“Do you want this one?” he asked when he was done.
“Yeah,” I said. I’d take all of it. I would take anything.
And we sat there in his room, the house humming. I knew I needed to leave soon, to get back to my life, to let him stay inside of his own. But it was hard to leave.
And it was like Zeke knew that I was having trouble figuring out how to do this, to walk away.
“Maybe I’ll see you again?” he asked. “Maybe later? After all this happens?”
“If you want to,” I offered.
“Let me see how I feel once it comes out. I’ll need to figure it out. Watch myself.”
“Sure, of course,” I replied. I didn’t think it would happen, and that was okay, honestly. I would not ask for more.
And then Zeke said it, the line. He remembered it. He hadn’t forgotten. How could he? And then we said it together.
“Goodbye, Zeke,” I finally said.
“Goodbye, Frankie,” he said.
He walked me to the porch, and I said goodbye to his parents.
I took the posters, and I went back to my car. I didn’t look back at him. I pulled out of the driveway. I could not remember when I had last slept. Everything was a dream. I would never sleep again, maybe. I drove back to my home, back to a place that was familiar to me. I hoped so badly that it would be familiar to me. I needed it. And the miles ticked off, my car taking me there, and I promised myself that it would be a good place. I would make it. I’d keep making it. I said the line to myself, and it sounded so right. I had made that. I loved it.
Seventeen
WHEN I GOT HOME, JUNIE RAN OUTSIDE TO MEET ME. SHE hugged me and I smelled her, the unmistakable scent of my daughter, and I held on to her. Aaron was in the doorway. He smiled, but it was that kind of smile where you’re showing just enough teeth that you’re like, I might grind my teeth to dust if you’ve ruined our lives, and I gave him the kind of smile that says, I have everything under control, you dope. I absolutely did not. But it’s such a nice smile, and he accepted it so easily.
I knew that I’d now have to talk to Mazzy Brower, and I’d have to let her really examine the poster. And I’d have to drive back to Coalfield and I would take her to all those places on the map, which I still had, and we would see how many of them were still around. And I’d tell her a version of the story that would become the truth, and I would still get to keep the real thing, what I’d made that summer, a secret. I was keeping it for me and Zeke, but really it was for me. It was just for me.
But here was Junie in my arms, so lovely, wriggling and weird and already wanting to tell me about that doll, the demon doll that spit fire that she had to have because she had seen a picture of it in some old children’s book that she had discovered at the library. And I let her tell me. I would buy her that doll. I hoped it was as hideous as I had imagined in my mind. I hoped that Junie kept it for her entire life. Aaron hugged me as we walked up to the porch. “It’s okay?” he asked, and he trusted me. I know that he trusted me.
And even though the story I told Mazzy wouldn’t include it, I would tell him about Zeke, about that whole summer. I’d tell him what it felt like to be alone in that little place, things I wouldn’t be able to say in the article, things no one would really care about. How I never knew how I’d get to the place where I was okay. I’d tell him about that weird boy, and how I was going to hide him away, and I hoped Aaron would understand.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “Really. It is. I’m okay.”
We went into the house, the three of us, and we left the front door wide open, completely unprotected, because nothing would hurt us. Forever and forever and forever.
THAT NIGHT, PUTTING JUNIE TO SLEEP, I LAY BESIDE HER AND WE read from a chapter book about a pack of wolves chasing these two girls on a train. And after, when I’d turned off the light, Junie said, “Where have you been?”
“To see Nana,” I told her. “Remember?”
“But why?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
“When I was a girl—”
“My age? My age right now?” Junie interrupted.
“Older. When I was a teenager, I made this thing. And it was a secret. And people really were wild about it, and they got crazy over it.”
“Why was it a secret?” she asked. “Was it bad?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
“But you kept it a secret?” she asked.