Josie rushed over with a towel.
“Sahalia, your shirt is totally see-through,” Josie clucked. Josie darted a glance at us and saw what we all were now trying to hide—that we had noticed what Sahalia wanted us to notice.
As Josie busied herself wrapping Sahalia in a towel I saw Sahalia look at Jake and at Brayden. A little smile played on her lips.
It was possible that Sahalia hadn’t realized she was pretty much sticking her butt in our faces. And maybe she hadn’t known just how sheer that shirt would get.
But it seemed to me she wanted us to see her body.
She wanted to be wanted.
When my turn came, I was glad to have the cold water poured over my hair. I very much needed to clear my head.
When it came time to wash Brayden’s hair. I saw Josie be extra-loving, extra-sweet.
I watched her tenderly massage his thick, brown hair; saw her dab away of any soap that threatened to run into his eyes; heard her murmur, “That okay?” and “How’s that feel?”
Brayden had his eyes closed.
All her little kindnesses went unnoticed by him.
He was busy thinking his way up Sahalia’s shorts.
CHAPTER TWENTY
WE GET HIGH
When my alarm clock rang at seven, somehow I felt twice as bad as I had the day before. A glimpse in the pink princess mirror Caroline had hung in the hall told me I had two spectacular black eyes.
I brought the mirror really, really close to my face, so I could see if my pupils were overly dilated. Maybe I had a concussion.
Max came bopping over. It was his turn to help in the kitchen.
“Dude,” he said. “You look like a monster!”
I considered roaring or acting like a monster in some way, but my head hurt too much.
On our way to the kitchen, I popped four Advils.
* * *
I fell asleep during breakfast. What can I say?
It sort of ran without me, with Max dishing out bowls of cornflakes and boxed milk.
I had my head on the counter when Alex nudged me awake.
I saw that breakfast was over and everyone had left.
“What really happened?” he said. “You didn’t fall off a shelf.”
“Who cares?” I said and tried to go back to sleep.
“I care!” he said. “Tell me what happened.”
“Go play with Niko,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re always off with him. Fixing everything. Running everything.”
“Dean, what happened to your face?”
“Jake hit me, okay?”
“Why? What did you do?” he asked.
I just stared at him and he stared back. He had this look of exasperation on his face. Irritation and disappointment.
“What did you do?” he repeated.
It hurt my feelings so much, that he would assume I had done something stupid. That I was the screw-up.
Never mind that I had actually done something stupid.
I wanted him to take my side first and ask questions later.
Tears came to my eyes.
“Get out of here,” I said.
“Dean—”
“Leave me alone!” I hollered. I turned my back and went into the pantry.
After a while, he left.
* * *
It was maybe an hour later. I had finished cleaning up breakfast and was just lying on the counter for a wee little nap, when Jake came by.
“Hey, books,” he said. “How you feeling?”
“I feel like hell,” I said.
“Yeah, I thought you might.”
He slipped a couple foil packs out of his pocket.
“Let’s get high,” he said.
“Yes,” I answered.
One of the EZ-melt pain pills from the day before and one triangular orange mystery pill later, I was flying.
I felt relaxed but energized. Loose and happy.
We decided to eat cookies.
We decided to eat one of every type of cookie in the very abundant cookie aisle.
“Friggin’ Chips Ahoy,” I said. “Classic.”
“Soft or hard?” Jake said.
“They’re not called soft, they’re called chewy,” I corrected him.
“Chewy!” He laughed. “You kill me.”
He grabbed some bags off the shelf.
“Here’s where we’re going to get into trouble. Mint Milanos. Orange Milanos. Plain Milanos. Double dark chocolate Milanos. Why do they need so many Milanos?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “There’s like a Milano for every human being in the world.”
“Shoot,” Jake drawled. “There probably is now. There’s only twenty or so of us left!”
And we howled.
“Oh my God, I feel GREAT!” I said.
“I know. It’s crazy,” Jake said.
“Is this what you were taking the day of the elections?”
“Totally.”
“Wow. You so blew it.”
“I know.”
This struck us as hilarious.
“What are you guys doing?” asked Max, coming down the aisle.
I turned and ROARED at him.
Like a monster.
He screamed and ran away.
Me and Jake thought this was the funniest thing ever.
“Hey, you want to know something screwed up?”
“Sure,” I said.
“You know how they said the effects of the compounds on my blood type were, like, reproductive failure?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t get it up,” Jake said. “That’s what they meant. I can’t get it up for anyone anymore.”
“Jeez!” I said. “For you? That’s like a tragedy.”
We started to laugh and laugh and laugh.
“Oh my God, I gotta piss,” Jake said. “Come on. Let’s go to the Dump.”
* * *
As we passed the Sports Department, we heard Sahalia laughing.
“What do we have here?” Jake said.
We found Sahalia and Brayden playing air hockey.
Sahalia was wearing what I can best describe as a costume. A sexy carpenter costume. Maybe a sexy farmer.
