Free You Can Run by Norah McClintock Page A

Sunday—if he has all his homework and his chores done. Sometimes we get together. And every Tuesday, he gets a pass so that he can have dinner with his aunt. Nick doesn’t have any parents. He’s going to live with his aunt after he’s released.
    This was Tuesday and because I was worried about him, I took the bus over to his aunt’s house after school. On the way, I thought about how he had acted the last time I saw him. Something was wrong. But was it something with me? Was something else bothering Nick?
    I stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes after I got off the bus and thought about what I would say.“Hi, Nick. How ya doin’, Nick? So, Nick, are we going out or what?”
    Right.
    If ever there was a question that was guaranteed to send a guy running in the opposite direction, that was it. According to Morgan, guys were commitment phobes. If you wanted to find out what they were thinking about your relationship, you had to be careful not to scare them, which meant you had to be indirect. So I stopped at a store on my way to his aunt’s house and bought the latest issue of
Dogs Today
. Nick loves dogs. He planned to get one after he settled in with his aunt. I decided to tell him that I’d seen the magazine and thought he’d like to read it. I’d see where things went from there.
    I was halfway up the sagging porch steps when I heard a crash, followed by what sounded like something shattering. Then I heard a voice—an angry male voice— say, “Now look what you’ve done.”
    I hesitated.
    â€œPick that up before your aunt gets back,” the same male voice said. It was deep and husky, a smoker’s voice.
    I heard another sharp sound—not a crash, not something breaking, but more like a smack or a slap.
    â€œHey!” the husky voice said. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    I stepped back from the door at precisely the moment it exploded open. Nick burst out onto the porch. He looked at me, but in a funny way, like he didn’t really see me.
    â€œHey!” the voice said again. The door opened again and a man stepped out. He was big and was wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. He made a grab for Nick, but pulled back when he saw me.
    â€œWhat do you want?” he said. He kept his eyes hard on me, like he was daring me to blink or look away. I don’t know all the reasons why, but right away, I didn’t like the guy.
    â€œI’m a friend of Nick’s,” I said.
    Nick was shaking his head at me. What? I wasn’t his friend? No, that wasn’t it. He was shaking his head as if he didn’t want me to say anything at all.
    The man stepped out onto the porch. He was as tall as my father, but a lot bulkier. He looked like he’d make a good bouncer or maybe a champion WWE wrestler. He gave me a thorough once-over.
    â€œSorry, but Nick can’t come out to play,” he said. He made the word
play
sound like the last thing you’d want your children to be doing.“He’s got some business inside.”
    I glanced at Nick. He was cradling his left arm as he glowered at the big man. Then he turned his back on the man and started down the porch steps. The man reached for him, shoving me aside. He grabbed Nick by the left arm. Nick let out a yowl.
    â€œInside,” the man said. “Now.”
    â€œYou’re hurting him,” I said.
    The man hung onto Nick but turned his attention to me.
    â€œRun along, sweetheart,” he said, “before—”
    That’s as far as he got before Nick twisted away from him. Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me down the porch steps two at a time. He pelted down the street, dragging me along with him, running so fast for so long that I thought my lungs would burst. He kept running until we reached a park that ran along the bank of a river that meandered through the city. He pulled me down into the park, away from the streets and the cars.