Ghosting Read Free

back page
    of our town newspaper
    every week,
    not to mention plastered
    on benches all around town.
    My smiley-face mom
    holding an umbrella:
    “I’m On Your Side,
    Come Rain Or Come Shine”
    Gag me.
    At least there’s Anil now.
    Good, real,
    hot-bod Anil.
    Maybe senior year
    won’t be all bad.

FAITH
    I love
    riding
    my bike
    around town.
    Today I
    take Polly
    because
    she’s restless,
    on edge.
    I know
    she is
    because
    so am I.
    And the
    reason
    is that
    Mom and Dad
    have been
    yelling at
    each other
    all morning.
    About Emma,
    of course.
    Mom thinks
    they should be
    stricter,
    but Dad says
    no.
    Emma should have fun.
    Brendan’s a good kid.
    She’ll be off to college soon, needs to get used to her freedom.
    I get
    where Dad’s
    coming from.
    On the
    other hand,
    he’s wrong
    about
    Brendan.
    Even in
    middle school,
    kids told
    stories
    about him,
    crazy stuff
    he’s done.
    But he’s
    a jock, and
    good-looking,
    so he gets
    away with
    everything.
    Still, Emma
    knows
    how to
    handle him,
    the way
    she knows
    how to
    handle
    everything.
    Although
    one night
    this summer
    she came
    home
    upset.
    Some
    stupid prank
    he pulled
    that went
    a little
    too far.
    Almost got us killed,
she said.
    But she
    said it
    angry,
    not scared.
    Emma doesn’t
    get scared.
    Not the way
    most people
    do.
    One good thing
    about Emma is
    she always
    tells me
    the truth.
    Any question
    I ask.
    She said
    it’s because
    I need to know
    the way things
    really are,
    not the bullshit
    you get from
    parents
    and teachers
    and movies
    and TV.
    So she’s told
    me all about
    the sex
    she’s had,
    the drugs
    she’s tried.
    She says
    I’m smart
    like her
    and won’t
    get carried
    away by
    any of it.
    I’m thinking
    about Emma
    and Brendan
    again,
    wondering
    what he
    did that
    almost got
    them killed,
    when I
    realize I’ve
    come to
    the front
    gates of
    Walnut Creek
    Cemetery.
    I slow down,
    and Polly
    slows, too.
    Slanting rays
    of the sun
    send long
    black stripes
    along the
    green cemetery
    grass,
    shadows
    from the
    grave markers
    in their
    straight rows.
    I stop to look.
    Rubbing
    Polly’s ears
    with one hand,
    I shade
    my eyes
    with the
    other, and
    think about
    Emma again.
    And I
    realize
    that I
    am
    smart
    like her.
    Actually,
    maybe
    smarter.
    Because
    I would never
    get involved
    with a boy
    like Brendan.

WALTER
    Looking down from my window,
    I watch Mother hunched over,
    kneeling in her garden.
    Working all the time on her roses.
    She looks old, bent, confused sometimes.
    Found a pile of dirty dishes
    in the freezer yesterday.
    But I’ll take care of her.
    She always took care of me.
    Watching over me, protecting me from bad guys.
    Read to me every night. Cowboy stories.
    My favorites, over and over.
    Then I see a movement by the cemetery
    down the block, and look over.
    I get nervous when I see people there
    because it’s either someone sad with flowers,
    Or it’s one of the bad guys,
    the people who pester us.
    But this time I see that it’s just
    a girl on a bike.
    She’s got a dog with her, a large soft-looking dog,
    and she’s petting it.
    I can tell she loves her dog
    and her dog loves her.
    Even though she’s far away and I can’t see her face,
    she looks nice,
    like someone who could be a friend.
    If I had friends.
    Then I see her get back on her bike and
    ride off, her dog running beside her.
    Her ponytail flies out behind her, like that
    tattered wind sock Mother put up a long time ago.
    I’m feeling good, not lonely.
    And then a car drives by, slowly.
    I hear a muffled shout and a whistle,
    and then Mother yelling back, angry.
    I get angry, too. And I wish the bad guys
    would just leave us alone.
    If everyone would leave us alone,
    except nice girls like that one with her dog,
    we’d be okay.

Friday, August 27
    POLICE CHIEF AUBREY DELAFIELD
    Quiet day. Which is a good thing
    since all hell’s gonna break loose,
    starting tonight.
    Weekend before school starts.
    All those high school kids,
    spoiled kids