Free Finding Alice by Melody Carlson

for bird-dropping practice. I find it to all be quite hilarious. I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun.
    “So were you telling the truth?” he asks. “Are you really crazy?”
    I lower my voice and, imitating the doctor, say, “Well, we don’t call it that, son. It’s an illness, you see.”
    He shakes his head. “Too bad.”
    “Hey, I thought you said it was cool.”
    He frowns. “Well, yeah, it’s kind of cool. I mean I feel sorry for people who are, you know, all ordinary and boring-like. I think life’s way more interesting with a few kooks around.”
    “You think I’m a kook?”
    He leans over and appears to study me closely. “Maybe … maybe not. Can’t say for sure just yet.”
    I laugh. “What if I told you that I hear voices and see things?”
    “Sounds like you’re having your own kind of high.”
    “Yeah, but some people say it’s wrong because I can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what’s not.”
    “Hey, reality is all in your head anyway.”
    I nod. “You know what, you’re absolutely right.” The next thing I know, I’m quoting Brent Foster, high school dropout and doper extraordinaire, as if he is Einstein himself. “Reality is all in your head.”
    “Like my reality.” He leans back on the damp ground and looksup at the arbor. “My reality is to live and let live. Just hang loose … laid back. But my mom thinks I’m totally messed up because, according to her, I ‘don’t wanna do nothin’ with my life.’ But, hey, if I don’t wanna do nothin’, then why should I?”
    “Why should you?” I echo, then laugh.
    “Why should anyone?”
    “I haven’t the slightest.”
    “Just get high and be happy.” He spews a grape seed in my direction and laughs when it splats me right on the forehead.
    Feeling quite profound and intelligent, I say, “In the words of John Lennon, let it be.” Naturally, this leads us both into the old song. I remember some of the words and hum along with the rest.
    Before long, we’re both on our backs beneath the grapevine, holding grapes above our mouths and eating them like the decadent Romans—or was it the Greeks?—and I am feeling lighter than I’ve felt in some time. I think I hear someone calling my name. But it might be my imagination, and I don’t really care. Maybe it’s Amelia, or maybe it’s my mom. Maybe it’s the White Rabbit wanting me to go play croquet with the Queen of Hearts. But as Brent says—or was it John?—just let ’em be.
    “Alice!” My mom is standing over me now, looking down on Brent and me as though she’s just discovered us naked. I sit up and grin stupidly. Then I notice a couple of forms looming behind her. I peer up to see that it’s only the praying church ladies—Mary Cates and creepy old Mrs. Knolls.
    “Back for the next exorcism?” I ask.
    Brent starts to snicker.
    Mrs. Knoll steps closer and glares down at me. “Alice Laxton! Areyou smoking marijuana?” She frowns as she points to the twisted end of the joint still hanging limply between my forefinger and thumb. I’d completely forgotten that I still have it, but it’s clearly cold now.
    “Not anymore.” I giggle as I hand it back to Brent.
    She gasps and turns to my mother. “Well, it’s plain to see what’s wrong with your daughter and why she’s so plagued with demons. Why, just look at her!”
    “Anybody wanna grape?” I offer the ladies, holding up my slightly picked-over bunch.
    “Alice, I want you to come into the house right now.” My mother is talking to me as if I’m a preschooler, and I don’t particularly care for it.
    “Sorry, Mom, but I want to stay out here. I’m playing with my new friend right now.” I glance over at Brent and toss him a sloppy grin. He grins back, and I’m thinking he’d probably really like to play with me.
    “Alice!” Mom’s voice is like granite now. I’m sure it’s as much for the church ladies as it is for me. “If you are going to live under my