The rain slowed, giving way to a heavy mist that hung in the oaks. Puddles formed along the walkway leading up to the McCarthy house. L aimlessly stuck the toes of her shoes into the puddles, watching the ripples. She thought about wandering back inside just to get her book, but then she thought about her mother, likely sitting upstairs, looking into the crib and searching.

L didn’t know what she thought she would see when she did the same thing. It wasn’t the usual emptiness. And she couldn’t help wondering why her mother had come home and stayed upstairs when she could have been at the hospital with the baby.

L kicked at the ferns planted under the front window. In the brush choking the backyard and lacing around the fences, a few frogs chirped. She knew the answer.

A sudden rush of footsteps, growing louder and louder, broke through her thoughts. L edged down the front yard and then leaned around, looking down into where the curved yards connected by fences. The neighbor’s hydrangea bush shuddered as a form broke through them, then leaped up and over the chain link fence. L ducked back to the front step just as R panted across the yard and wearily climbed the last fence before reaching the road.

R glanced around, blinking the rain out of his eyes. His sore lungs took in deep gulps of the chill air. R felt a stillness as he examined the road, the receding mist. Brushing drops of rain off his forehead, R tossed a gaze behind him and then started.

“Uh, I—I was just….” R stuttered, getting ready to bolt again, but the girl sitting on the front porch only stared back with no interest in her eyes. She shrugged.

R sighed, realizing the last of his strength had gone out of his legs. He shifted, unsure what to do.

“What are you doing?” L couldn’t help asking.

“What?”

“You just busted out of those bushes over there,” L shrugged again. R bit his lip.

“I—I was—”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I was just asking.” L stood up. She glanced back at the front door as if it would magically open for her, then meandered off the walk. She dug her heel into the dirt.

“You live here?” asked R.

L gave him a look, “Duh.”

“Oh. It’s just that—it’s been raining and stuff, and—”

“I’m waiting for someone to come pick me up. She should be here soon. You live here?”

“Uh, no, I was just—”

“Whatever….” L glanced back up at the upstairs window high above her. Sighing, she turned around and settled into the step, her arms around her knees.

“Why don’t you wait for her inside?” R couldn’t help asking. He crossed his arms. After all the time he spent in the rain, it finally started settling into his bones, chilling him. R tried to keep from shivering, but L only bit her lip and studied the sidewalk. “Look, kid,” she blurted, sitting up, “I’m leaving soon—like I told you—so why don’t you just, I don’t know, go back to your house or something instead of just standing there looking dumb?”

“I ain’t going back there!” R snapped. He narrowed his eyes but fought a jumpy feeling creeping up into his stomach. He realized it was his first time saying it out loud, but now that he had, he didn’t know what to do. R couldn’t even tell if Spike was looking for him, or if the policeman had gotten suspicious and followed him, or if that lady in the car was scoping the streets to catch him. If Spike wanted to look for him, he could. He didn’t want to take the chance of going somewhere familiar. Just then, L interrupted his train of thought, asking the questions he dreaded answering.

“Sheesh, fine, where did you come from then? Where are you going?”

“None of your business!”

“Fine! I don’t care anyway!” L hissed as loud as she could under her breath.

“Then why’d you—!”

“Shh!” L jumped up, waving her hands, “OK, OK, kid, I didn’t mean it. It’s fine… I’m sorry.”

R followed L’s gaze to the upstairs window. He wondered why she sat outside, in the drizzling rain, if someone was already home. It reminded him of the times he sat outside, in the hallway to the apartment, or just outside the buildings as each of the windows leered down at him.

“Is, uh…” R shuffled his feet again, “Are you, like, alone? Why don’t you sit inside?”

L stared back at R, thinking about how to answer. She thought of how quiet the house had gone when her mother and the baby left, how loud it had gotten when her mother came back, alone. She thought about why her mother hadn’t stayed at the hospital for longer, until the baby got better. Then she glanced at the driveway, remembering where her dad’s car used to sit and how it hadn’t sat there in a long time.

“My mom’s home,” she finally confessed, “She said she wanted to be alone, though. That’s why—”

Another rumble of thunder rolled over the sky. R looked up to see a thick, sprawling cumulonimbus drifting up over the trees, shades of deep blue and lavender swirled together. A moment later, large raindrops shot down, thumping against the roof and beating down the ferns. R covered his head. L pulled herself back and then stood up.

“Come on!”

R rushed toward the front porch, the cold drops dripping down the back of his neck. R sneezed just as he reached the porch and tripped over L’s bag. L reached out a hand to steady him without thinking.

“Must be just the one cloud….” R shook the rain off his head and then stuffed his hands into his pockets to warm them.

