hiding

The lady across the street was our mom's best friend - little brother's godmother. She introduced my dad to Lynn, and felt guilty about it ever since. Her house was our refuge - when we were scared, or outnumbered, or needed to be with someone who remembered that we used to be normal, we went to Chris.

But one day, she came to us. In the middle of the afternoon, she knocked on the door. Nobody was home but the kids. She came into the house and said she needed me to come over.
"For what?"
"I need some help with something."
I am nine years old - I'm pretty sure that whatever it is, I am much less capable than the 15 year-old who answered the door. But she insists she needs me. And my little brother too.
This is kind of weird, but our whole life has been weird the past two years, and we're no strangers to talking in code. We agree to go with her, after we grab our books & stuff.
"No time," she says, "NOW."
So we leave. No goodbyes. No teddy bears. No anything.

We are not at her house for ten minutes when the doorbell rings. Chris tells us to stay in the other room, and to be very quiet.

Lynn is at the door. She wants to know if we are here. Chris tells her no. Lynn says that she knows we are. Chris says, "They were here, but they're gone now."

Lynn goes back across the street, gets into the station wagon and drives away. Chris tells us to hurry. We are half running, half hiding as we get into her suburban. She drives us to Patty's - my mom's other best friend. Eventually Lynn will show up there too, and Patty will tell her that we are gone. Patty will take us to Jackie, who delivers us to daddy who takes us to great Aunt Mildred's

It's like the underground railroad, but I have no idea why we are running.