Run Away Baby

“I told you, I don’t know where it came from.”

“Could you give it to me so I can get this fire going?” said Charlie, holding out his hand.

She passed it to him and plunked back down into her lawn chair, pouting.

It was twilight now. Abby closed her eyes. Hopefully Randall had already moved through the steps of irritation, concern, suspicion, and anger, to fear. Had the police been contacted yet? What if he was out for dinner with Ernie Blankenship and hadn’t even done anything yet?

“There we go! Fire!” Charlie exclaimed when one of the logs finally started burning.

“Just in time to keep the bugs away,” said Rake.

“Not exactly. I’m getting all bit up,” said Meggie.

“Quit complaining. They’re not even that bad tonight.”

“I’m not complaining,” she said, opening her last beer of the six-pack.

The four of them sat there in silence, watching the fire.

“It’s getting breezy. I’m cold,” said Meggie, scooting a little closer to the flames.

“Has anyone seen my iPod?” Abby asked.

“I pod. You pod. Is that like a pea pod?” said Rake. He laughed.

“Nooo. It’s like an iPod. It was in the big shed. In the room with the bunks. But it’s gone now.”

“I borrowed it. Don’t worry about it,” said Charlie.

“Okay,” Abby said. She didn’t believe him. It felt like he was covering for his cousin.

“I’m getting sleepy,” said Meggie. “This kind of beer always knocks me out.”

Rake reached into the cooler and took out a beer for himself and another for Charlie. They’d brought the cooler down to the fire pit and added a bag of ice from their trip into town. They were just getting started drinking.

“Charlie, will you come with me back to the shed? I’m getting cold. I need your sweatshirt,” Abby said.

He sighed and got up. They began walking up the grassy slope in silence. When they were far enough away from Rake and Meggie, Abby said, “I can’t believe I forgot to ask you, but did you ever get me a passport or driver’s license, or whatever it was you thought you could get for me?”

“Sorry. I couldn’t come up with anything.”

“It’s okay,” she said. She’d known that would be his answer. She’d wanted him to say it aloud.

“Do you want me to go inside and get it? It’s going to be really dark in there.”

“I guess. Thanks.” She poured most of her wine in the grass while he was inside.

He came back a minute later with the sweatshirt and handed it to her. “I shook it out for you. It’s okay.”

“Thanks.” She put it on.

“Abby…”

“Yeah?”

“I’d like to say… I’m sorry. For how this is going.”

“I feel the same way,” she said.