“I guess I’m going home,” I said. “But I’m still your friend.”
“I can’t imagine why,” he said. “But it’s obvious I’m not going to change your mind about that.”
I walked down the stairs slowly, wondering if I was ever going to see him again.
When I got down to the long hallway, I saw Connor’s mother in the dim living room. The shades were all drawn, as usual. She was sitting in the chair Connor’s father used to sit in. The last place I’d seen him. Her head was dropped back, just the way his had been. But no ice pack. She just had her eyes closed.
I moved to the living room doorway and leaned there, wondering if I dared speak to her. I thought she didn’t know I was there. So when she spoke up, it startled me.
“What is it, Lucas?”
“I just wanted you to know, ma’am . . . Libby Weller did say some things about Connor that were not very nice. But I never did. I said he was my friend, had been since we were three. And when she kept at it, I told her to stop talking about it. And I’m not going to be seeing her anymore anyway.”
At first, nothing. Maybe she was waiting to see if I was done.
“I appreciate your telling me that,” she said after a time.
“I hope you’ll keep an eye on Connor.”
“Of course I will,” she said. But with not an ounce of life in her words.
I turned to walk away, but she had one more thing to say. She called it down the hall after me.
“I can’t watch him every minute, though.”
It was hard for me to know how she meant that last thought. Was she resigned to the danger of the thing? Already terrified by the guilt she would feel? Or was she just like me: overwhelmed by how helpless we are to change the fate of the people we want to help?
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.
I slipped out the door and ran home.
Once again I woke up well before the sun.
I had an idea, but it was a weird idea. It was powerful, but it was weird. I knew it would change things. Maybe change them in a good way. Maybe make everything worse.
It was either the best or the worst idea I’d ever had.
Trouble was, the more I thought about it, the more I knew there was no way to tell which way it would fall. Not in advance. The only way to know best from worst was to move forward and give it a try.
Now, this next little bit is going to sound like déjà vu, and in a way I suppose it is.
I got up. Slipped out of the house without waking anybody. Without turning on any lights. I walked over to Connor’s house in the dark and bounced pebbles off the window of his front bedroom.
The neighbor’s dog barked at me.
When Connor came to the window and put his hands on the glass, I felt a load of anxiety drain out of me. I wasn’t too late.
I walked around to the backyard and met him coming out the mudroom door.
“This is getting old,” he said. Quietly.
“Come somewhere with me.”
“This time I was sleeping.”
“I’m sorry. Do this for me. Please.”
“I thought we weren’t going to do this anymore. You said you’d stop asking me to go places with you.”
“Just this once. I promise you we won’t see any of the other guys from school where we’re going.”
He sighed, and said nothing. And I knew I had won.
“Go get dressed,” I said.
And he did. Without any questions.
“I just like being home,” he said as we walked down the dark sidewalk together.
He had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. He had his shoulders up around his ears, like that would somehow keep the world away.
We were headed for the woods, but he didn’t know it.
“You can’t always be home,” I said.
“Why can’t I?”
“You have to go back to school in the fall.”
He clammed up then, and stopped talking. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. But it sure didn’t feel like a good sign.
It was barely light when we hit the path I liked to use to get into the woods. The one I figured was the most direct route to the lady’s cabin. It was the very beginning of civil twilight. We could see the trees just well enough that we stood a good chance of not slamming into one.
I took a few careful steps down that uneven footing.
“Why are we going in here?” he asked.
His voice sounded too far away, so I turned around to see why. I saw why, all right. He wasn’t following me anymore. He was still glued to the sidewalk.
“I want to take you someplace.”
“Why?”
“Because I do.”
“That’s not really a reason,” he said.
I sighed and picked my way back to where he stood.
“Look,” I said. “I’m working really hard to be a good friend here. And I normally don’t ask you for much. But I’m asking you to do this one thing, and if it doesn’t work out, I won’t ask you to do anything else ever again.”
Then we just stood there in silence for a moment, unable to see the expressions on each other’s faces. I was wondering why I’d given away the store for this idea, promising him it was the last time I’d ever try to do something to help him. Especially since it could’ve turned out to be the worst idea I’d ever had.
“Whatever,” he said.
And he took a step on the dark and uneven path.
The sun was not yet up when we got to Zoe Dinsmore’s cabin, but it was pretty light.
The dogs came spilling out of their doghouse to greet us.
“Holy crap!” Connor breathed. He grabbed a handful
