Towering - By Alex Flinn Page 0,28

stirred, but she didn’t sit upright and accuse me of stealing from her. That was good. I was just being paranoid. I left the tea on her nightstand.

The car didn’t want to start at first, but finally, it turned over. I had at least three hours, maybe more. I decided to go to the store first so I wouldn’t forget and also, because Zach might not be at work early.

There was a grocery store in Gatskill. No one knew me there. Slakkill is so small that, one summer, when Emily and I got jobs bagging groceries, Mr. Gates, the manager, told us to follow anyone who wasn’t from around here. We knew who bought cigarettes without permission, and we knew who bought condoms. Soon, everyone else knew too.

So I went to the grocery store and bought milk and bread and something else.

Then, I went to the Red Fox Inn.

It was a seedy-looking place with dirty windows and a parking lot that was either dirt with patches of grass or grass with patches of dirt. Even though it was only four, there were already cars outside, and I guessed they’d probably been there a while. The rusty doorknob stuck when I tugged it, but finally, it gave way. I was in a dark room that smelled of old beer. My shoes stuck to the floor. I made my way to the bar.

“Hey, girlie.” The bartender smiled, showing an incomplete set of teeth. “Aren’t you a little young to be in here?”

“I’m seventeen.”

“Drinking age is twenty-one. But I’ll play along. What can I get you?”

“Nothing.” My eyes were barely adjusted to the darkness, and I squinted at him. “I’m looking for Zach. A guy named Zach who works here?” As I said it, I felt a sudden uncertainty. What if he didn’t work here after all?

But he said, “I know who Zach is. You and me both are looking for him.”

“What do you mean?” But I knew. He was gone.

“He’s gone,” the guy echoed. “Disappeared. One day, he said he’d done what he came here to do. The next night, he didn’t show up at work. I wouldn’t have minded so much, but he was bringing the ladies in. Girls like you, they came to stare at him, and the men came to stare at them.”

I barely heard this because my blood was pounding, pulsing in my ears like the feedback of an electric guitar. Once, when I was little, my mother took me to the beach, Fire Island, way far away from here. I remember being surprised at how the ocean attacked me, so unlike the peaceful lakes I knew. I just stood there, and it took me down to the sandy floor, so rough against my cheek. That was how I felt, and through it, I could hear the bartender’s words: “He said he’d done what he came here to do.”

What he came here to do.

What did that mean?

“So what’s your name, little girl?” the old man said.

“Me, um, Danielle. If Zach comes back, can you tell him to call me? Or find me? It’s really important.”

The old man didn’t answer for a moment. I looked up at him and saw that his eyes had taken on a sort of fixed look, a little scary. Then, they latched onto me. “Danielle? Wouldn’t be Danielle Greenwood, would it?” He reached out his hand toward me. It was old and gnarled.

I backed away. “I have to go.” How did he know my name? Maybe from Zach?

He took a step closer, his hand brushing my wrist, almost grasping it. “Wait! I may see him. I’ll give him a message.”

I pulled my hand away. “No! That’s okay!”

And I ran.

I am still trying to understand as I sit here, writing in my journal, waiting. But I don’t need to wait. I know what I’ll find out.

And I know he is gone.

13

Rachel

Is it a dream if you’re not even sure you’re asleep?

Lately, I’ve been having these dreams, strange dreams. Or maybe, they’re fantasies. In my dreams, there is a man. He comes to my window because the door is locked, and he says, “I’m going to steal you away.”

But even in my dreams, I know I cannot go with him. At first, I thought it was because of Mama, because she would be alone and miss me. But one day, I realized that wasn’t the reason at all. In fact, I am meant to leave Mama. But first, there was something else I had to do,