* * *
—
After they left Ronald’s they went to a shelter their mom had always taken them to when they needed help or were between houses. They met with a social worker who asked where they’d been but didn’t push when they didn’t tell her.
Opal carried the weight of Ronald’s possible death around with her for a year. She was scared to go back and check. She was afraid that it didn’t bother her that he was dead. That she killed him. She didn’t want to go and find out if he was still alive. But she didn’t really want to have killed him either. It was easier to let him stay maybe dead. Possibly dead.
A year later Jacquie was gone from Opal’s life. Opal didn’t know where. The last time she’d seen her, Jacquie was getting arrested for what reason Opal couldn’t tell. Losing Jacquie into the system was just another shitty loss among Opal’s many. But she’d met an Indian boy her age, and he made sense to Opal, he wasn’t weird or dark, or he was, but in the same ways Opal was. Plus he never talked about where he came from or what happened to him. They shared that omission like soldiers back from war, all the way up until an afternoon Opal and Lucas were hanging out at the Indian Center, waiting for people to show up for a community meal. Lucas was talking about how much he hated McDonald’s.
“But it tastes so good,” Opal said.
“It’s not real food,” Lucas said as he balanced and walked back and forth on the curb outside.
“It’s real if I can chew it up and see it come out the other side,” Opal said.
“Gross,” Lucas said.
“Wouldn’t have been gross if you’d have said it. Girls aren’t allowed to talk about farts or poop or curse or—”
“I could swallow pennies and poop them out, that doesn’t make them food,” Lucas said.
“Who told you it’s not real?” Opal said.
“I had half a cheeseburger I forgot was in my backpack for like a month. When I found it, it looked and smelled exactly the same as when I left it. Real food spoils,” Lucas said.
“Beef jerky doesn’t spoil,” Opal said.
“Okay, Ronald,” Lucas said.
“What’d you say?” Opal said, and she felt a hot sadness rise up to her eyes from her neck.
“I called you Ronald,” Lucas said, and stopped walking back and forth on the curb’s edge. “As in, Ronald McDonald.” He put his hand on Opal’s shoulder and lowered his head a little to try to catch her eyes. Opal pulled her shoulder away. Her face went white.
“What? I’m sorry, geez. I’m joking. If you wanna know what’s funny, I ate that cheeseburger, okay?” Lucas said. Opal walked back inside and sat down on a folding chair. Lucas followed her in and pulled up a chair next to her. After some coaxing, Opal told Lucas everything. He was the first person she’d ever told, not just about Ronald but about her mom, the island, what their lives were like before that. Lucas convinced her it would eat her up eventually if she didn’t find out for sure about Ronald.
“He’s like that cheeseburger in my backpack before I ate it,” Lucas said. Opal laughed like she hadn’t laughed in a long time. A week later they were on a bus to Ronald’s house.
* * *
—
They waited for two hours across the street from Ronald’s house, hiding behind a mailbox. That mailbox became the only thing between finding out and not, between seeing him and not, between her and the rest of her life. She didn’t want to live, she wanted time to stop there, to keep Lucas there with her too.
Opal went cold when she saw Ronald come home in his truck. Seeing Ronald walk up the stairs to that house, Opal didn’t know if she wanted to cry from relief, immediately run away, or go after him, wrestle him to the ground, and finish him off with her bare hands once and for all. Of all that could have occurred to her, what came up in her mind was a word she’d heard her mom use. A Cheyenne word: Veho. It means spider and trickster and white man. Opal always wondered if Ronald was white. He did all kinds of Indian things, but he looked as white as any white man she’d ever seen.
When she saw his front door close behind him, it closed the door on all that had come before, and Opal was ready to leave.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“You don’t want to—”
“There’s nothing else,” she said. “Let’s go.” They walked the few miles back without saying a word to each other. Opal kept a couple of paces ahead the whole way.