Part 2 (1/2)
6.
”Matt?” Julie said, stepping into the darkness of the small room. It was little more than a walk-in closet- just enough room for a cot and a bit of crawls.p.a.ce around that.
At first, Matt didn't stir. Then, after a minute or so, his eyes opened. ”Julie?”
She noticed that his Sony camcorder was pressed against his back, almost as if it were a comforting stuffed toy. ”Right here, Matty.”
”I had a bad dream.”
”Oh. Well, it was just a dream. Everything's fine.”
”No,” Matt said, turning over to face the wall. ”No. It was real.”
”Do you want me to call Dr. Swanson?”
Matt glared at her. ”Eleanor? No. I don't like her.”
”How about...well, Mr. Maitland?”
He lip-farted at this.
”Did you mean to cut yourself?”
He didn't respond. She bit her lower lip. Shouldn't have asked that. He doesn't need to be grilled right now. Shouldn't have asked that. He doesn't need to be grilled right now. She wanted to go lift him up and hug him, but she resisted what Hut would've called her ”smother mother instinct.” She wanted to go lift him up and hug him, but she resisted what Hut would've called her ”smother mother instinct.”
”Matt?” she asked. ”We can go home now. It's all right.”
Still facing the wall, he said, ”She's in a box. I heard her.” Then, his voice seemed to change. It sounded... girlish. Like he was imitating someone. ”Dear G.o.d. Dear G.o.d. Somebody help me. That's what she said. She said it until she couldn't breathe anymore.” That's what she said. She said it until she couldn't breathe anymore.”
7.
When they got out to the Camry, it had begun raining again. Julie drew Matt closer so that he could keep under her raincoat a bit. His body felt too warm.
”I'm sorry,” he whispered, s.h.i.+vering as she unlocked the door to let him into the front seat. He was a funny kid in too many ways-violent at times, in a rage, sweet at other times, and somewhere in between he reminded her of a little kid who was smart beyond his years, yet had learning disabilities that she couldn't figure out. Maybe it was his mother. Maybe it was whatever had driven her to alcohol and then drugs and then...the accident. Maybe whatever brain chemistry was there had gotten a little into Matt. Maybe it was his mother. Maybe it was whatever had driven her to alcohol and then drugs and then...the accident. Maybe whatever brain chemistry was there had gotten a little into Matt.
Julie leaned forward and hugged him, kissing him on the top of the head. ”Nothing to be sorry about, honey. Want to go grab a bite at McDonald's?”
”What about Livy?”
”She's at Laura's. We'll bring her something back. Okay?”
He brightened, slightly. ”Okay.”
8.
After making sure his camera case was secure between his feet on the floor of the car, Matt poked around the bun of his Quarter Pounder. He lifted it up, and picked out the pickle. He dropped it back in the bag.
They were at the McDonald's off the main road through town. She'd parked in front. Her cup of coffee was on the dashboard. She'd leaned the driver's seat back, and took a bite of a Chicken McNugget.
”I know it's crazy,” Matt said, chewing.
”What?” she asked, trying to hide her interest. He swallowed the bit of burger. And then reached for his soda, took a sip, slurping. ”It was like I was in a movie.”
”We can talk about something else if you want.” She glanced through the winds.h.i.+eld. Cars went too fast on the road. Across the street at the strip mall, a little red car was nearly backing up into an SUV that wanted to quickly take a parking s.p.a.ce.
”It's okay,” he said. ”I just was somewhere else. In my head.”
She tried not to glance at his arms, to give him that privacy. The nurse from school had done a messy bandaging and gauzing of his elbow and forearm. She saw what looked like the drawing of a spider, a little too deep in his skin-a faint image, the ink of his ballpoint pen washed away, a lightly raised line of skin.
”Does it hurt?”
He gave a brief peripheral glance to his arm, and shook his head. ”Not much.”
”You were stung by a hornet.”
”Bitten,” he corrected her. ”And I think it was a yellow jacket.”
”Oh. I didn't know there was a difference.” She smiled. ”I'm not too smart about insects.”
”Maybe not,” he said, closing his eyes briefly as if a headache had suddenly come on. When he opened them, seconds later, he got a wicked grin on his face. ”It hurt like h.e.l.l when it bit me.”
She reached forward for her coffee, and lifted the plastic lid up. She mixed in two small cups of creamer, and then a packet of sugar, but couldn't find the plastic stirrer. She took a sip. Better than she had expected.
”What about what you saw? In your mind? Did it frighten you?”
He nodded. She offered him a McNugget, and he glanced at it, then at her, then reached his thumb and forefinger into the little box and plucked it out.
”Not anymore,” he said.
She touched the edge of his arm. Next to the raised skin.
He looked away, jerking his arm. Glanced out the side window. Sparrows and starlings were over by the round tables outside, and an old man tossed French fries to them.