“So wait in the car.”
“Nobody’s going to wait in the car,” Slim said.
“My feet are getting all scratched.”
“Tough toenails,” Rusty said, and chuckled.
“Ha ha. That’s so funny I forgot to ...”
“Let’s hold up here a second,” I said. We halted, and I pulled off one of my shoes. As I peeled the sock off, I said, “You can wear my socks, Bitsy.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised and pleased.
“Sure.” I handed her the sock I’d already removed. Still balancing on one leg, I put my sneaker back on. Then I shifted legs and took off the other shoe and sock. I gave the second sock to her.
“Thank you very much,” she said.
As I put my shoe on again, Bitsy sat on the ground. She brought her knees up and spread them wide apart like a little kid. But she wasn’t a little kid and she was wearing a dress.
There must’ve been a break in the clouds. Some moonlight made its way into the forest and she’d found a patch of it.
Almost as if she wanted me to watch.
I looked away and glimpsed Rusty staring down at her. He didn’t say anything, just watched.
Being her brother, maybe he was used to seeing that sort of thing. I didn’t have a sister, so I wouldn’t know. But it seemed funny that he would stare like that.
It made me wonder about Rusty.
About Bitsy, too, for that matter. She had to know her brother was watching, but it didn’t seem to faze her.
Bitsy was turning out to be more strange than I had ever imagined.
Slim, keeping watch as if afraid someone might sneak up on us, didn’t seem to notice Bitsy’s secret show—or audience.
After putting my socks on, Bitsy struggled into her sandals and stood up. She brushed off the seat of her dress. “Thanks,” she said again.
“You’re welcome.”
“Ready?” Slim asked.
“Yeah,” Bitsy said.
So we started off again, Slim in the lead, Rusty next. Instead of moving out behind her brother, Bitsy came over to my side and took my hand. “I wanta stay by you,” she said.
“Sure.”
She kept hold of my hand. Side by side, we made our way through the dark woods.
“The socks sure help,” she said.
“Good.”
“They’re kinda sweaty, but I don’t mind. I kinda like it.”
“Ah,” I said.
“Car!” Slim warned.
Off to the right and ahead of us through the trees, pale beams lit the night. A car was coming our way on Route 3. Slim stepped behind a tree trunk. Rusty crouched behind a bush. Pulling Bitsy by the hand, I gasped, “Come on,” and rushed over to a waist-high boulder. We ducked behind it, Bitsy clutching my hand and gasping for breath.
Huddled together, we heard the car come closer. It sounded like a strong wind rushing through the trees. I felt one of Bitsy’s breasts pushing against the side of my arm. It moved slightly, rubbing me, as if she wanted to make sure I noticed. I noticed, all right. And it made me wish I was somewhere else: hiding behind the tree with Slim, for instance.
Soon, but not nearly soon enough, the sound of the car faded like a sigh. We stood up. Slim waved when she saw us. Rusty shook his head. I tried to break contact with Bitsy. Though I got free of her breast, she kept her grip on my hand.
Slim and Rusty waited for us. When we were all together, Slim took the lead again. Rusty trudged after her. Bitsy squeezed my hand and looked up at me. We weren’t in moonlight, so I couldn’t see the look on her face. Just as well.
A couple of minutes later, we came to the dirt road.
Slim waited until we were all there. Then she said in a quiet voice, “Let’s just stay on this and stick together. A lot easier than traipsing through the woods.”
“What if a car comes?” Bitsy asked.
“We’ll duck out of sight same as last time,” Slim said.
Clustered together, we began walking up the dirt road toward Janks Field.
