”
“She... well, there’s a he too. And yeah, they’re sick. Sorta.” He looked up at this stranger who’d become his friend in less than a day—that’s what we’re becoming, isn’t it? Friends? Michael didn’t know. He didn’t know how to make friends, at least not with anyone normal. He pushed away the thought. “Maybe you know them. Tessa Masterson? Jimmy Rafferty?”
“No, sorry.” Dylan adjusted the strap over his shoulder. “I don’t really interact with any of the patients.” He flapped his arms. “I mean, I may recognize a few faces, but I don’t really know anyone staying there... or in this city, except maybe you now.”
“Believe me, if you knew anything about me, you’d be walking in the opposite direction.”
“I don’t know.” Dylan smiled warmly. “You seem all right to me. I’m guessing maybe a little hard on yourself sometimes, but otherwise, you know, normal.”
Michael guffawed. “Normal? Me?” He shook his head. “I’m anything but normal.”
They fell into a silence. After crossing a main road, they took a left at the bottom of the hill into suburbia. A lawnmower roared, out of sight behind one of the mismatched houses—a cape here, a Victorian and a raised ranch over there. The scent of freshly cut grass tickled Michael’s nose and made his eyes water. On the other side of the street, a pit bull barked as it followed them along a chain-link fence, its nub of a tail wagging. As the sounds of both dog and mower faded, the soft rumble of an engine reminded Michael of his escorts, having previously tuned out the sound before it had been drowned out by the others.
Dylan threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Does what you mean about being normal have anything to do with the police car that’s been following us since we left the high school?”
“So you noticed them, huh?” Michael asked in a hushed voice. He chuckled. “They’re my bodyguards.” He blew on his fingernails, then mocked tossing his hair back. “They keep all the ladies from swarming me. Maybe you haven’t heard yet, but I’m kind of a big deal at Carnegie High.”
Dylan smiled, his braces glinting in the late afternoon sun. “Big enough to get a police bodyguard? You sure you’re not some serial killer they just don’t have enough evidence yet to put away? Maybe after you kill me and toss my body in a river, they’ll have enough to hang you.”
“Nah-ah. There’s no death penalty in Massachusetts. You’ll have to get yourself murdered by some other badass back in South America if you want that to happen, assuming they’ve got that there.” Michael frowned and continued his search for rocks to kick. “That’s me—regular badass. The only kid in the high school to have almost drowned in a toilet.”
Dylan stopped and fixed Michael with a grave look. “So what’s the deal, really? Are they harassing you? If you want, I think I know a way we can ditch them.”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Michael searched for the words to explain. Just talking with Dylan, someone his own age who wasn’t locked up or—and he knew the thought was unfair as soon as it occurred to him—Robbie, was something he thought he could get used to. Talking like a kid with a kid—even though Dylan didn’t talk too much like a kid—just being a kid was something he hadn’t had a lot of time for before.
“They really are”—Michael blushed and looked away—“like bodyguards. My foster mom is a detective. About a month ago, someone attacked us. Attacked her, really. But now she’s all paranoid and thinking I need a babysitter twenty-four seven.”
“Wow!” Dylan’s eyes widened, and he poked Michael’s arm. “That is serious. They didn’t catch the guy? Do they know who he is?”
“No idea.” Michael tugged on his lip. “I think Sam—that’s my foster mother—has some idea who it might be, but she isn’t telling me anything. So yeah, I can’t go anywhere without the boys in blue. Except—” Michael sprinted across the next property at the curve in the street, slowing only to climb the stone wall in the back. When he saw Dylan keeping up, giggling, Michael said, “Let’s see them follow me this way.”
The boys laughed as they ran through another yard, this one with a swing set in the back. They listened to the police car’s engine rev then speed away, Michael knowing it would be back in less than a minute.
“Well,” Dylan said, backing away in the opposite direction Michael needed to go. “The hospital’s this wa
y. I’ll catch you later.”
“I’ll probably be heading there on Saturday. Maybe I’ll see you if you’re working.”
“Seriously?” Dylan raised his arms out to his sides. “Won’t I see you tomorrow in class? How else am I going to know what happens in the first four chapters of Moby Dick?”
Michael smiled. “You could try reading it.”
