My Abandonment(13)

"Nameless," I say. "Haven't I always been your friend?"

His breath is foul like dirt and like he really does eat bugs and banana slugs. He breathes through his mouth which is a loud way to breathe. Around his ankles are what look like rawhide shoelaces.

"Those could trip you," I say, pointing, and he doesn't even look down. I say, "If they snagged on something or something. What, you think it's pretty funny to see if I get frustrated? Listen, I don't have to talk to you."

My voice is louder than I want it to sound and still I keep talking fast like that will hold him there and finally make him answer.

"I met a boy who thinks you're a Bigfoot," I say, and for a moment I think he's actually listening and might say something. "Does that make you happy?" I say. "You know, just because you're so dirty doesn't mean anything. My name is Caroline, in case you forgot it."

Now he really turns away and I don't care but I follow him anyway, just to show that I can. It's dusk now but my eyes are adjusted. Nameless is really going on all fours, not crawling exactly since his feet are on the ground so his butt is up in the air and he's practicing spinning around behind trees to hide and when he stop he sniffs at the air like he can smell something but really if he could he'd know that I'm following him which he doesn't know. So I stop following and let him go since I don't know what else I would say.

So I walk all the way down by Balch Creek where it's cool even on the hottest days. I go on a side path past the broken down stone house and I backtrack where I cross a trail that's on a map and I walk backward for a while, putting my heels down first so anyone would think that I'd gone where I'd come from when actually I am in another place entirely. I am walking in the dusk through the last stand of trees, toward the first houses and I can see their black rooftops through the leaves closer to me and also lights in some of the windows.

But there are no lights in Zachary's windows and I watch a long time almost twenty minutes and do not see any dogs inside or anyone. After another ten minutes it's dark out and I climb the short wire fence and step across the yard. I knock on the back door and the sound is small so I knock again louder. I decide that if Zachary comes out and talks to me I'll let him take my picture this time.

Headlights flash along the side of the house and a car's engine chokes down. I run back to the fence, climb it, drop down low. No one comes. I wait another ten minutes and nothing changes at Zachary's house. All the windows are dark and quiet.

I check my watch again but there's two hours left of alone time and all I want is to see Father since I know at least he's a person who will actually talk with me. Nameless I am thinking about. How he tries to convince me he can't speak or tries to convince himself that he's changed like that or that a person can change like that. Once a person knows how to talk they know how unless they have a sore throat but that can't last forever and even then you can whisper. I'm thinking that Father and I will set up a snare and catch Nameless up just to show him who knows the forest park best and is not just pretending.





We've almost done my history homework and we're playing a game of chess when Father hears something I don't hear.

"Caroline," he says. Before he was talking softly, laughing, but his voice is a sharp whisper. "Quiet," he says. "Quick to the hiding holes."

A dog barks, a dog whines, closer to us. The chess pieces spill across the bed and we're running away, Father looking back and I'm keeping up afraid because of the look on his face and still thinking maybe it's a game or practice but the branches are snapping back behind him just over my head. We're not halfway to the hiding holes and there's a closer bark and the rasped breathing of a dog and a man shouts somewhere behind us. Above the birds escape through the branches of the trees.

Father reaches back for me. "Caroline," he says. "The trees."

I'm faster climbing and branches break off under his feet since he's so big but we're in the trees next to each other and twenty feet off the ground when the dogs arrive, really barking now. They don't pass us by, they sniff right to the bottom of the trees and look up and there's no making friends with them. They leap with their front paws clawing the bark and land and do it again. They wear red vests that say POLICE in white letters. One is a shepherd dog and the other has floppier ears and a looser face. They keep on barking until the men arrive.

"Weapon!" one man shouts. "What's that in your hand, sir? Drop it!"

"Bracelets," another man says. "Calm down."

There are six men and four are holding guns and two are dressed in camouflage clothing like hunters. Two are policemen and one is in tan-colored pants and a white shirt, sweating. The last man is in regular clothes too. It takes a moment for me to see that it's the runner who ran through our camp.