Free Dodging Trains by Sunniva Dee Page B

toes on the ground, and he’s not acknowledging his father. That gaze, it’s hazy with bloodlust. Oh God, Keyon is some person I don’t know.
    I begin to cry. Cover my mouth to quench it, because I’m just a spectator.
    “What the fuck have you done?” his father shouts. “Do you have any idea of the consequences?”

    It happened a long time ago, and the consequences are over. That’s why I smile now, thinking of fierce little Keyon, so unlike the giant he is today. He’s in control of his power now.
    Back then, Tyler spent five nights in the hospital with a concussion, and Keyon’s father settled with both boys’ parents before they even sued him. He grounded his son for a month and banned him from martial arts training.
    It left Keyon in a funk for a few weeks, but not once did he regret what he did to his bullies. I couldn’t fault him.
    The first months after Tyler returned to school were quiet. Aaron and Tyler both ignored him and stayed out of his way. The rumor mill ran wild, exaggerating what Keyon had done to them. Some insisted he had broken a bone in Tyler’s skull. Another rumor had it Keyon had pulled his pants down and was ready to rape him when his dad pulled up.
    “Even though the onion rings are on the lighter side,” Mom says nodding toward my plate, “you’ll see they’re nice and crisp. They’re cooked through.”
    She wiggles her butt onto the seat next to me at the bar counter. Takes a bite of her sandwich, while I lift an aromatic calamari ring. Goodness, my mouth is watering. I only had oatmeal for breakfast this morning. “If you say so.”
    “Did you see the poster?” she asks.
    I narrow my eyes over the lemonade. “What poster?”
    “Keyon really grew up, didn’t he? The boy is even taller than his father,” she repeats an earlier sentiment in lieu of answering.
    “Sure…” I roam the room with my eyes until I freeze on a seventeen-by-eleven poster by the door. It’s colorful with a picture of some faceless girl in a Robin Hood outfit. No, no, no… bad feeling.
    My mother shakes her head, noticing my horror. “How did he not recognize you? And that’s interesting that you didn’t tell him who you are. If I were you, I’d be telling him five minutes in.”
    “Crap,” I mutter under my breath. “This isn’t happening.”
    Mom follows my gaze to the poster. “Well, Keyon always was creative.”
    I groan, walk over to the window, and read.
    GIRL LOST FROM THE CORAL MANSION
    “Mooom,” I whine. “He came by?”
    “Sure did. Was polite too. Said to tell you ‘hi,’ that he’d be in touch.”
    “What? You told him?”
    She’s having too much fun. My forty-three year old mother is giggling like a little girl. If it weren’t for the circumstances, I’d be happy seeing her this carefree, but right now?
    “No, he said ‘hi’ to Paislee, not to… Rubina Hood . Nice touch.”
    I flush. Angle my gaze at the poster again.
    Age—18-25
    Eyes—Iridescent green
    Hair—Long? Short? Red, brown… blue? Surely as gorgeous as the rest of her but unfortunately disguised.
    Height—5’ 4’’
    “He got my height right,” I say.
    Weight—Approx. 135 lbs?
    “A hundred and thirty-five pounds? Bastard!” I glare at Mom, who’s slapping her knees, laughing.
    “Oh hun,” she starts as soon as she can breathe. “Guys believe boobs weigh more than they do. Take it as a compliment.”
    “Boobs made of lead, that’d be,” I grumble and swing back to the poster.
    Last seen—At unspecified location on the second floor of the Coral Mansion. Enjoys whiskey and blue raspberry lollipops. Speaks English and kitchen Spanish.
    Other characteristics—Favors hot little female Robin Hood outfits. Often(?) found wearing a painted-on, black mask. Sticks to friends named Max, maybe Maximilian.
    Flees on impulse.
    Terrible at keeping promises.
    REWARD
    No. No-no-no. “Fucking hell.”
    “Paislee Marie Cain.” Mom’s plate clangs against the countertop. She’s unsurprised