Free Set You Free by Jeff Ross Page B

you following me?” I say.
    He sighs as though about to tell me some deep secret.
    “I’ve been trying to figure out where Tom is. Then that whole thing happened with the kid. Of course, I was certain there was no way Tom had anything to do with it. But I didn’t know anyone else he might have talked to other than you. So I was hanging around your area trying to build up the nerve to knock or, I guess, hoping Tom might just show up.”
    “And when Tom didn’t show up, you decided to just follow me?”
    “I wasn’t going to let you know I was following you,” Grady says, then shakes his head again. “That sounds even more creepy.”
    “Um, yeah,” I say.
    “I’m worried about your brother, and I want to know if he’s all right. I probably didn’t go about this the right way, but I’m still figuring it all out as well. So if you want me to take you home, cool, I’ll do that. If not, let’s go see if he’s inside.” He reaches into the backseat, pulls a flashlight out of the backpack, then opens his door and gets out.
    I sit there for a moment. I hold my hand out before me and find it’s no longer shaking. Grady is fiddling with the flashlight. He gives it a quick tap, and it comes to life.
    I leave my hand on the door handle for a moment before opening the door, getting out and walking toward him.
    “Do you want a pair of shoes or something?” he asks.
    “You have extra girls’ shoes in your car?” I say.
    “That would be creepy. I have a pair of running shoes in the backseat. They’ll be really big on you, but at least you won’t step on a piece of rusted metal in your bare feet.”
    I open up the back door and dig around beneath the seat. My hand finds the shoes, and I bring them out. They’re at least two sizes too big.
    Grady says, “Try leaning forward when you walk.”
    I take a couple of steps, and the backs flap against the ground.
    “You could be starting a new style here,” Grady says. “Who knows.”

THIRTEEN
    Grady’s flashlight is insufficient in the wide open space of the warehouse. We can only see a few feet in front of us at any time, leaving the rest of the area a complete mystery. There’d been a piece of duct tape over the lock on one door. Grady had been careful to make certain the tape stayed in place once we were inside.
    “Stay close to the walls,” Grady says. The giant shoes bang with each step. I try shuffling for a moment, but this seems to make more noise.
    “Where do you and Tom jam?” I whisper.
    “In the next room.” He flicks the flashlight beam toward a door at the end of the space. Our footsteps cause riots of noise. There are so many dark spots. I wish Grady would move the flashlight around more, just in case someone is in the room. It feels like the perfect place for a homeless guy to live. I’ve had enough of those kinds of surprises for a while.
    “Is it weird in there?” I ask.
    “What do you mean by weird? It’s a room like this one. Pretty big and open.” Even though we are both whispering, it seems like our voices are bouncing off the walls and ceiling, amplifying as they come back at us.
    “When were you here last?”
    “One week and three days ago,” Grady says with authority. “We worked on ‘A Change Is Gonna Come.’ ”
    “What’s that?”
    “A Sam Cooke song. One of his best.”
    “Okay, I’ll trust you on that.” Grady opens a door and we enter a new part of the warehouse. The space is strangely arranged. There isn’t any consistency to the size of the rooms.
    “I wish he had a cell we could call,” Grady says.
    “Do you find that weird?” I ask. Talking is making me feel more comfortable.
    “The cell thing? Not really. It doesn’t feel as if Tom is really a part of this era. He’s like a time traveler from the fifties. He seems to operate outside of the modern world.”
    “He doesn’t use computers either.”
    “Sure he does,” Grady says. “I loaned him a laptop. He does most of the setup and stuff for