Page 6 of The Sun
“Why?”
“He said those words make your mouth dirty. I guess the soap helps get them out.” I grabbed one of my dolls and combed through her hair. “Bobby Fulmer got his mouth washed out, and he said it tasted like fairy poop.”
Elias snarled his lip. “How does he know what fairy poop tastes like?”
“I guess it tastes kinda like poop but cleaner?”
He plopped down in the grass beside me, staring at the pile of dolls before he snatched up Ken. He held the Barbie in front of him like it was a snake that might strike. “I said I didn’t want to play because I don’t know how. Not ’cause I don’t like you. I meant it last night.” He threw down Ken but didn’t make eye contact. “I like you, and I don’t want you to take your promise back.”
“You can’t take a promise back.” I shook my head.
“Sure, you can.”
“Pretty sure it’s a sin if you do.”
“Shit.” He drew the vowel out, and a slick grin shaped his lips. He wasn’t afraid of getting his mouth washed out, and I had a feeling he probably wasn’t afraid of the devil.
“My paw said there ain’t no such thing as sin.” Elias was so different than me. He was what a lot of people in Fort Morgan, Alabama, would call a problem child. Raised by heathens, bred in sin—at least that’s what I overheard my best friend, Miss Fulmer say to my momma once. But I thought I liked Elias just fine, heathen sin and all.
“Well, I don’t take back promises,” I said. “And what do you mean you don’t know how to play?”
“We never had toys. Paw would break them anytime the church dropped some off. Sometimes he’d set ’em on fire. He said pretending made you stupid.”
Scowling, I combed through Barbie’s hair faster. “That’s not nice.”
Elias snatched one of the dolls with brown hair, flipped her over, and pulled her skirt up before shaking his head and dropping her next to Ken. “Don’t seem like much fun,” he said.
I exhaled, trying to think of things I’d seen boys play at school.
“You know about Robin Hood?” I asked.
“Sure do.” He sat up straight wearing a proud smile. “Read all about him and his merry men and that Friar Tuck. Stole from the rich and gave to the poor. I like him.”
“Wanna play Robin Hood?” Before he had a chance to answer, I took him by the hand, then led him to my treehouse in the dogwood at the back of the yard.
I climbed the ladder, and he followed me. We just stood on the platform, staring at one another. I kept looking at his patchwork eyes, at how they changed depending on the way the sun hit them. And he stared at me. Hard.
“You be Robin Hood, and I’ll be Maid Marion. Just—” I held out my arm, clutching an imaginary bow, while I pulled an invisible arrow from the bag slung over my shoulder. Elias’s eyes tracked my every movement, and his brow wrinkled. “Pretend you got a bow and arrow, and you’re shooting the bad guys.”
“Like King John?”
“Yep.” I stuck my tongue through my lips and closed one eye while I aimed. Then I released the arrow into the air, pretending to watch it arc before it hit my target square in the chest. “I got him!” I bounced on the balls of my feet and clapped.
“You gotta make sure he’s really dead.” Elias hopped out of the treehouse, scurrying across the yard to where I imagined King John lay.
We ran about the yard for hours, slaying the enemy and giving their riches to the peasants of the land—which ended up being my Barbies and Ken—and then Elias led me to the treehouse again, out of breath and all smiles.
“All right,” he said. “I’m gonna pretend to leave, and you gotta call for me. Say Robin.”
He started down the ladder. Just before his foot touched the ground, I called him.
With a smile, he clambered right back up to the top. “So you do love me then?”
I froze. My heart pounded in my chest.
“It’s from the book,” he whispered, like we were actors and he didn’t want the audience to be broken from the play’s spell. “You’re supposed to say, ‘yes, Robin, I do.’”
“Yes, Robin, I do.”