“So… where are you going, anyway?” L couldn’t help asking, raising her voice slightly above the rain.

R didn’t answer.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know….” R’s voice cracked.

L sighed, stealing a glimpse at the tiny body standing next to her and shaking. A pang of guilt grew in her chest. “OK, look,” L reached for the doorknob, “Stay quiet. You can stand inside for a sec. Maybe when my ride gets here we can figure something out. Just keep quiet.”

R nodded, following L inside as the doorknob clicked and the rubber edge of the door squeaked across the checkered tile.

***

R sat on the bar stool, trying to keep as quiet as possible unless L shushed him or even put him back out in the rain. He didn’t doubt she would. L sat on the countertop by the fridge, keeping an eye upstairs. She gripped her copy of The Odyssey and waited for the rain to pass.

“Is… Is your mom OK?” R whispered as quietly as possible. He fought back the question at first, until it flew out of him, just to get rid of the uncomfortable quiet.

“No,” L’s response thudded.

“I—I can go back out—”

“It’s fine,” snapped L, “Just don’t ask questions.”

“Lucy?”

L jumped off the counter and stared wide-eyed at the figure at the top of the stairs. L’s mother examined her as if she didn’t expect her to be there. “Were you going somewhere? I don’t remember….”

“Miss Stevenson is on her way. I was waiting outside so I wouldn’t bother you, but it started raining, and—”

“Who is that?” L’s mother pointed at R. She seemed more confused than upset, R noted, but he still leaped off the stool, ready to run out the door.

“Uh….” L realized she had never asked for R’s name. R answered, “Roland, ma’am. I was just waiting outside, and Lucy invited me in because it was raining, that’s all! Please don’t be mad….”

“I see. That’s fine. Lock the door when you leave, Lucy. I’m going to stay with the baby.” L’s mother paced back down the hall, shutting the door behind her with a tentative air.

“I didn’t know you—” R shut his mouth when he saw the look on L’s face.

A car motor roared into the street, rumbling down to the house. R’s eyes widened when he glanced through the front door window and examined the car, but at this point, as the car coasted into the driveway, he couldn’t race out if he didn’t want to get caught. He froze at the counter, waiting for what would happen to him next.

Miss Stevenson jumped out, her hair and shoulders damp, her keys gripped in one hand as the motor puttered out. She dashed up the driveway and to the front door.  

Erin slammed the door shut behind her. “Lucy, I am so sorry I’m late. I was—” She froze. R looked down, his stomach turning.

Erin shook herself, surprised. “Oh, it’s you!” were the first words out of her mouth, “I am so sorry about earlier. Are you all right? I didn’t know you were friends with Lucy.”

“This is, uh, Roland,” said L just as R answered, “I’m fine.”

“We just—”

“I was only staying until the rain stopped. I can go now.” R headed for the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Erin stopped him by standing in front of the door. She leaned down, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, “Where are you from, kid? Look, forget about what happened earlier. I can help you get to where you need to be, all right? If you’re in trouble—”

“Who’s that?” L’s mother had come back out, her hands gripping the stair railing, “Is that you, Erin?”

L bit her lip. She couldn’t figure out what her mother meant, where her mind seemed to be now, where it wandered. She felt the inexplicable urge to get angry for reasons she couldn’t explain. Maybe it was impatience or even embarrassment. But L knew that even if she tried to fight and shove her anger down, it would only resurface, and the scowl would return. For one moment, seeing her mother on the stairs, L felt that anger spill over.

Erin took one look at L’s reddened face before realizing the decision in front of her, an easy one if she had the nerve. She gazed at the tattoo on her wrist and thought she could understand. She could at least try, try to say the right thing.

“Why don’t we go upstairs for a minute?” asked Erin, addressing L’s mother. She sidestepped R, tiptoeing up the stairs, her heart pounding.

“You can go if you want. I don’t care,” snapped L as Miss Stevenson and her mother disappeared into the dark.

R reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for letting me stay…. You didn’t have to, ya know.”

L didn’t answer. She pulled herself back onto the counter and opened her book, but R could tell that she didn’t notice the words. R felt the chill brass warm under his hand. He thought of doing what he had wanted to do ever since Erin’s Stevenson car rolled into the driveway, but something sharp and fiery held him back. Letting go of the handle, he stepped back into the kitchen.

“It’ll be OK, ya know?”

L fought to keep the tears from falling, “You don’t know.”

“It might. It can always get better later on. I mean—”

“You don’t understand,” L bit back, her eyes blazing as she slammed The Odyssey shut, “You don’t know what it’s like!”

R set his jaw, feeling the pity drain from him. He marched back to the door. “You’re right,” he scowled opening the door, “Maybe I don’t.”