Free Freaks Like Us by Susan Vaught Page B

days before you go totally nuts, right?”
    “A few.”
    We both know it’ll get hard. That stuff in my head will come crashing apart—but usually I can hold it together for a while.
    Usually.
    Drip gives me another shrug. Then, “We going out the front door or the bathroom window?”
    And the VFW people and space seem that muchfarther away, and I dig through my memories of helping clean the place. “ Is there a bathroom window?”
    Third shrug. “Front door, then.”
    Seems reasonable to me. Everybody’s too busy hollering at each other to care much what Drip and I do, so with one last glance at the arguing, typing, ignoring-us room, we walk right out the main entrance to the VFW.
    A few running steps later, I realize one very important thing.
    It’s dark.
    I mean, it’s always dark at night, but some nights don’t have any stars or any moon and glowy metallic clouds seem to snake toward the ground and there’s fog and cool air and that’s tonight. Dark. Dark and cold. Maybe because it was so bright and warm, almost hot, in the VFW behind us.
    Drip leads because he’s got a better sense of direction than I do, and because he’s got the flashlight. I keep tripping over my own feet because I can’t see where I’m going, but I can see Drip’s shoulders so I keep my eyes locked there and follow.
    “Did you get questioned?” I ask him.
    “Yeah, but it was stupid. I think the guy asked me ten times what time we left. Why do they ask everything ten times?”
    “I don’t know.” But I feel better. At least I wasn’t the only one that got treated like nobody believed him.
    “It kinda pissed me off,” Drip says. “Why are they wasting time? That main guy said we’ve got twenty-four hours to find her, that this first twenty-four is so important, so they waste it jawing at us?” Every step we take, he talks faster and louder. “They don’t have a clue, but maybe we do. Do you think she’s there, Freak? Man, will her folks be pissed. Maybe she fell asleep. Do you think she fell asleep?”
    “She didn’t fall asleep.” Now I wish he’d stop because his questions make my heart hurt. His questions make me know it’s not really likely Sunshine’s at our place, but I want to hope she’s there. Even if she’s there, she’d never be asleep. If she’s at our place, she’s there on purpose, and she’s hiding. Lots of things scare Sunshine. Some of them should.
    Like you, you freak. Why did you do it? Why did you touch her? I wanna hold your hand. Hold your hand. Touching isn’t wrong. She asked for it. But maybe Sunshine thought it was wrong?
    Stop. Can’t think about that right now. It’s so dark, and it’s getting colder, and the air smells like rain or maybe tears.
    We wind away from the VFW down short blocks, then turn into a wooded area attached to the town’s only park. To get to our place, we have to go through the park, down a hill, turn right, and follow the path until trees break on either side of us. The park’s empty and the hill’s empty, atleast I think it is because I can’t see anything other than the gray outline of Drip’s back.
    In the daytime the clearing we have to cross seems warm and pretty, but tonight it’s not warm or pretty and when we run to the center of the open space in the woods, there’s nothing but scary dark trees and they’re everywhere, all around us, black marks against the black sky. My breathing’s hard and my throat feels tight and the trees look like monsters reaching and reaching toward nothing because—
    You’re nothing. You’re nothing. You’re nothing at all and you’re stupid and a big baby. Babies cry, babies sigh. Babies fly. Maybe the trees really are monsters?
    —Drip’s talking as we push forward but I can’t hear him. I can’t hear anything but static from the monster-trees and it makes my guts hurt and I want to scream but if I start screaming Drip will stop running and he’ll probably have to drag me back to the VFW and I’ll