Don’t Let Me Go(15)

Anyway, whatever the reason, Rayleen stopped, and she looked down, shocked, like Grace had just said something terrible. Like she’d said a bad word or something, but Grace went over everything she’d said, really fast in her head, and there were no bad words in it.

“Why would you say a thing like that, Grace?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Why wouldn’t they like you?”

“Well, I’m not really sure, but I know some people don’t. I think maybe they don’t like me because they think I’m too loud, because people tell me all the time that I’m too loud, and they say it like it’s a thing they don’t like. And maybe, I think, sometimes people like kids because they don’t have to spend too much time with them, and can just say a few things to the kid and then send them right back to their mom. So I think maybe people don’t like me as much now that my mom isn’t such an easy person to send me back to.”

She kept looking at Rayleen’s face while she was saying all this, and Rayleen’s face still had that terrible look, like Grace was breaking her heart, but she didn’t really know why, because it was just the truth.

“I’m sure everybody likes you.”

And Grace said, “No, not everybody.” But Rayleen looked so miserable that Grace decided to change the subject, because she didn’t like making people miserable, at least, not if she could help it. So she said, “Do you like me?” And then, as soon as she’d said it, she realized it wasn’t really as far from the subject as she thought it ought to be.

“Of course I do.”

“What do you like about me?”

But, you know what? Rayleen couldn’t think of anything.

“Well, I don’t really know you very well. Yet. Later I’ll get to know you better, and then I’m sure I’ll be able to tell you lots of things I like about you. Tons. I’m sure.”

“So you really don’t like me. Yet. You just don’t exactly not like me.”

“No, I do. I definitely do. I just need more time knowing you before I can give you all the reasons why.”

“I like you. And I know why, too. It’s because you’re letting me order pizza.” Grace thought it might be wise to bring up the pizza, just to make extra-sure it hadn’t been forgotten. “And because, out of all the people who saw me sitting on the stairs, you’re the only one who decided to help me.”

Grace waited. But Rayleen didn’t say anything. She didn’t even start walking again. They were still just standing there, in the middle of the hall, holding hands. It was almost as though some big wind came along and stole all Rayleen’s words or something.

So, since somebody had to say something, Grace said, “Let’s go talk to Billy.”

And Rayleen got unstuck then, and she said, “OK. Yeah. Let’s do that. I’d like to meet this friend of yours.”

“And then pizza,” Grace said.

“Yes,” Rayleen said. “And then pizza.”





Billy



“Oh, dear,” Billy said. Then he froze for a long moment, as if a simple “Oh, dear” might be enough to heal the situation.

But the person on the other side of the door knocked again.

“There seems to be someone at our door,” he said.

He spoke the words quietly, and in a reasonable tone, then took a moment to congratulate himself on his ability to stay calm.

People knocked on his door. It wasn’t an entirely unknown phenomenon. It happened. But that was always on grocery delivery days. And this was not.

“Oh, dear,” he said again, in response to the third knock.

It was a polite knock. Did robbers and muggers, and other sorts of miscreants, knock politely? Probably. Probably they did. They would do that sort of thing. Just to lull one into a false sense of security.

He slipped over to the door as if darting through sniper fire without benefit of cover, and stood with his back to the heavy wood.

“Who’s there?” Billy called out, careful to monitor his voice for steadiness. Unfortunately, the effort was a complete and utter failure, and his voice broke as if in the process of changing with puberty.

“It’s your neighbor from across the hall. Rayleen. And Grace. You know Grace, right? She says she knows you.”

“Yes, we — I know Grace,” he said, a bit more steadily. Then he lowered his voice. “But we don’t know you,” he muttered, much more quietly. “Seeing you out the window, and thinking you present yourself well, is hardly knowing.”

“I’m sorry,” Rayleen said through the door. “Is there someone there with you right now? Should we come back another time?”

Good question. Should he make them come back another time? But if he told them to, they surely would. And then he’d have to live for days in the knowledge that the same axe was about to fall on him again. The prospect seemed unpalatable. No, the least painful time to deal with this situation would definitely be now.

Billy undid two locks and opened the door a few inches, the safety chain still in place.

He looked down at Grace, who waved at him. He could definitely see the middle part of Rayleen, the part that hovered at about Grace-level, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up at her face. She might try to look into his eyes, or commit some other unbearable act of human relations.