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The glass bottle and stopper went into my backpack, along with necessities and cash from my dad’s desk drawer.
I put on a yellow shirt, left a note for my parents, and hit the road.
22. You can carry a person’s soul in an object of great meaning to them. No matter how far away they died, you can bring them home again, so they aren’t angry or lonely; so they can sleep quietly in the ground.
I shake all the way down the highway, my hands trembling on the wheel, but I don’t turn around. I owe my grandmother a favor. I know how she missed home.
Jake appears just as I’m walking into the airport.
You go
He’s solid now; if people weren’t walking right through him, I’d think he was real.
His eyes are green.
I tilt my head. “You want me to?”
He shrugs. I’d go back if you sent me, but I thought maybe you want a friend.
“I can do it alone,” I say. It’s important, now, to be able to be lonely and still survive.
He slides his hand through mine.
I know, he says. But I’m with you, if you want.
I wait him out for three seconds before I smile.
23. It’s just as weird as being alive. You figure it out as you go.
All Smiles
by STEVE BERMAN
Drowning felt like a real possibility. The cold rain came down hard, soaking Saul through each layer of clothing: the faded peacoat he’d stolen from Cotre Ranch, the Red Caps T-shirt he’d bought at their Philly concert, the waffle-weave long sleeve, and the boxers and jeans he’d been wearing for too many days and nights. His socks and sneakers were saturated sponges; every step down the shoulder of the highway made him shiver.
Every time Saul heard a car approach, he would turn back into the force of the wind, letting the rain sting his face. He would squint and, if he didn’t recognize the car from the ranch, he’d raise an arm, thumb out for a ride. And the cars swooshed past, and he’d walk on.
By nightfall, the air might freeze him. But he’d been on so many forced marches the last few weeks, he imagined his corpse would keep walking.
A car stopped yards ahead of him. The passenger door opened wide. Saul blinked away the water ru
He ran up to the car. Warm air seeped from the interior. From behind the steering wheel, a dark-haired girl in her early twenties leaned over and patted the passenger seat, now speckled with rainwater. “Need an ark, Noah?”
A giggle came from the backseat as Saul climbed inside. The vent near his face gushed hot air, a forgotten piece of summer trapped within the car. Saul slammed shut the door just as the girl stepped hard on the gas pedal.
He noticed the glove compartment hung open and stuffed with maps, folded wrong so they accordioned, and papers.
“Introductions,” she said. Saul noticed she had the most dazzling smile he’d ever seen. Perfect, expressive, expensive. He caught himself staring at her smile a bit too long, which only made her grin wider.
Saul brushed back the wet hair along his head and offered his name.
“I’m Dutch, and back there,” she said, stabbing behind her shoulder, “is Marley.”
Marley leaned forward and offered Saul a smile that matched Dutch’s in brilliance and intensity. He also had dark hair, though his was just shy of stubble compared to her longer tresses. Both wore matching white button-down shirts and black slacks. Both had the topmost buttons undone to reveal plenty of smooth skin.
Siblings, Saul was sure. Both good-looking and with the confidence that meant if they weren’t rich, they had once been so.
“What’s a night like this doing to a boy like you?” Marley asked, followed by another giggle that belonged to a toddler.
“Ru
Saul nodded. Cotre Ranch might tell parents it was an “outdoor behavioral health care facility,” but it was really a gulag to help kids kick their drug habits through hard labor and obstacle courses. Punishment for doing a little herbal and a couple bumps of crystal meth — how else could he entertain himself? His parents hadn’t asked him if he’d like to move from Jersey to Iowa.
The motion of the car and the intense heat made him sleepy. As an inmate of the ranch, he’d been rising at dawn only to collapse on a stiff bunk every night. And even then, sleep wasn’t a guarantee: Every so often there were random night checks when a “counselor” would try to sneak up on a sleeping kid. If they could do so without waking him, it meant an hour’s worth of scrubbing floors. Saul learned fast to wake at the slightest creak.
“You’re not ax murderers, are you?” he asked.
Both siblings laughed. Dutch, at least, had a normal laugh. “No, no. Nothing like that.”
Saul’s right arm itched. He rubbed it through the peacoat. He was covered in so many bruises and scabs from all the tough love. His hands were either all blister or callus.
“No hobo bag?” Marley tugged at Saul’s wilted collar. “I always loved those cartoon hobos.”
“You’re traveling light,” Dutch said.
Saul felt too tired to shrug. “Nothing to hold me down.” Truth was, the goon staff had locked away most of his things after his parents had dropped him off at the ranch. He wasn’t sure if he should be missing things. What did empty pockets say about a guy?
He looked out the window, scratched at the cheap, tinted film with a dirty thumbnail. The thought of freedom was intoxicating. “I could go anywhere,” he muttered. His original plan had been to make his way back to Jersey, but that now seemed as empty of promise as knocking at his parents’ door. There was nowhere he had to go, which left him troubled. He couldn’t imagine himself anywhere in the world, as if the cold rain had washed away his ability to daydream. When the siblings let him out, all he would do was wait for the next ride. And then the next.
“We’ve been anywhere.” This time Marley’s fingers, which felt like icicles, moved to Saul’s matted hair. “And everywhere in between.”
Saul stiffened. When you’re gay, you always wonder about every guy you see. What if Marley was too? But when you’re right, it’s still a surprise. It had been too long since another guy had even touched him. While being trapped in a bunkhouse filled with teen rough trade might seem like a wet dream come true, actually no one had the energy after the first few days to do more than brag about past lays. And by the third week — a week of digging holes six feet deep — everyone looked and smelled so scroungy and raw that the thought of even approaching a horny straight boy was too damn hazardous.
“Relax. We want to like you,” Dutch said. She ran one finger along the front of her teeth, as if checking to make sure they were clean. Saul noticed she didn’t wear any fingernail polish or rings, something he’d expect for a rich girl. She needed only her smile.
As Saul scratched at his arm, Marley’s cold touch slipped under his collar. “Are you one of those shy boys?”
Saul didn’t think “shy” was the right word for how he felt. Maybe curious or anxious. When a total stranger started stroking the side of your neck, how were you supposed to act?
His right arm more than itched. It felt as if ants had crawled under the skin. Angry ants that tore at the nerves with their mandibles. He tried pushing up the sleeve of the coat, but it wasn’t enough. The arm burned as if soaked in acid. He began stripping off the coat and ripping at his sleeve.