Mayday Read Free Page B

does deal with everyone else’s trash, you know? Besides, if your dad’s a policeman, it’s like being a preacher’s kid.”
    â€œIs that bad?” I tossed a stone toward the boat. Miss.
    â€œI don’t know, what do you think?”
    I drew my legs up close. “I think you have a great mom and a cool dad, and who cares what they do.”
    Here he paused, leaned over, and we bumped shoulders. “You know, if we were married, they could be your parents, too.”
    Yes, he said that.
    â€œYou’re an idiot.” But those were just words. Already at ten, I couldn’t imagine life where he wasn’t.
    As years went by, Basil’s dad also kept his cophood hidden, relishing in his secret identity each time he broke up one of our parties. “Do your parents know where you are?” he’d ask Basil.
    â€œNo sir,” Basil would reply. “And I’d appreciate your not telling them.”
    Dewey’s eyes twinkled, and then hardened. “I’ll need to take you in, son.” Basil always left our gatherings in cuffs. Dewey marched him to his squad and threw him in back. Unaware that Basil’s police escort ended at his own front door, our classmates ascribed to Basil hero status.
    The playful interchanges forever earned Officer Dewey my respect, a fact unchanged when Basil told me he’d later been tazed three times for consumption in the comfort of his own home.
    How I would have liked to see that. . . .
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    â€œ I have no need of this ambulance,” Officer Dewey huffed. “Move ’er out.”
    â€œIn time,” Sadie reached out and cradled the man’s cheek in her hand. Dewey pressed his head against it and closed his eyes. When next they opened, Dewey tipped his hat and marched away.
    â€œWhat did you do to him?” I quickly covered my cheeks, peeked at Sadie, and then dropped both my gaze and my hands. “He didn’t see me.” I had wanted him to so bad, even if it would have meant a good tazing. “I’m still nothing. It’s not real. I feel me, but I can’t feel any of this.” I reached toward her wool mittens. . . .
    Rough and scratchy to the touch. So were Sadie’s fingers. I stared at the woman with wide eyes.
    â€œLife feels good, don’t it?”
    â€œWhat do you know about my life?” I drew back my hand, held it up in front of her face. “Don’t answer. It doesn’t matter. Any minute this dream will end, and I’ll wake up beside Lifeless and—”
    â€œShoot girl, you there right now.” Sadie pointed toward the ambulance’s dashboard, grabbed her needles, and started a slow knit.
    I leaned forward, squinted at the mounted display; the hospital room came into focus on the screen. The cheating scrub placed my mirror back in the bedside drawer, twisted off her wedding ring, and strutted out of the room. No question about who planned to pick her up.
    There lay Lifeless, her monitor beep steady, the all-done tone of a microwave. Adele stood reading aloud.
    â€œIf you need volume, hit that bottom—”
    â€œI know where she is in the book,” I said. “I’ve read Plato’s
Republic
before. Adele does a good job. I mean, philosophy isn’t her thing— What is that?”
    Faint, like a whisper, a shadow slumped against the wall. Gnarled and disfigured, its eyes were closed, and I turned away.
    â€œHard takin’ that first look, isn’t it, dear?”
    I shook my head. That thing was in my corner.
    â€œSo, yes, Coraline, that be what you look like, your soul anyway.”
    I had no words. As mentioned, I’d spent plenty of time reading about souls, whether they exist, why they exist. I had never until that moment given thought to their appearance. Weeks before the crash, I came to the conclusion that the soul is the truest part of you. Knowing that was my working