No Name Trilogy, Book I: No Name

Chapter 14 - Down

Slim wouldn't say much more after that. He commented on a few things about the city, but he wouldn't say anything else about Henry or the Circuit. I was sure he knew a lot more than he was willing to offer, but I certainly wasn't going to press him if Henry wasn't, and for his part, Henry didn't. He was lost in his own mind. I watched him for a while, wishing more than anything that I could get into his head. He'd moved off the barricade and onto the ground, his head back against the chain-link fence, his arms resting on his knees. His eyes were closed most of the time, but I knew he wasn't asleep; he was trying to bridge the information Slim had given him with what little he knew of himself. I couldn't help but wonder whether I still held any place in his thoughts. My gut told me that, at least for the present, I didn't. And that frightened me.

While we sat there, Henry purposefully detached, Slim and I were essentially on our own. He smoked a couple more cigarettes, and all I could think was how bad they smelled and how jealous I was that this weird stranger had shown up and seized Henry's attention. I caught Slim eyeing me a few times, but when I did, he'd look away as if he hadn't just been staring. Maybe he was resenting my presence, but he was crazy if he thought I'd leave Henry. The two of us held no interest in conversing with one another, though, and that was at least something. I didn't have to force words with Slim.

I began to drift in and out of wakefulness as the moments passed, but I was each time jerked awake with double fear--fear of my only memory returning and fear that Slim might try to run off with Henry if I lost consciousness. But the longer we sat there, the more time began to fold itself into strange moments, where I couldn't quite tell how long my eyes had been closed before suddenly opening them. Each time they opened, Slim was in the same place; Henry was in the same place. We were all still just sitting there. And then a weird thing happened. I was dozing, head beginning to droop, when a voice that sounded like my own spoke clear as day: He knows you. Don't trust him.

I bolted upright. The voice had sounded right next to me. But no one was there other than Slim, who gave me a suspicious raise of his eyebrow. The voice must've been part of a dream, I told myself, like how sometimes when you're in that haze between sleeping and waking, you think you hear things. As I was wondering about it, I suddenly realized I must look stupid to Slim. But what the voice had said--it had to have been my own intuition, and it'd reinforced my feelings toward him. I couldn't trust him. He did know more than what he'd told us. I stood up quickly, narrowed my eyes at Slim. "You're a liar," I accused him.

He, too, rose. "How so?" But I saw a rodent fear in his eyes.

"You do know me, don't you?"

He didn't immediately answer, was probably trying to figure out what to say, which ended up being, "I've never seen you before in my life."

"I don't believe you."

"Fine by me."

"Stop," Henry suddenly interrupted, having woken from his remoteness. "Look."

He pointed toward the junkyard, and I saw that where the horizon met the pile of nondescript refuse, the sky had begun to pale. It was turning a sort of sickly green color, like orange blurring with brown. Slim forgot about me and said, "Time to go." He said it to Henry, not to me; he was surely angry at me. "Come on. If you don't follow, you're never getting in. This chance is your one and only."

Henry stood and adjusted the waist of his pants; he was so lean, and I'd wondered how he'd found jeans in that cabin that'd fit him. Maybe he actually hadn't. Then he came close to me and, leaning in, said so Slim wouldn't hear, "Don't worry. We won't get split up."

His breath against my ear made my cheek begin to tingle. Or maybe it was what he'd said. I didn't know, but I felt such relief to hear he was still looking out for me.