Free The Twin Powers by Robert Lipsyte

scary thought elbowed in. “How did they find you?”
    â€œI don’t know. I thought I was home free, but then Buddy caught up to me and the agents showed up.”
    â€œYou didn’t take Buddy with you when you took off?”
    â€œHe’s Eddie’s dog.”
    â€œEddie left him,” I said. “Eddie said they wouldn’t let dogs in the hotel.”
    We looked at each other but neither of us said anything about Eddie abandoning the rest of us for a hotel room. Neither of us wanted to diss Eddie. Yet.
    Ronnie finally said, “I guess after a while, when Eddie didn’t come back, Buddy took off after me.”
    â€œWhy didn’t he go after Eddie?”
    â€œDunno.”
    â€œHow could he find you?” I said.
    â€œBuddy’s a spaniel. He can smell your tracks.”
    I didn’t want to say anything about Ronnie and smells. When I’d first met him and he’d been homeless, you could smell him coming.
    Buddy knew we were talking about him. He climbed into the front seat and onto Ronnie’s lap. Ronnie lifted one of Buddy’s floppy ears and talked to him in a little baby voice.
    Ronnie is gay,
I suddenly thought. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I believe in equality for everybody, even though you can’t trust most people. I wondered if Eddie knew.
    After a while, I said, “We can’t stay here. There are tracking devices in the car. The warehouse walls may not be enough to block them.” I started ripping out all the dashboard wires. One of them had to be the GPS.
    â€œI need to ask you,” said Ronnie in a low voice. “Can you see through clothes?”
    â€œI haven’t tried.” That was true. I hadn’t had time. I remembered the guy on the toilet in the trailer. I hadn’t looked through his
clothes.
“But I think so. Why?”
    Ronnie’s mouth twisted as if he was trying to say something and couldn’t figure out how to form the words. He kept stroking Buddy, nervously, harder and deeper, until Buddy started to squirm.
    â€œHey, what’s this?”
    Ronnie grabbed one of my hands and guided it to a spot on Buddy’s back, near his neck, where the fur and flesh were thick. I felt something solid, pea-size.
    I fingered it, and when Buddy didn’t seem to notice, I squeezed it hard. Buddy still didn’t react. It wasn’t part of his body.
    â€œMust be a microchip pet finder,” I said. “People implant it right under the fur, and then if the pet goes missing, they can track it. It’s a kind of GPS.”
    â€œGPS? When are you going to tell me what that means?”
    â€œIt’s an electronic tracking device. I bet somebody used it to find you.”
    â€œThat makes no sense,” said Ronnie. “I don’t think we have microchips on our planet yet.”
    â€œThey could have put it in Buddy here on the tour. Maybe that security guy Brown. Takes a minute to inject it. They probably figured Buddy would always be with Eddie. It was a way to keep track of him.”
    â€œWhat are we going to do?” said Ronnie.
    â€œLeave him here, tied up so he can’t follow us,” I said.
    Ronnie’s eyes actually bugged out. His mouth dropped open. “Can’t do that. It’s Buddy.”
    â€œYou want to get caught again? What were they doing to you when you were screaming like a girl?”
    Ronnie sucked air. “I’m not leaving Buddy. You’re so smart, Tom—figure something out.”

Twenty-two
    ALESSA
    SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA
    2012
    Â 
    M Y room had a narrow bed, two wooden chairs, and a chest of drawers. No window. There were two framed needlepoints on the wall. One read HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS. The other read THE ROAD TO A FRIEND’S HOUSE IS NEVER LONG.
    The signs made me lonely and sad. I sat down on the bed and cried for a minute or two, then stood up.
Pull yourself together, Lessi. It’s