“You first, Badass.” Dylan pointed at him. “You first.” He waved. “See you tomorrow.”
“Later.” Michael watched him go for a moment, still smiling, then turned as he spotted the police car heading up the road toward him. Finishing his walk home, he thought about how much better his first day as a sophomore had been than as a freshman.
CHAPTER 9
Wearing only light-blue pajamas with yellow rubber duckies all over, compliments of some generous do-gooder who’d donated them, Tessa tiptoed to her bedroom door. In Ward C, essentially a prerelease ward, security was minimal. If there were any hard and fast security measures to keep the younger and older sort-of-sanes separated from the children beyond a bend in the hallway, Tessa couldn’t see them.
Nevertheless, she had her own room, cubbyhole that it was, and could do pretty much whatever she wanted within the confines of Ward C—which equated mostly to zoning out in front of the television in the rec room—so long as she took her meds, attended group sessions and all roll calls, and met individually with a doctor every other day. She was not a danger to society, maybe not a danger to herself, but she wasn’t healed, whatever that meant, and doubted she ever would be. No one ever said anything about the hospital being a danger to her.
Maybe I am crazy. Maybe it’s all in my head. She recalled Jimmy’s furrowed brow and squinty eyes when she’d told him her suspicions. She shook her head. It doesn’t matter if he believes me. He promised to help me anyway.
She creaked open the door and peeked out. All clear. The dimly lit hall shrouded many of the stains on the worn, lime-green carpet. She swung the door open and slipped into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind her.
Jimmy’s room was a left down the hall, first right, five doors down. Tessa repeated the directions over and over again in her head, a mantra to keep her moving as her heart fluttered against her ribcage. On bare feet, she stepped lightly, her fingertips sliding along the wall, ears attuned to every creak in the floorboards.
Thud, thud, thud, thud.
Tessa froze. The noise grew louder, footsteps coming her way from around the next corner, heavy and plodding like Link’s. Hands trembling, she looked around for a place to hide, the hallway empty except for doors. Think! She turned around, sprinted for her door, and turned the knob. Locked.
Her breathing quickened, coming in short gasps. She didn’t remember locking the door before she’d left. Doesn’t matter! Hide, you idiot!
Voices carried ahead of the approaching steps. “The doctor gets who she wants when she wants them,” a woman said.
Tessa sprinted past her room to a small alcove on the left where a laundry chute was built into the wall. There, she crouched and placed a hand over her mouth. She had to get her breathing under control, her panting as loud as a dehydrated dog’s.
Another voice, this time male and much louder, echoed down the hall. “She’s just a skinny girl. What good would she be for anything?”
“Shhh! Keep your voice down,” Francine scolded, her tinny voice unmistakable even without the sickening syrupy sweetness to which Tessa was accustomed. “Do you want to wake up the kids?”
The sound of footsteps died. They’d stopped somewhere in the hall, but Tessa didn’t dare peek around the corner to look.
“Besides, it’s not our place to question the doctor.” Francine’s voice was clear, close. They were outside Tessa’s room. She’d been right. They had come for her.
Francine knocked. “Tessa, dear. It’s Nurse Francine. I’m coming in to check on you.”
Tessa heard the rattle of a doorknob. “Shit!”
“What is it?” The male voice asked. Tessa was sure it was Link.
“It’s locked, you moron. Give me your keys.”
“Use your own keys.”
“I don’t have my—” Francine groaned. “Just give me your damn keys!”
Tessa heard a jingling, then Francine said, “Tessa, honey, I’m coming in now.” The door squealed as it swung open. Link’s heavy feet thudded on the hardwood floor inside her room.
“Well?” Francine asked. “Where is she?”
“She’s not in her bed?”
“Do you see her in her bed?”
“Maybe she’s underneath it. Or maybe she had to go to the bathroom?”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Check, you freakin’...” Francine grunted in frustration.
I need to move. They’ll be looking for me now. Tessa chanced a quick look around the corner. Link’s back filled the doorway as he stood just past the threshold of her room. He disappeared farther inside.
Hand against the wall, Tessa rounded the corner and crept closer to her room. She paused and leaned forward to look in, her eyes exploding open and mouth clamping shut when Nurse Francine’s back appeared no more than a couple of feet away from her. Link was farther into the room, on hands and knees and peering under the bed.
