SOJOURNER (III): tmr gally

33: I should be the Anchor

Leo 33

It's dark out. I'm trudging though, with heavy eyelids, out of the last of the town. If there are any Cranks awake, they don't bother us.

Sheil heads up the group, with Lott trudging far behind us. Lott's eyes are heavy too, and he only glances up at me for a second. With a flick of his wrist, he calls me over to him. I stop walking, letting Beth move up ahead as Sheil catches up to me.

He walks past me, not waiting for me to catch up. I do though.

"Remind Sheil to take his insulin," Lott begins. His voice is hoarse and throaty, and he looks worse than the rest of us. Much worse. I can't tell if his hands are shaking since they are in his pockets. It's not particularly hot out since it is the middle of the night, but he is sweating through his jacket.

"Why don't you?" I ask, trying not to accuse him. The boys have talked since their fight earlier today. I'm beginning to accept that there are many things I'm never going to know. One of them is exactly what happens between the two of them. They tug back and forth as if they are one rope. They are fine, and then suddenly they are not, and I get the feeling it is the secret that Lott asked me to keep.

One that gives him all the symptoms of something Clint taught me to notice. Since they had a boy who would get injured over and over to get access to a specific drug. I doubt that is what Lott's been drinking, but I'd be an idiot if I hadn't picked up on it.

I take it he's run out of it.

"You're a stick," Lott looks down since he obviously isn't impressed with himself either. Not that I blame him either.

"He cares about you," I begin.

Lott shrugs, looking away. "He wants to understand. I want him to understand that he shouldn't want to understand. Just go remind him, before he keels over, or some other klunk."

I nod, jogging up to Sheil. He looks at me from next door.

"Hey, Anchor," he smiles at me. "You're still sure I can't call you Annie?"

"Perfectly," I almost laugh. That name feels so wrong on me. I am Leo, through and through, even if it isn't the name my parents gave me. I don't have to like WICKED to acknowledge I am who I am with the people I am with because of them. Even though they've put us through so much klunk, they gave me all my friends.

"Well, anyway Annie," Sheil offers. "What do you want?"

I bump into him playfully. "I want you to take your insulin."

"Right," he remembers. He stops, and the rest of the group follows suit. He pulls out the needle, and the insulin, and injects himself in the stomach as if he's done this a thousand times before.

"So, I've been thinking," he continues. "You and I are probably connected. The Anchor and the Mangrove, probably, right? They are both things in water, I guess."

"Wouldn't the Elastic and the Anchor work better?" I ask. "They hold things together."

He glances over to Lott. They both lock eyes, for at least a minute, before Sheil turns away. He shakes his head back and forth, stalking further off. I follow after him.

Sheil doesn't speak. He stares forward, out into the desert. As if he is expecting to see something.

"You're wrong," he manages, after a minute or two in silence. "You are nothing like him. We are alike."