She had on a giant pair of men’s overalls, cut off at the knee. Under them she was wearing very little. A lace bra and matching lace panties. You could see the bra through them because the sides of overalls are totally open. You could also see the lace cutting over her hip. You could almost see where it connected with the thong part in the back but, hey, I wasn’t staring … too much … I don’t think.
“Hey, fellas!” said Brayden. “Want in on the game?”
“Aren’t you two supposed to be working?” Jake joked.
“I’m in charge of restocking the Automotive section,” Sahalia said sarcastically as she lined up a shot. “But I thought I’d take a break for an hour or three…”
“Friggin’ Niko with his schedule,” Brayden said. “He thinks he can tell everyone what to do at every moment of the day.”
“What can we do, Bray, he was the people’s choice,” Jake said.
I was starting to feel woozy.
“What’s with Geraldine?” Brayden asked.
“I’m good,” I said.
“He’s high,” Jake said.
Sahalia and Brayden laughed.
“Some face you got on you, Dean,” Brayden commented.
“You look like you got hit by a truck,” Sahalia said.
“Nope, he got hit by me,” Jake said, smiling at her. He flexed his biceps. “Feel that? Them’s the guns what wrought such wreckage!”
Sahalia felt Jake’s arm. She oohed and aahed.
“Jake’s got size, but I’ve got definition,” Brayden said, pushing Jake back and stepping up to Sahalia.
He made a muscle and she felt it. She pressed her body up against his and slid her hands up and down his bicep.
“Nice,” she murmured.
; “Excuse me,” came Josie’s voice. “What is going on here?”
Brayden stepped back from Sahalia.
“Nothing,” he said.
“And what are you wearing, Sahalia?”
“Clothes, Josie,” she answered.
Josie’s face flushed and she grabbed Sahalia’s arm and spun her around.
“Enough!” Josie said. “We get it, okay? You’re sexy and you want to have sex with these guys. We get it. But, honey, it’s not going to happen because you are thirteen. Thir. Teen. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I’m fourteen in less than an month,” Sahalia answered.
“Go and put some clothes on,” Josie commanded her, pushing her out of the aisle.
“Hey, guys—” Brayden said.
“People dress like this, you know,” Sahalia said. “It’s a style.”
“Yeah, prostitutes dress like that!” Josie retorted.
This sort of reminded me of the discussion a controlling father might have with his teenage daughter. Except the teenage daughter was thirteen and the father was being played by a high school sophomore.
“You’re not the boss of me!” Sahalia shouted.
“Oh yeah?” Josie countered. “I’m in charge of the little kids and you are one of them.”
“I know more about sex than you do, you stuck-up bitch!”
Instead of yelling, Josie got up real close in Sahalia’s face.
“You are a child!” she said.
Niko came jogging over. He was dirty and sweating.
“What happened?” he asked. “I heard shouting.”
“Sahalia is throwing herself at the older boys,” Josie said. “And the way they’re responding, I don’t know what could happen.”
“Josie, we weren’t doing anything,” Brayden protested.
Josie turned on me. Me!
“And he’s high! Dean, you of all people! You are the one we count on to be dependable.”
“Okay, let’s settle down,” Jake slurred.
“She is thirteen,” Josie said, turning to Niko. I could see the tears in her eyes. They were about to spill. “A thirteen-year-old child.”
“I don’t like it when people talk about me like I’m not here,” Sahalia said. “I’m as grown-up as any of you. Jake and Bray know it. You’re just mad because they like me more than you.”
Sahalia threw her arms around Brayden’s neck.
He got red in the face, then he ducked out of her embrace.
“Sahalia,” he said. “You’re a kid. We hang out with you, but we’d never, like, do anything with you. I’m sorry.”
Her face crumpled.
For a moment, she really did look like the kid that she was.
She turned and ran down the aisle.
“You’re a jerk, Brayden,” Josie said. “I thought maybe you could change…”
Josie stormed off in the opposite direction.
Brayden held his hands up.
“Jesus! I do the right thing and everyone is pissed at me!”
Niko glanced at the three of us and then turned and walked after Josie.
Brayden turned to Jake and me.
“I need some of whatever you’re on.”
* * *
I left them after Brayden took the pills. I didn’t want any more. I didn’t really want anything more to do with them, to tell the truth.
And I had to lie down. ASAP.
* * *
I needed a favor and I didn’t have anyone else I could ask.
He was working at a desk near the kids. He had three or four different electronic devices spilled out on the desk and was grafting parts of them together.
“Alex,” I said. “Can you please do lunch for me?”
He looked up at me, cool and hurt.
“I guess.”
“And maybe dinner?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking up at me. “Niko needs my help. Actual, real help. To run this place.”
I shrugged.
“I just need a favor, Alex,” I sighed. “I’m sorry.”
And I was.
* * *
I went to my berth and climbed in my hammock and slept and slept and slept.
Through lunch. Through dinner.
In the middle of the night, I thought I was dreaming that Astrid was in my room.