“Find her!” Francine ordered, her shrill command stopping Tessa in her tracks but jumpstarting her heart. “The doctor does not like to be kept waiting.”
Tessa moved painstakingly slowly, one step at a time, until she thought she’d made it far enough past her room to sacrifice complete silence for haste. She hustled to the intersection ahead, turned right, and sprinted to Jimmy’s room. As she raised her hand to knock, she heard Francine’s voice again. “Check the halls. She’s gotta be around here somewhere. You go that way. I’ll check this way.”
Tessa rat-tat-tatted Jimmy’s door, a series of short, rapid, quiet knocks she hoped he could hear. She could feel sweat pooling at her hairline as she bounced on her feet. Again, she knocked, this time just a little louder. Please, Jimmy! Come on!
The door swung open and she flung herself through it, pressing herself into Jimmy and her finger over his lips. The door closed on its own behind them.
Thud, thud, thud, thud. Link’s heavy footsteps plodded by as Jimmy and Tessa stood still as statues.
Jimmy’s eyebrows were raised and his mouth hung open, but he blessedly waited for her to say something before he so much as twitched a finger. The rise and fall of his chest against hers was strangely comforting, an ally close to her when she desperately needed one. As the hallway quieted, her heartbeat began to slow.
When her panic had mostly subsided, her face flushed with warmth. She stepped back and swayed. “Thanks.” Her hands behind her back, she nodded and gazed at his knees.
Jimmy crouched to meet her eyes, his own containing a playful sheen as if he didn’t quite grasp the severity of her situation. “Who was it?”
Tessa nibbled on her lip. “That was Link. He’s looking for me. Francine is too.”
“So... the guy with the huge melon head and the nurse I almost bumped into today?”
Tessa nodded.
“Do you know what they want?”
“I ran before they could see me.” She rocked on her feet. “But I heard them talking. They said some doctor wanted to see me and that she won’t be happy if she doesn’t get to tonight.”
Jimmy huffed. “What doctor? We all see plenty of doctors.”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling I don’t want to find out.” She looked over his room, which was a small cubbyhole just like hers. “They’re looking for me. They’ll be checking all the rooms soon. I’m not safe here.”
Jimmy’s boyish face lacked fear or perhaps the intelligence to know when to be afraid, the glint in his eyes remained hardened and indifferent.
“And now you’re not either. I’m sorry.” Chin against her chest, she turned and headed for the door. “I’ll just�
�”
Jimmy grabbed her arm and spun her around. “I promised you I’d keep you safe. If they’ll be coming here for you, the way I see it, we have two options—run or hide.”
“We can’t get out of Ward C. Those doors are locked at night.”
“A window maybe?”
Tessa shook her head. “You seen any without bars over them? We may not be in chains, but this is still a prison.”
“Then we hide you.” He darted about his room, tossing around his clothes and examining his belongings, quickly ruling out options, a sort of battle between hopefulness and defeat playing out on his face. Like hers, his room was empty except for his bed, a small dresser, and some books. There was no place to hide. It had been a mistake to go there.
He raised a finger, then pointed at his bed. “What about between the mattress and box springs.” He jammed his fingers under his mattress and lifted it. “You’re thin enough that you just might be able to squeeze... huh.”
“What?”
“No box springs.”
A knock came at the door.
“Oh, God.” Tessa chewed her thumbnail. “We’re too late. I’m sorry, Jimmy.”
He grabbed her by the elbow and put his finger over her mouth just as she had, then led her to the door. He’s handing me to them?
Too stunned by the betrayal to react, she allowed him to guide her to the door, then alongside it, where he pressed her shoulders gently against the wall. He mouthed the words, Don’t move.
Swinging the door wide open, he startled Tessa, who barely resisted the urge to throw up her hands to block it. She winced as the uneven wood at its bottom scraped over her big toe, turning her head sideways and biting on her knuckle to hold back even the slightest utterance.
“Hello?” she heard Jimmy say, the sound of his voice dulled by the solid mass between them.
“Uh, hi,” Link said. “Random inspection. Please step aside.”
“Oooo... kay?” Jimmy’s left side came into view. He was standing in front of the door, shielding her. “Um, isn’t that something the guard usually does?”