Chapter Twenty-three

When we left Lee’s house a couple of minutes later, Slim led the way. We hurried after her, but she managed to keep ahead of us until we reached the corner.

There, she turned around, faced us, and set her grocery bag down on the sidewalk. “Can one of you give me a shirt?”

We must’ve looked perplexed.

“Come on, come on.” She snapped her fingers. “Dwight, let me have yours.”

“It’s actually Rusty’s.”

“She can have it,” Rusty said.

I took it off and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Rusty said.

As she slipped into the shirt, she said, “I don’t mind much if you guys see me like that, but…” She shook her head. “Not everyone else in town.” She started fastening the buttons. “Lee wouldn’t let me put my own stuff back on after I showered. I wanted to at least put my swimsuit back on, but she said it’s too dirty. Which it is. I’m probably better off not wearing it.” Slim finished with the buttons. “All set.”

“Almost,” I said. “What happened to telling Lee about the dog?”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to screw things up for you guys.”

“All right!” Rusty blurted.

“I mean, it’s pretty clear you’ve both got the hots to see Valeria in action.”

“You betcha.”

“I’m not so sure I do,” I told her.

“Well, it’s up to you. I just didn’t want to be the one to ruin it. I’m still not going. But let’s hang out at my place anyway, okay? Then when it’s time to go you can just head over to Lee’s without me. If you feel like it.”

“She’ll wonder why you didn’t come,” I said.

“Tell her I got a headache or something.”

“The trots,” Rusty suggested.

She scowled at him. “Not the trots, a headache.”

“You got your period!”

Slim and I both blushed furiously.

“No,” she said.

“Why not say it’s your period?”

“Forget it.”

“Can’t go to vampire shows when you’ve got your period, you know. All that blood? Drive’s ’em crazy and they come after you.”

“Jeez. ” I muttered.

“It’s the truth, man. It’d be like going into bear country or swimming in shark-infested waters.”

Glaring at him, Slim said, “Get bent.”

Rusty started to laugh.

Slim reached toward his face. Very quickly, she tucked down her middle finger, hooked it in place with the pad of her thumb, built up some force in her finger and let it go. It flicked upward, nail thumping Rusty’s nose.

His eyes bulged. His face went red. His laughter stopped. Staggering backward, he cupped a hand over his nose.

“No more talk like that,” she told him.

“Shit,” he gasped.

“You never know when to quit,” she said.

He blinked at her, his eyes red and watery.

I didn’t feel sorry for him. And I was glad Slim had hurt him. Now, both of us had brought tears to Rusty’s eyes.

He sniffled a few times. Then he muttered, “Now you’ve done it,” and lowered his hand.

Bright red blood was running out of his nostrils and spilling over his upper lip.

“Oh, great,” Slim muttered.

Rusty sniffed and licked the blood. “Happy?” He tipped back his head.

“You’d better lie down,” I told him.

He stepped off the sidewalk and stretched out flat on someone’s front yard.

“You’ll be all right in a minute,” I said.

Slim squatted down beside him. Patting him on the chest, she said, “Too bad, sport. You can’t go to a vampire show with a bloody nose. Drives ’em crazy. They’ll come right after you and suck you dry.”

“Screw you,” he said.

Calmly, Slim reached toward his face, tucked down her middle finger and gave his nose another hard flick.

“OW! DAMN IT!”

“Be nice, Rusty, and these things won’t befall you.”

“Go to hell,” he muttered.

Chuckling, Slim stood up. She said to me, “Poor Rusty, everybody’s beating up on him.”

“He likes it,” I said. “He must.”

“I do not,” he said from the ground.

“Anyway,” Slim said, “where’re we going now?”

“My place?” I suggested. “We can hang out there till supper time. You’re going to eat with us, aren’t you? Dad’s grilling burgers.”

“Sure. But why don’t I meet you there? I want to run home and change clothes.”

She saw the look on my face.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you have to?”

She stared down at herself, holding her arms away from her sides, bending her knees, grimacing as if she’d just gotten up from a face-first fall into a mud puddle.

“You look fine,” I said. She looked great, but I didn’t want to push it.

“Yeah, well, I like to wear my own stuff. Anyway, it’ll only take a few minutes.” She started to turn away.

“No, wait,” I said.

. She faced me.

“Why don’t you not go?”

She raised her eyebrows, put her head forward and spoke slowly as if talking to a goon. “I want my own clothes?” She lifted her voice at the end so it sounded like a question. “I want clothes that fit? And shorts that aren’t red? And something to wear under them?”

“Okay,” I said.

But I must’ve looked pained, because her mocking attitude changed to concern. “What is it?”

I shrugged.

Someone was sure to discover the mess in her mother’s bedroom, anyway, sooner or later. This might be a good time for Slim to find it. She would have no reason to suspect Rusty and me, especially if she went by herself so she couldn’t see the looks on our faces or hear us say something stupid.

I should’ve told her, “Nothing’s wrong. Go on ahead.”

But I didn’t want her to leave.

Before I could think of what to say, Rusty spoke up. “He’s scared you’ll get lost.”

Slim met my eyes.

My eyes must’ve looked astonished, because I could hardly believe that Rusty had come up with an explanation that was so close to the truth.

Especially since I hadn’t realized it, myself, until the words came out of him.

“I just think we oughta stick together,” I said. “It’s been a weird day, you know? We didn’t know where you were, and… I don’t want you to get lost again.”

“I was never lost.”

“But we didn’t know where you were. We were afraid maybe they’d gotten their hands on you….”

“And shoved a spear up your ass.”

Just when I was starting to appreciate Rusty again, he had to say that.

Slim smirked down at him. “You didn’t know about the spears then, moron.”

“We assumed them.”

Slim and I laughed. But then we looked at each other and I said, “Anyway, I’ve spent most of the day worrying about you, and we finally found you and now you want to go off by yourself.”

“Just for a few minutes….”

“What if they are after you?” I asked. “Somebody might’ve seen you run away….”

“Even if they did, they don’t know where I live.”

“They might.”

“They have ways,” Rusty said from the ground.

“Bull.”

“Magic ways.”

“Yeah, right.”

Rusty sniffed a couple of times, then took his hand away from his face. All around his mouth, he was smeared with blood. He looked as if he’d been eating someone raw. Smiling, he said, “Maybe they put the dog on your scent.”

“It’s dead.”

“They put its ghost on you.”

Slim looked uneasy for a moment. Then she smiled and said, “Good one.”

“Maybe you should be the writer,” I told him.

“Slim can write ’em. I’ll be the idea man.”

“Anyway,” Slim said, “they can’t possibly know where I live.”

“What if they’re watching us right now,” I asked, “and they follow you home?”

She almost smirked, but not quite. Instead, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder.

“Maybe they’re already at your house,” Rusty added, kidding around.

“Yeah, right.”

“Anything’s possible,” he said.

“Anything is not possible.”

“What if they’re waiting for you?”

I looked down at Rusty, impressed and a little annoyed. He’d just given a whole new meaning to the mess Slim would find in her mother’s room. Now, instead of wondering about the mystery of it, she might figure the gang from Janks Field had paid a visit to her house.

“I’ll take my chances,” she told Rusty. “See you guys later.” Again, she turned away.

Again, I said, “No, wait.” Then I looked down at Rusty. “Get up. If she’s going, we’re going with her.” To Slim, I said, “Is that okay?”

“Okay by me.”

“How’s the nose?” I asked Rusty.

“Hurts.”

“Is it still bleeding?”

He sniffed a couple of times. “I donno. Maybe not.”

“Come on. We’re going with Slim.”

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