“Then stop being mean. Stop saying you’re going to leave me. And stop crying.”
“Okay,” I said, wiping any lasting remnants to cover my tracks. “I stopped.”
“Good, ’cause I told you that you gotta stop acting like a baby.”
“I’m not acting like a baby. I’m mad.”
“Why are you mad?”
“Because they took my sticks and I hate this place and you’re always gone. Why do you have to leave all the time?”
“Because I’m a teenager now. I want to hang out with older kids like me.”
“You don’t like me anymore?”
She hooked an arm around my back. “I love you, Rory. You know that. You’re my best friend in this whole world. How about this? How about you come with me when I meet the producer tomorrow. When he sees how cute you are, he might have a part in the movie for you too.”
“You think so?”
“I know so, and then we can be stars together. Everyone will know our names.”
* * *
My lids layheavily over my eyes, protecting me from the vertigo that ascended any time I tried opening them. I couldn’t remember where I was, but I knew where I needed to be—on the phone with Grace, letting her know I was okay and that I was coming back to her as soon as the world stopped swaying.
“There you go. Open your eyes.”
The female voice was soothing in tone, and I struggled to follow her instruction, but as I cracked my eyes partially open, the room spun. Nothing was stationary. Flashes of light and white. A woman with black hair and a white coat. I was in a hospital.
“Right here. Focus on my light.”
Gradually the spinning stopped as my eyes rallied, working together for a common good. The woman came into view—a doctor, I assumed—and she was standing over me.
“Welcome back,” she said, checking my pupil reaction. “We’ve been worried about you.”
“What…?” I tried formulating words. “Where…?”
“You’re in the hospital. You were brought in with a head injury, among other issues.”
“How… how long… am I…?” I knew what I wanted to say but nothing was coming out of my mouth the way I wanted it to.
“You were brought in a little over a week ago. You’ve been sedated most of the time due to brain swelling.”
A heavy knot twisted in my stomach. I never called her. I never called Grace. She was going to think I’d been lying to her. That I didn’t care. I needed to find her number and call her. Where were my things? I tried to get up, but the spinning in my head wouldn’t allow it.
The doctor laid her hand on my shoulder and eased me back down. “We’re weaning you off the sedatives, but you need to stay as still as possible. You have a skull fracture. A concussion. Some broken bones.”
“My stuff. Where is it?”
“As far as I know, you weren’t brought in here with anything but the clothes on your back. No wallet or bag to help us identify you. Can you tell me your name?”
Nothing? I had nothing at all? No buckets. No sticks. No backpack or the money Grace had given me for the motel. And if all that was gone, no note with Grace’s phone number written on it in bright-pink Sharpie. That had been my only connection to her. Without it, she was as good as gone.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing death would just come for me and get it over with. “I’m no one.”
* * *
Rory, ten years old
