The 'L' Word

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That afternoon we had a funeral for Black Betty. It more or less consisted of Steve and I shoving wildflowers into her engine and the four of us staring at it for a good two minutes.

"I wish we could light her up, you know?" Steve said. "Have her go out in a ball of fire."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "It's a minivan, not a Viking."

We walked into the next town, hot wiring the first empty car we came across. It was a black Toyota Corolla, according to Steve at least.

"I didn't know you knew so much about cars," I said from the passenger seat.

"Oh, you didn't?" He said. "I'm better with motorcycles, but I do know my way around the automobile art, a delicate thing most people wouldn't understand."

"Help me," Krel groaned in the back, his hands on his throat. "Your ego is pushing all the air out of the car."

"So we crossed the border into Jersey early this morning," Eli said. "We're looking for signs and Heartstone - whatever that is. But before we do that, what about wherever you guys were trying to go? We're going there first, right?"

"Yep," I said over my shoulder. "What's the address again, Krel?"

He made a strangled gasp, reaching towards the front seats. "I'm still suffocating . . ."

I reached over and slapped my hand against his back so hard he flopped onto the floor.

"Feeling better?"

He picked his head up, glaring as he rubbed his neck.

Steve glanced at him. "You gonna tell us the address or not, buttsnack?"

"It's an apartment complex in Trenton," Krel said, Eli pulling him back into a seat. "Rider avenue - I think. Somewhere near there."

"Trenton . . ." Steve drummed his fingers on the wheel. "That'll probably take us - maybe a couple hours? Eli can you find it?"

"Um," Eli's finger traced down the map in his lap. "Oh, here. Rush Crossing Apartments, that sound familiar?"

"Yes," Krel nodded. "That's it."

I turned in my seat, glancing back at him. "And you're sure that's where the signal was?"

Another nod, slowly this time. "I'm sure."

"You guys really think it could be them?" Eli asked. "You think it's your parents?"

Krel and I looked at each other, the ache I felt appearing behind his eyes. How badly we missed them. How desperately we wanted them back.

"We hope it is," I said, and I turned back in my seat.

We drove well into the night, navigating the pitch black streets before us with the one headlight that would work. Eli and I traded spots eventually, since Eli was the only one that could tell where we were going. Krel and I leaned on each other in the back, a thrumming anticipation coiled between us, so strong it was almost suffocating - for real.

It could be our parents - Mama and Papa. We could be together again, after all this time. It was almost easier not to think about it.

It was around three in the morning when our one headlight passed a scuffed sign: RUSH CROSSING APARTMENTS

Krel and I shot to attention as the car turned down the avenue. My knee was bouncing involuntarily. It felt like a balloon was being blown up inside my chest, every breath tighter and tighter. We were this close. This. Close.

I was about to be sick.

The majority of the apartments looked abandoned, with broken windows and missing doors. I'd heard of things like this happening when the economy tanked. Banks and people alike were going broke, so places like this were shut down. Houses were repossessed. The homeless population skyrocketed. I guess Rush Crossing didn't stand much of a chance.

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