Free Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8 by Claudia Hall Christian

to the door. Uncle
Seth’s friend opened it. Charlie turned one last time.
    “ You’re Sandy’s
Detective,” Charlie said.
    Detective Red Bear gave a slight nod.
    “ That’s why you don’t like
my Dad,” Charlie said. “He used to ride you to find out who was
involved, to get you to solve her case. You never did. Uncle Seth
solved it last year.”
    Detective Red Bear gave a slight nod.
    “ Huh,” Charlie said, and
walked out of the room.
    Samantha Hargreaves held onto his arm. He
felt her hand as they walked through the maze of the police station
and into the lobby where he walked into Aden’s arms.
    “ We’re going home,” Aden
said.
     

Chapter Two Hundred and
Twenty-Seven Belong
     
    Monday night—9:17 p.m.
     
    “ You haven’t said a word
since you got out of your interview,” Aden said to
Charlie.
    Aden looked over at Charlie and turned left
on Lincoln Avenue. He stopped his Saab at the light in front of the
Colorado Capital Building before turning right on Colfax Avenue.
Charlie grunted. Aden pulled into the McDonald’s drive-through on
Pennsylvania Street.
    “ Do not tell your sister,” Aden
said.
    Charlie nodded and Aden ordered the boy a
meal deal with a couple extra double-cheeseburgers on the side.
Aden pulled into the parking lot so that they would have a chance
to talk. Charlie powered his way through the meal deal before he
said anything.
    “ Hungry?” Aden
smiled.
    “ Starved,” Charlie said.
“We had the hardest work out before . . .
before . . .”
    Charlie scowled and turned his attention to
his French fries.
    “ What’s got your goat?”
Aden said. “You know that holding on to anger makes you more likely
to use.”
    “ I want to.” Charlie
punched the dashboard. “Ow.”
    Aden smiled. Charlie gave Aden an impish
grin.
    “ Angry?” Aden tried
again.
    “ They kept asking me if
I’d had sex with these girls,” Charlie said. “Like I was only
friends with them because I wanted sex from them or like I’m a pimp
or something . . . gross.”
    “ Did you tell
them?”
    “ No,” Charlie said. “But
they asked three times. Three times!”
    “ Hmm,” Aden said. “What do
you think that was about?”
    “ No idea,” Charlie said.
“I felt . . . stupid . . .
ashamed . . . small.”
    “ Do you think they wanted
you to feel small?”
    “ Yeah, I guess
so.”
    Charlie drained his soda. The straw made a
slurping sound and he shoved the straw down into the ice. Aden
raised an eyebrow. Charlie nodded and set the cup in the cup
holder. Sandy would kill him if she heard him making that “foul
noise.”
    “ Did you have sex with the
girls?” Aden asked.
    Charlie looked at Aden for a moment.
    “ You’re as sick as your
secrets,” Aden said. Charlie nodded.
    “ Yes. No. I don’t really
know. Maybe. Probably,” Charlie shrugged. “You remember how it was
being out. You’re cold, high, and there’s no one telling you not
to. The stuff you have to do just to stay
alive . . . It was nice to have someone warm and
there at night. But I never, ever raped anyone, or helped a girl
because I wanted to screw her, or . . .”
    “ Even when you were high?”
Aden asked.
    “ No,” Charlie said. “Girls
have always liked me. They called me Pan and . . .
Trying to help them, protect them, and the guys
too . . . It made me feel closer to my dad, I guess.
And the sex was just . . . life, I guess. I didn’t
realize sex was a big deal for kids until I started playing
basketball at East. I just thought . . . I don’t
know, whatever. You want to have sex, you have sex.”
    “ Even for Sissy or
Noelle?” Aden asked.
    Charlie shrugged.
    “ Is it different for
girls?”
    “ It’s different for people
who are sheltered, innocent,” Charlie said. “But that’s not me.
I’ve seen . . .”
    Charlie did a kind of hiccup. He looked away
from Aden and began to cry. Aden put his hand on the boy’s
shoulder.
    “ I was out for years and
years,”