Free Signal by Cynthia DeFelice Page A

smiles.
    “I know, I know,” I say. “Tootsie Rolls first, dinner later. That’s the way you aliens do it.”
    “Careful who you call an alien,” Cam says, ripping the bag open. “Where I’m from,
you’re
the alien.”
    “Speaking of that,” I say, “you invited me to go back ‘home’ with you, but you still haven’t told me much about what it’s like there.”
    “True,” says Cam. “Before I tell you, let’s get comfortable. I want to watch the fire.” She wriggles around so her head is at the tent’s doorway and rolls over on her stomach. “That’s better.”
    I do the same thing, and we lie on our bellies with Josie between us, gazing into the flames, which are holding their own against the drizzle.
    Cam sighs. “This is nice,” she says.
    It is. Now that we’re dry and warm, it’s fun listening to the rain on the tent and looking into the misty gloom outside the glow from the fire. It’s like we’re in our own cozy world. The odor of wet dog mixes with smoke and chocolate and all the damp, piney, wormy smells of the outdoors.
    Even with all the crazy things that are going on, I feel happier than I have for a long time.

11
    W E LIE FOR A WHILE IN COMPANIONABLE SILENCE , Then Cam says contentedly, “Earth definitely has its strong points. In some ways, I’m going to hate to leave. Especially since I’ve met you. That’s why I really hope you’ll come.”
    I feel my cheeks growing red. I hope Cam can’t see, or else that she’ll think it’s because of the fire.
    “We’ve been so busy hiding and getting supplies and worrying about Ray, you haven’t told me too much about where I’m going,” I say. Then I add quickly, “If I’m going anywhere.”
    “Believe me, the more you hear, the more you’ll want to come with us. So what do you want to know?”
    “Everything,” I say, and settle in to listen.
    “Okay, but first,” Cam begins, “I just want to say I’m not dumping on Earth, or anything like that, okay?”
    “Okay,” I say.
    “Because I thought you got a little mad when I said my people aren’t too crazy about coming here …” She looks at me with a question in her eyes.
    “Yeah, that was dumb,” I say. “I mean, Earth isn’t perfect, that’s for sure.”
    “Okay, good. Because the thing is, my planet started out the same way Earth did, but it ended up evolving differently. And, like I was telling you before, my people have almost stopped trying to make contact with Earth. Coming here is just too dangerous.”
    “Yeah,” I say. “That’s why you’re worried about your parents coming back to get you.”
    She grimaces. “Yes. But of course they’ll be willing to take the chance. I have a feeling … ” Her voice trails off for a second. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
    “Promise.”
    “Well, I feel like you bring me good luck.”
    I laugh. “That’s me. A real charm.”
    “Seriously,” she goes on. “I could never have gotten this far on my own.”
    “I don’t know about that,” I say.
    “I do,” she says firmly. “I knew that first morning when you came to the farmhouse. I thought,
This is my chance.”
    We sit in silence for a minute. “Hang on to Josie,” I say, and I get out of the tent to add more wood to the fire. The early darkness of a rainy night is falling fast, and I check my watch. It’s past eight o’clock. Dad could be home by now, and if he is, he’s going to be wonderingwhere I am. I check to see if my cell phone works, but there’s still no signal.
    I don’t feel like leaving yet. It’s so wet and cold out, and so nice and warm in the tent by the fire, and I want to hear more about Cam’s planet. I crawl back inside and break off a piece of cheese for me and one for Josie.
    “So,” I say, chewing, “tell me more.” I wriggle into a more comfortable position, gaze at the fire, and wait.
    Cam begins talking in a very soft, slow voice. “Well, people there—”
    I can’t help interrupting to ask, “Are they