Free The Bubble Boy by Stewart Foster Page B

crew?
20:10
They were great. Miss them already.
But why are we talking about them?
20:10
What?
20:11
Your walk!
20:11
Oh, my walk. Ha! It was OK. Not great
20:11
What happened?
20:11
It was weird. I got to the end of the corridor
and wanted to turn back.
20:12
Germs?
20:12
No. Saw this before I went:
http://www.myfoxphilly.com/story/24951458/9-shot-dead-during-violent-night-in-philadelphia
Happened yesterday.
Didn’t think my
     suit would keep out bullets.
20:12
You were only going to the car park.
20:12
Shootings happen in parking lots.
It was just around the corner.
20:15
But you went though?
20:15
Yeah, Brett checked the whole area like SWAT.
Drainpipes, stairwells, everything.
NASA said if I didn’t go now the schedule
would have to go back by a
     month.
20:15
A month?
20:16
Lots of men in suits here telling me what to do.
Not spacesuits. Suits suits. I had to go. No choice.
Nearly peed myself when they opened the door.
It was bright outside. I think the sun was out
but all I could see was grey tarmac and green walls,
because of the helmet, and they taped the whole parking
lot off so no one could get in. Big fence, couldn’t see over,
couldn’t see under. And my helmet was so heavy
I couldn’t lift my head to see the sky.
20:17
    I wait for Henry to write more but all I can see is the pencil, still, on the screen like he doesn’t know what to say next and I don’t know what to write either. I
sigh. After waiting for so long to go out, all he got to see was tarmac and walls. And I guess nothing much is different out there, really. Just more dangerous. But I wish I could breathe some
dangerous fresh air. Just one time.
    Henry.
20:20
Yeah.
20:20
Do you want to switch to screen?
20:21
No. I’m OK here.
20:21
Sure?
20:21
Yeah . . . But thanks . . .
I’m fried. Just want to sit here.
20:21
Me too. Not feeling great.
Got a bit of a sore throat.
20:22
Be careful.
20:22
I know
20:23
    I reach over for a cup of water. I drink it but with every gulp it feels like I’ve got a hedgehog stuck in my throat. I swallow again. It’s still there. I look back
at the screen. I really want to go sleep but Henry is typing at a hundred miles an hour, now.
    Got to go again tomorrow. Don’t want to.
20:23
It’s freakier than I thought it would be.
But the mall will be better. Going to be on Philly news.
Wish you could see it.
20:24
I’ll ask Amir if he thinks we can get it.
It’s going to be great.
20:24
You think so?
20:24
Burgers and hotdogs!
20:24
Not so sure.
20:25
Why not?
20:25
Mrs Rambo!!!
20:25
Who?
20:25
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/justice-story/mrs-rambo--killingspree-article-1.1211691
Henry.
20:28
Yeah.
20:28
I think you worry about getting shot too much.
20:28
You worry about car crashes, I worry about guns.
20:29
    My stomach aches; the pain moves up towards my heart. My fingers hover over the keyboard, shaking. I wish he hadn’t written that.
    Joe? You there?
20:31
Yeah.
20:31
Sorry. Just a joke about the difference
between England and America.
20:32
It’s OK. I’m just really tired.
20:32
Want to go?
20:32
    I look at the clock. I know I should go to sleep. But I love talking to Henry.
    I feel really tired and funny— like all the blood has gone from my face. I look at the clock.
    Henry.
20:39
Yeah.
20:40
Wish you could come here
20:40
Wish you could come here, too.
Maybe the transition zone is really a
teleportation machine. Zoop! Zoop!
20:41
Haha.
20:42
Or you could just jump on one of your planes.
20:42
Wouldn’t get past airport security.
20:43
Cut a hole in the fence. Just jump on.
20:44
Kid did it over here. Hang on . . . Here you go.
http://edition.cnn.com/2014/04/21/us/hawaii-plane-stowaway/
20:44
    I click on the link.
    Teen hitches ride in the wheel of a plane
    I scroll down and read how a boy climbed an airfield perimeter fence, ran across the tarmac, climbed up a wheel and hid in the hold of the plane. I smile. I can’t believe
it. The boy flew all the way from San Jose to Hawaii. He was sixteen.