Free Guy Wire by Sarah Weeks Page B

face with a wet washcloth. I held my breath and waited for him to notice me there. Would he look through me again? Was he still mad at me for all the trouble I’d caused?
    It took him a while to see me, but when he did—he smiled. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen in my life.
    “Hey, Guy Wire,” he said weakly.
    I couldn’t help it. I burst right into tears in front of everybody, blubbering like a big baby.
    “Sheesh,” I heard him say, and that just made me cry harder.
    Mrs. Adams gave me a tissue, and after a few minutes I got myself under control. Over the next hour Buzz seemed to get stronger, and pretty soon he even began to sound like his old self. Mrs. and Mr. Adams went home to shower and change, saying they’d be right back. I was glad for the time alone with Buzz.
    “Do you remember me coming in here to talk to you before, Buzzard?” I asked.
    “No, did I say something I shouldn’t have? I was pretty out of it, I think.”
    “You didn’t say anything. You just looked mad. And I don’t blame you if you’re still mad.”
    “Mad? About what?” he asked.
    “The accident. Remember? I told you about the wish and then—you got hit. This is all my fault.”
    “You don’t really believe in that wish bunk, do you?”
    “Yes,” I said seriously, “I do.”
    “Well, go ahead and believe in the Tooth Fairy too if you want, but this wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
    “I told you to prepare to die,” I said, my eyes welling up with tears again.
    “I never listen to what you say. Don’t you know that yet?” Buzz said, “Hey, why are you bawling? Does your face hurt or something?” he asked me seriously.
    “No, why?” I asked, quickly putting my hands on my cheeks to check.
    “’Cause it’s killing me!”
    He laughed, and so did I.
    Then Buzz closed his eyes and kind of drifted off for a minute. When he opened his eyes, he looked kind of worried.
    “What’s the matter?” I asked nervously. “Do you need me to call the nurse?”
    “No, I’m fine. I’m just remembering something. While I was out of it, I think I hada long dream,” he said, “a weird one. Like in The Wizard of Oz , you know? All these people I knew were in it, only they were different. It was like pieces of the past were flying around in a sort of tornado, and you know who was in it? Mrs. Hunn. She was ringing that little bell she used to keep on her desk. Remember that thing?”
    This was too weird. Had it worked? Had my thoughts really reached Buzz somehow? Why else would he have been thinking about Mrs. Hunn, of all people? What if he’d gone along with me on that journey back to the beginning of our friendship? Had he felt what I was feeling? Been able to read all my thoughts? Suddenly something awful occurred to me.
    “Was I in your dream, Buzzard? You know, with that weird buzz cut I got after you got yours? And were the shamrock boxer shorts in it, and George and the fort and flying rice cakes?” I asked anxiously.
    “ Rice cakes? I said it was a dream,goofus, not a nightmare.”
    “You have to tell me, Buzz. It’s important—do you remember anything about—”
    But I was interrupted by a tap at the door. A hand reached in and flipped the light switch off.
    “Hey, what’s going on?” Buzz said.
    The door swung open, and there were my mom and dad and Jerry and Buzz’s parents. My mom was holding a big cake with candles on top. They weren’t lit, but Mr. Adams had a flashlight pointed at it, and they were all singing “Happy Birthday.”
    “I totally forgot,” Buzz said, trying to scooch up a little so he could see better.
    Buzz’s mom hurried over to fluff up the pillows behind him, while his dad raised the head of the bed so he could sit up. My mother had outdone herself with the cake. There was a very realistic version of Buzz on top, with little yellow candy sticks poking up for his hair, and mini chocolate chips for freckles.
    “Make a wish,