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"You can hold on by putting your arms around
me," he said and kicked the engine on. It sputtered. He turned back, smiling. "Look at that, you're making
it stutter."
"Very funny."
We started away.
"How do you know where I live?" I asked as he
headed out of the city.
"You're with your aunt and uncle, right?" "Yes."
"Everyone knows that house. It's one of a kind
around here."
Although we weren't going fast, the breeze
slapped at my face enough for me to rest the left side
of my head against his back. We were silent, moving
through the darkness with just the rather dim
illumination of the scooter's weak front light clearing
away the night. There was no moonlight, and a mostly
cloudy sky hid whatever starlight the celestial ceiling
was willing to offer.
We didn't speak until we reached my aunt's
home and he pulled into the driveway and stopped. I got off. He remained seated, the engine
running. "I did my end of the bargain," I said. "Where
are your poems?"
"You really want to read them?" he asked, his
voice full of skepticism.
"That was the deal. Well?"
He shut off the engine and reached into his
jacket to pull out the notebook.
"You might as well come inside," I said. "I can't
read them in the dark."
He looked at the house as if something about it