I was dreaming that Astrid was in my little berth, standing at my side, looking down at me.
Then I got a whiff of her and I jerked awake for real.
Astrid was in my berth. And she smelled rank.
She looked beautiful in the iridescent glow of my crappy alarm clock. But she really did reek.
Stupidly, my first thought was that I was glad Jake had helped me take out the last cotton wads from my nose before I crashed.
There’s vanity for you.
She grabbed my hair and wrenched my head up so I was looking in her face.
“Don’t you ever spy on me again!” she spat at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“A-hole.”
She let go of my hair and turned to go. The space was so small that her body was basically wedged against mine.
“And no more pain pills. They’ll ruin you. They’ll make you into an idiot.”
“Astrid, please,” I said.
“What?”
“I am really, really sorry.”
I sat up, awkwardly, swinging one leg over the side on my hammock. My leg brushed her thigh and she didn’t pull away.
“I was going to get my journal and I saw you two and … It was wrong. It was so wrong. Especially because…”
“Because what?” she said.
My mouth was dry. My heart was pounding.
“Because I … I care about you.” I said, then I backtracked some. “I want you to feel better. I want you to come back and be with us.”
In the glow from my clock, I couldn’t see her that well. But I thought I caught a glimpse of a streak of tears on her face.
“Save it,” she said. “Spying on me. Getting high. Scaring Max. It’s not okay.”
I felt so low. Like a worm.
“I need you to stay one of the good guys,” she said softly.
And then she left.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE HATCH
At seven a.m., I didn’t wake up Chloe. She was supposed to be my helper for the day. I bumped her and instead I woke up Max.
“Max,” I whispered into the nest where he lay curled up with Ulysses and Batiste. The little kids didn’t have hammocks. They slept on crib mattresses set side to side.
The three boys looked both feral and adorable, like wolf puppies in a den. Their hair was messed up, and the sheets and blankets were all twisted up. They looked like the wild boys from Peter Pan.
“Max,” I said, shaking him gently.
“Yeah?”
“Will you be my helper today?”
“Again?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I owe you.”
“Two days in a row, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Heck, yeah, I will!” he said as he lurched, still half asleep, to his feet.
* * *
As we walked to the Kitchen, he pulled on a fleece jacket. It seemed to be getting colder day by day. Maybe that’s what happened when the sun’s rays are blocked out by a giant metallic cloud.
“So, what’s for breakfast?” I asked him.
“Sundaes.”
“Like ice cream sundaes?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
“Max, I don’t think that’s a good idea. We need food, real food, to start the day.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But still. You do owe me, like you said.”
“Well, Max…”
“You were awful mean to me yesterday and you did make me cry…”
I should have said no. But I shrugged. “Okay.”
Why not? We could serve nuts to put on top, or something …
We loaded the shopping ca
rt with sundae accoutrements.
“You know who has the best sundaes? The Village Inn,” Max said.
“Really?” I murmured. My head was aching again. The bruises, from what I’d seen, were even more brutal than the day before. There was some blood in my left eye.
To tell the truth, I thought I looked kind of tough.
But my head—I needed coffee and Advil.
“Once we was eating at the Village Inn and my mom went off to the bathroom,” Max said as he tossed a bottle of strawberry syrup into the cart. “My mom took forever and then my dad went off to see what was taking her so long and they did not come back for the longest time. And I sat there and waited and waited and the waitress asked me if we wanted dessert and I said sure. So then she brought me a banana split, like I had asked for, and I ate it. And I was going to share it with my mom and dad but they took so terrible long I decided to eat the whole thing up and then I didn’t feel so hot and I went to the bathroom to look for my dad and he wasn’t even there so I just went back to the booth and then the waitress woke me up and she made me tell her my phone number and she called my mom and it turned out they had just plumb forgot me there and they had gone on home without me.”
“Jeez, Max,” I said. “That’s terrible.”
“That ever happen to you?” he asked me.
“Not really,” I said.
“Yeah,” Max said. “It’s ’cause your folks probly don’t drink like my folks do.”
“No, not so much,” I agreed.
“But you know what the upside was,” Max said. “They forgot to charge us for the banana split!”
I had to hand it to him. That kid could really tell a story.
* * *
So we laid out the sundae bar. It was pretty impressive. We had nine flavors of ice cream, from vanilla to Chocolate Moose Tracks. Hot fudge, caramel, butterscotch, pineapple, strawberry. Every type of topping: crushed Oreos, gummy bears, gummy worms, all the nuts, chocolate chips, butterscotch morsels, white chocolate chips.
“They’re gonna flip!” Max said.
“I agree. Hey, Max—”
“They’re not going to believe it!”
“I know,” I said. “Max, about yesterday. I’m sorry that I yelled at you. That wasn’t a nice thing to do.”
“Pshaw, yesterday’s over. I never think about yesterday. If I did, I’d be dead meat.”
He took a maraschino cherry out of the open jar and popped it in his mouth.
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