Free Henry Franks by Peter Adam Salomon Page A

Brunswick News . He could only see half of the full-color photograph of police cars beneath a banner headline about the two bodies found the day before. The top sheet of paper on the pad, beneath Henry’s name and the date, was blank except for the one drop of blood that had fallen on it.

twelve

    Justine was in his seat when he climbed up the steps onto the bus. As Henry walked down the plastic runner, her mouth fell open and, as he sat down next to her, she pushed it closed with her index finger.
    â€œYou own a white shirt?” She smiled before her mouth fell open again in mock surprise. “Really? White? I’m shocked.”
    â€œDoes it ruin my look?”
    â€œYou have a look?” She laughed. “I guess shorts would have been too much to ask for?”
    â€œI—” He looked at her. Her bare legs were tan and a stark contrast to his dark jeans. A green tank top hid her bra strap but little else, and he swallowed before looking away. “I never wear shorts.”
    â€œWhat do you swim in?”
    â€œI don’t know how to swim.”
    â€œIs that another one of those things you don’t remember? Maybe you used to swim? How would you know?”
    â€œMy father made a scrapbook,” he said. “With a bunch of pictures of me from before the accident.” Henry ran his fingers through his hair, but it fell back down in front of his eyes anyway.
    â€œAny with you in shorts?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know, never looked.”
    â€œCan I see?”
    â€œMe in shorts?”
    â€œWell, now that you mention it,” she said before shaking her head. “No, the scrapbook.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Justine looked up, half-turning to face him. Her fingers, with their pale pink nail polish, drummed against the seat between them. She smiled. “To help?”
    He looked at her, studying the warmth of her smile, the depth of her eyes as she faced him. He took a deep breath and smiled back. “I found some pictures in the basement the other day.”
    â€œOf you?”
    â€œNo. I don’t know. They looked like me,” he said. “But these were old, black-and-white.”
    â€œDid they remind you of anything?”
    â€œI think maybe they’re of my dad.”
    â€œSo?” she asked.
    â€œWhen I went back to look at them, they were gone.”
    â€œGone?”
    â€œThe basement was cleaned up and the pictures were missing.”
    â€œMaybe your dad has them,” Justine said. “Have you asked him?”
    â€œI tried, but I don’t see him very often, really.” Henry smiled. “I live the perfect teenage life, no parents.” The smile faded. “Kinda sucks.”
    She rested her fingers on his arm, right above the scar, as the bus pulled into the high school. The movement slid her strap down her shoulder.
    â€œYou match again,” Henry said. Even through her tan, she blushed.
    They walked off the bus and into school together until her friends called her away. Still, she lingered next to him a moment longer before leaving. His scar, which she’d almost touched, didn’t itch at all.

    After eating lunch, Henry left the cafeteria and headed for the library, hoping to catch Justine before she finished studying. As he passed the lab he almost ran into the new science teacher, but someone reached out for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the way.
    â€œTrying to kill another teacher, Scarface?” Bobby said.
    â€œWhat?” Henry tried to shrug out of Bobby’s grip, but the much-larger football player held him easily.
    â€œYou live on the island, don’t you?” Bobby asked. “Lots of dead bodies piling up out there. I think I might need to start gathering some pitchforks and villagers.”
    Henry squirmed, but Bobby just pushed him harder into the lockers. The hall was empty now that the teacher had gone in to the lab. “Just let me