Chapter eighteen

18.
I stepped off of the curb and into the street, yelling. “Onward, ho!”
Sophia immediately slapped me on the arm. “Quit being such a kid. Just find the stinking street.”
R plodded behind us, panting heavily. “Hey, come on guys, let a fellow catch up?”
Sophia shot him a glance. “I am not a guy.”
“Whatever, whatever. Just wait up!”
We had been navigating the streets for the past 10 minutes. After the movie ended and we exited the theater, R and I both had the burning craving for some pizza.
“There's a pizza place right over there,” Sophia had mentioned. But no, we wouldn't have any of that silly ol' Papa's Pizza. We wanted Figaro's, and nothing else.
Now we were marching up and down the streets, trying to find the right road. We had looked in the phone book and found the address, and I knew the general direction, or at least I said I did. I guess that's why they put me in charge. R called me 'our navigator'.
“Just Figaro's. No, Papa Pizza wasn't good enough for them. Just stupid, picky boys. Stupid stinkin' Figaro's...” Sophia muttered under her breath. For whatever reason, she had decided in her mind that we were lost. I only knew this because the minute I had paused, not know which way to turn, she had announced, “That's it! We're lost!” But I wasn't too dense to not notice it on my own.
R glanced at her as he jogged by. If I was walking and R was jogging, than she would definitely be storming. Definitely. Finally, R caught up to me.
“Wow, next time you leave me behind, lemme catch up, huh?” He was still panting a little, but still, I didn't pause. I was actually trying to keep my distance from Sophia, at least as far as I could without abandoning her. She wasn't in the best of moods. Silly girl mood swings, I thought. Because she had been fine at first, when we got the idea of going to Figaro's. It was just when she had decided “We're lost!” that she started being all... grumpy. Silly girls, I thought again.
“Wait up!” She called, and I did slow my pace a little. Not just for her, but for R, too. I could tell he was struggling, having ran over half of town to catch up. All because we had grown impatient while he was in the bathroom. That probably wasn't the nicest thing to do. My conscience was nagging me. I was trying to be supportive to R, to help him. Because if he didn't trust me, trust his best friend, he wouldn't give me proof. Proof that he was okay.
“Sorry for kind of leaving you behind,” I said.
“Ah, it's no biggie. Just don't do it again!”
“Right.”
We came to another intersection. “What's that street sign say?” I asked, peering down to my left as far as I could see. The words looked on little white squiggles on the green sign.
“Uh... Ple.. no, Phe. Phe...s..ml? Phesml?”
Sophia appeared behind us. “There's no such street as Phesml, weirdo.”
“But that's what it says!” He protested.
I squinted my eyes a little bit further, and the words jumped into view. “Oh, duh! Pheasant!”
Sophia snorted. “Whatever.” R said.
“But Pheasant isn't where we want to be,” Sophia pointed out. “So why are we fighting over what it says? We want to be on Prentiss.”
“Whatever.” R mumbled it that time.
I squinted down the road to the right. “Wait, what road are we even on right now?”
“That might be helpful knowledge.” R looked at the sign right next to him. “Jones.”
“And we're looking for Prentiss. Hey, isn't Jones only two streets away from Prentiss?”
“No,” said Sophia at the same time R said “Yes.” They stared at each other and I sighed, still squinting down the right road.
“Down that way is Marlin,” I realized. “And I know for a fact that Marlin Movies is right next to a Figaro's. I don't even care if it's the same one we're looking for. To the right!”
I walked that way without even checking to see if my companions were following, because I knew of course they were.
“You could at least care about us,” Sophia complained. It sounded like she was partly joking, but I could never really tell with her.
My stomach growled loudly in response. “I need food.”
“Oh yeah, I'm hungry, too!” R pushed his way in front of me. “Can you see it yet?”
“Not yet. Be patient! And besides, you sound like you just now remembered that you were hungry, after I said I was hungry.”
