Free Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt

knew
     what the symptoms of concussion were, so he could fake it. But she couldn’t imagine
     James faking nausea and missing a meal. Should she take him to a doctor? How could
     she explain their situation to a doctor? How could she pay a doctor?
    “Just as well you’re not hungry,” she commented. “There wouldn’t be enough to go around.”
    James didn’t respond.
    They cleaned up the bones and innards and tossed them into the water. Dicey praised
     Sammy absentmindedly for catching the fish. Then they gathered up the sunbaked clothes
     and shook the sand from them. “Let’s get back to the campsite,” Dicey said. “James
     should be out of the sun. Don’t you think, James?” James nodded, but cut the movement
     short, as if it hurt his head to move it.
    Back at their camp they all sat around and stared at James. Dicey was pretty sure
     more than a half-hour had passed. Sammy wandered around, tossing stones, hitting bushes
     with sticks. “What can we do?” he finally demanded.
    “Nothing,” Dicey said.
    Sammy kicked at some stones. “Why not?”
    “You could take them to the playground,” James told Dicey. “My headache’s not that
     bad, if I don’t move. I’m not sleepy. If I could just sit quiet. You know?”
    “Are you sure I can leave you alone?” Dicey asked. “What about concussions, how long
     do they last?”
    “You’re supposed to keep the patient quiet for a few days, until the headaches stop,”
     James told her.
    “So we can’t travel tomorrow,” Dicey said.
    James started to shake his head, but winced.
    “Or until you get better,” Dicey continued.
    “That’s probably right,” James said. “I’m sorry.”
    Dicey swallowed back her crossness and impatience. “It’s okay, I guess. I mean, it’ll
     have to be, won’t it.”
    She scratched with her finger in the dirt. How long would they have to stay? Days
     and days?
    “I’m sorry,” James repeated. “I’ll tell you when it stops, Dicey.”
    “Okay,” she said. “Then we will go over to the playground. You won’t go wandering off, will you?”
    “What do you think?” James asked. He was leaning back against a rock, his face still
     pale.
    “Then we’re off. First stop the bathrooms. James, don’t you have to go to the bathroom?”
    “No,” he said. “All I want is some quiet.”
    They cut through the woods rather than going down the road. Dicey picked up a long
     stick and swung it at tree trunks, trying to work things out. They would have to stay
     another day, at least. She would have to keep an eye on James too, to be sure he was
     all right. But she wanted to get going tomorrow morning. She broke her stick against
     a trunk and picked up another one. But she couldn’t get going because it wouldn’t
     be safe for James.
    The longer they stayed in a place, the greater their danger of being noticed.
    As they emerged from the woods, Dicey saw the boy and the girl who had talked to her
     on the beach. Louis and Edie. Theylooked at her. “Remember,” she whispered to Sammy and Maybeth, “I’m Danny. Remember.”
    “Yes, Dicey,” they said.
    The boy and girl were even younger than they had seemed at night, maybe even sixteen.
     Edie had long heavy brown hair and protruding brown eyes. Louis had wildly curling
     brown hair and wore heavy-rimmed glasses, which he continually pushed up on his nose.
     His teeth were crooked, which made him look friendly.
    “Hi, Danny,” Edie called.
    “Hi,” Dicey answered, approaching them. “Meet Maybeth and Sammy.”
    “I want to swing,” Sammy said.
    “First the bathrooms, then you can play.”
    “You coming with me?” Sammy asked.
    “Of course,” Dicey said, then remembered who she was, or, rather, who she wasn’t.
     Sammy just grinned.
    The men’s bathroom was like a girls’ except there were three urinals in a row, and
     only one toilet. The toilet had no door on it. It wasn’t so bad. All the same, she
     hurried and her heart was beating fast