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“Shh…don’t cry, Baby June. You’re okay. I got you,” I hush her, rocking her in my arms. Blood stains her favorite pink blanket, and my eyes pop in horror. “Oh, no…”
There’s so much blood.
The gash on my palm looks deep and angry, and I can’t stop the rush of red from seeping out. June must sense my unease because she wails even louder, her arms extended and tremoring.
I have to be brave. June needs me. My house needs me.
Placing June on the fresh new layer of carpeting lining the floors, I unwrap the blanket coiled around her and use it as a bandage for my hand. Dad used to watch shows with lots of blood, and the people did this sometimes. They would wrap their wounds in towels or cloth.
Satisfied with this remedy, I bend over June and stroke her silky curls with my uninjured hand. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
She calms a bit, her lips quivering as her cries quiet to soft whimpers. I wonder if she’s scared… I sure hope not. I promised I’d always protect her, but how could I protect her if I’m here and she’s in a different house?
I had to take her. I just had to.
When I’m confident June is happy again, entranced by the carpet fibers tickling her fingers, I trudge up the staircase to my old bedroom in search of Bubbles. I’d take June with me, but I don’t think I can carry her all the way up the stairs. My arms are too tired. Instead, I’ll just have to bring down some blankets and pillows for us, as well as Bubbles and my favorite night-light to keep the shadows away.
I make my way up the steps and around the hall, my heartbeats slamming loud and hard against my ribs. A giddiness possesses me, carrying my legs the rest of the way, eager to see my old room for the first time since The Bad Night.
Only…the excitement is snuffed out the moment I reach the threshold.
My breath catches.
Tears coat my eyes.
It’s gone.
My room is gone. It’s nothing but an empty shell.
The walls are stark white. The bright-blue color that reminded me of a summer sky has been painted over. My furniture is missing. The posters have been torn down, leaving behind no evidence that they were ever there at all. Even my bed is gone.
Bubbles has vanished without a trace.
Bubbles, where are you?
I collapse to my knees, sucker punched with grief. Everything is gone. Wyatt and his friends were right. I’m just an orphan, a loser. I’ve lost everything.
June’s little cries cut through my tears, and I remember that she needs me.
I haven’t lost everything… I still have June.
Making my way back down the stairs, sniffling, I run the back of my wrist across my face, erasing the rest of my sadness. “I’m sorry, June,” I whisper raggedly, lowering myself beside her on the carpet. My hand throbs with pain, but I force it away. “I didn’t mean to leave you so long.”
She makes a ga-ga sound when I tuck my arm around her middle and pull her close. We lie there together on the floor of the living room, in the exact same spot I found my parents. Another tear sneaks its way down my cheek, and I glance up at the ceiling, just like Mom did whenever she said her prayers at night. “I’m here now,” I say out loud. “I’m home.”
I wonder if Mom and Dad are flying high over the rainbow, waiting for me. Maybe they couldn’t find me because I wasn’t here. They didn’t know where to look.
I’m here now, my mind echoes, over and over again.
Maybe they will finally come back for me.
Maybe they’ll fly home.
My parents never found me, of course, but somebody’s parents did.
Gary Keebler’s parents, to be exact.
They lived next door and were awoken by a suspicious sound that night. It had been me, chucking a rock through the window like a miniature Butch Cassidy in the making.
