Page 111 of Roses and Skulls

My uncle turns my arms over and runs his thumbs over each crease. He stares at my right one, so I follow his gaze. His thumb runs over a bruise that is forming. Raffe and I look at each other. “Did Draven give you something?”

I scratch at my nose, it’s so itchy. Did they bring a truck? I’m so sleepy, I just want to lie down. My gaze scours the room, looking for a place to rest. It stops on Raffe, he’s looking at me like he is expecting me to say something. What did he ask? Oh, yeah, did Draven give me something? I search my pockets. Nope. Nothing, he didn’t give me anything.

Using my hands, I tell him no.

Then I sign, my fingers flying, that I’m tired and want to go home.

Anguish washes over his face as he watches my hands. He swallows and drops his head, pressing his thumbs into his eyes.

I can’t take it anymore; I need to close my eyes. My feet push off the ground, sending my chair back. Raffe startles, his head darting up.

I slide off the chair and lie down on the cool cement floor. This is nice, this will work fine. My eyes fall closed.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but someone is picking me up and settling me on their lap.

He presses my head into his neck and his beard tickles my cheek. Oh, it’s Elijah.

Elijah.

Elijah feels like home.

I want to go to sleep but I’m straddling that place between here and there.

Where am I again?

Oh, I’m with grandpa. I love his beard. He looks just like a pirate with his dark hair. No, his hair is silver now. I should make him some tea.

“Do you want tea?” I say aloud.

No. Grandpa doesn’t like tea. He likes root beer floats. Yeah, we love ice cream. And dancing. And rainbows. And…

Something doesn’t feel right. I must have had too many floats. I groan, holding my stomach. I just need to sleep. Keep my eyes closed and sleep.

Why can’t I go to sleep? I don’t want to dream. No dreams.

One sheep, two sheep, this little piggy went to market.

Oh god, I need to find a bathroom.

My eyes fly open, and I sit up covering my mouth.

“Pull over,” Uncle Dan says urgently.

He hauls me out of the truck and holds me from behind as I crouch down on the desert floor, emptying the contents of my stomach which isn’t much, but I heave for so long I think my ribs are breaking. Squinting my eyes, I shield my face from the sun coming up in the distance. Like a pink diamond on the band of the horizon.

“We’re not far from home, hun,” Dan says, holding me close to him. I drop my head back on his chest, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand.

Raffe comes around the side of the truck with a bottle of water. “Here you go. Just sips,” he instructs.

I cough after a few gulps.

“I said sips,” he scolds gently.

They both help me back in the truck and it’s then I see the two forms in the pickup bed. I turn around in my seat and stare out the windshield. My mind desperately tries to clear away the fog. Everything is right there through the mist. What happened?

I feel like shit, and it hurts to think. Uncle Dan settles his arm around me and pulls me close to him, resting his chin on my head.

Raffe hops in beside us and fires up the engine of his pickup, with a quick look behind him he pulls back out onto the interstate.

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