Fake, fun bickering went on was we walked down to Marlin street. When we reached it, though, a movie store was nowhere in sight. Neither was any pizza parlor, Figaro's or not.
Not to just figure out if we're on North or South Marlin, and which we need to be on. “Hmm.” I wondered out loud. “Hmm...”
“That doesn't sound good!” Sophia said, but all of a sudden in the period of time we were walking towards Marlin, her mood had seemed to have improved miraculously. All of a sudden she was saying things jokingly, instead of seriously and in an annoyed tone. I was glad. I didn't know why she had changed, but I was glad!
“Let's go left,” R suggested, pointing. “I have a gut feeling.”
“You can feel your gut?” Sophia said, sounding both incredulous and disgusted.
“I sure can feel mine,” I put in. “Because it's rumbling so hard and loud!”
R laughed and Sophia made an 'ewww' sound. I just laughed at both of them, and then turned right.
“What about my gut feeling?” R sounded a little hurt, and he was pouting out his lip, looking hilarious.
“You know, normally I would trust your judgment, R, but this time, no. I can see the movie shop, way down there – on the right.”
Sophia snickered. R laughed. I just kept walking, stomach rumbling with every jolt, step, and bounce.
Eventually, finally, we got to Figaro's – to realize that neither R nor I had any money over a dollar. Thank heavens for Sophia, though, she pitched in the rest of the money and we each got several slices of goodness. I felt guilty, though. Guilty the whole time we were in the pizza place, guilty because I felt paranoid. I was so nervous, so worried that somebody I knew would come in. Someone like Mike, or Kyle. Maybe even James. But why should I be nervous? I was with Sophia Markson and R(upert) Field. They were well-ish known. They were liked. I had nothing to worry about. And yet I had that nagging feeling, shivers running up and down my spine. Paranoid. Paranoid and guilty. That was me. I especially felt guilty when we were parting ways and Sophia told me that I didn't have to pay her back. Even more guilty when R actually gave me a hug, and said,
“Thanks, buddy. I had a great time.”
And also, just as worse, was the fact that I felt disappointed that I hadn't talked to R about this “trouble” or “serious stuff” James seemed to think he was in. How shallow could one guy get?


I thought I would be at home, in bed, 8 A.M. on Sunday. But I wasn't. In fact I was in a place I never would have imagined myself being, not again, not for a while at least. And especially not on Sunday morning. But yet, there I was, shivering from the cold of outside. In the hospital lobby. The same one where I had spent all those hours just a week ago.
“You're being so brave, Shane,” my mom would tell me. Trying to comfort me. I wasn't being brave, I was scared out of my wits. I had just gotten plenty of experience over the years of hiding my emotions. Then again, what is bravery exactly? I didn't know, but I didn't think I had any.
My parents had gotten a call at a little past 7 in the morning. I was still asleep, and didn't even wake when the phone rung. I had planned to sleep in. But then, the next thing I knew, my blankets were being thrown off of me, off my bed, leaving me exposed, in the cold. And I wasn't even wearing proper pajama bottoms that time. I jumped to my feet.
“Mom! What are you doing?” I had squinted my eyes, still adjusting to the morning light and air, and my mom's figure had appeared. I could see my dad pacing the hallway outside my bedroom door, talking on the phone in a hushed voice. “Give me that!” I grabbed a blanket she was holding in her hand, wrapping it around my waist. No matter how old you are, a guy still feels pretty weird letting his mom see him in his boxers.
“Shane-” she took a step forward and then gasped. She must have overheard something my father was saying into the telephone, because she whirled around, whipping her head in his direction. She stood there for a minute, frozen, ears and eyes rapt upon what he was saying. Then she seemed to lose interest and swung back to me. “You have to get dressed, hurry.”
“What? What's going on?” I was getting nervous from the hint of panic in Mom's voice.
“It's Mrs. Field. Somethings happened, she's at the hospital.”