Lies (Gone 3)

ns and cans and bottles. That was all supposed to go in recycling. It sure wasn’t supposed to be on the sidewalk. His daddy would go crazy if he ever saw that.

Here’s what Daddy would say: Excuse ME? Can someone KINDLY explain how GARBAGE is on the SIDEwalk? In what universe is THAT okay?

That’s how Daddy talked when he got mad.

Justin walked around the trash and almost tripped over his old tricycle. He’d left it there on the front walk a long time ago. He hadn’t even put it away like he should.

Up the stairs to the door. His door. It didn’t feel like his door, really.

He pushed the lever on the heavy brass doorknob. It was stiff. He almost couldn’t do it. But then it clicked and the door opened.

He pushed it and went inside quickly, feeling guilty, like he was doing something he shouldn’t be.

The hallway was dark, but he was used to that. Everything was dark all the time now. If you wanted light, you had to go out and play in the plaza. Which was where he was supposed to be. Mother Mary would be wondering where he was.

He went into the kitchen. Usually Daddy would be in the kitchen; he was the one who mostly did the cooking. Mommy did the cleaning and laundry, and Daddy did the cooking. Fried chicken. Chili. Casserole. Beef Burgundy, but they called it Beef Burpundy after one time when Justin was eating some and burped really loud.

The memory made him smile and be sad at the same time.

No one was in the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open. Nothing was inside except an orange box with some white powder inside. He tasted some and spit it out. It tasted like salt or something.

He went upstairs. He wanted to make sure his room was still there. His footsteps sounded really loud on the stairs and it made him creep slowly, like he was sneaking.

His room was on the right. Mommy and Daddy’s room was on the left. But Justin didn’t go in either direction, because he noticed right then that he wasn’t the only person in the house. There was a big kid in the guest room where Meemaw slept when she came to visit at Christmas.

The big kid was a boy, Justin thought, even though his hair was really long and he was turned away. He was sitting in a chair, reading a book, with his feet up on the bed.

The walls of the room had been covered with drawings and colorings that someone had taped up.

Justin froze in the doorway.

Then he slid backward, turned, and went to his room. The big kid hadn’t seen him.

His room was not the same as it used to be. For one thing, there were no sheets or blankets or anything on his bed. Someone had taken his favorite blanket. The nubby blue one.

“Hey.”

Justin jumped. He spun around, flushed and nervous.

The big kid was looking at him with a kind of puzzled look on his face.

“Hey, little dude, take it easy.”

Justin stared at him. He didn’t seem mean. There were lots of mean big kids, but this one seemed okay.

“You lost?” the big kid asked.

Justin shook his head.

“Oh. I get it. Is this your house?”

Justin nodded.

“Right. Oh. Sorry, little dude, I just needed a place to stay and no one was living here.” The big kid looked around. “It’s a nice house, you know? It has a nice feeling.”

Justin nodded, and for some reason started to cry.

“It’s cool, it’s cool, don’t cry. I can move out. One thing we have plenty of is houses, right?”