Misty picked up the piece that had his eye stuck in it and hurled it with all her strength toward the opening above us. It was a good throw, but she was weak and it didn't quite clear the ledge. The bread and the eye came back down, and thunked on the ground for a second time. Franklin laughed harder. "Enjoy your lunch ladies!" Misty screamed in frustration. I absorbed her scream, inhaled it, took nourishment from it. Then I lost my cool. The bread sat, fresh and tempting, the eye facing the other way. I marched over to it, plucked the eyeball out, and slammed it to the earth. My visibility wasn't good, but I saw the roundness of it beneath me and slammed my heel into it. Again. Again. Again. It crunched beneath my foot. I heard Misty heaving in the corner, but it did nothing to still my rage. I returned to it for several more stomps, until my friend touched my arm.
"Lucy. Luce." I stopped to meet her lovely eyes, still whole and in her head. "You can stop." I froze in place. "Sorry," I whispered.
"No, it's good. It's funny. It's... yeah. Can you just hide it though? Or something? I don't think I can look at it.
"Right." She covered her eyes and I kicked the piece of Franklin to the other side of the blackness. "All set," I announced.
I suddenly felt sheepish. What was that? Who was I?
When Misty spoke, she had much more energy in her voice. And... pride? "Did you really just smash Franklin's eyeball?"
"Flat as a pancake."
"Nice." She raised her hand for a high-five and I was grateful to Griffin for teaching me that funny ritual people had. Still I ignored her raised hand.
"Please. If ever there was a time for a secrethandshake, it's for moments like this." And we completed our childhoodhandshake, somber as a councilor's prayer.
YOU ARE READING
Three Converts
General FictionLucy is born into a community that requires its members to recruit three people before they turn twenty. Or pay the price.
