Queenie Grace runs all the way home, back to Grandma’s. She deposits me ever so slowly and carefully onto the ground.
I try to stand. Finally, I heave myself up, and I limp to the door, hopping mostly on my left leg.
I burst through the door. To my surprise, Grandma and Trullia are awake, watching TV. They both gawk at me, jaws falling.
“Why are you guys up so late?” I ask.
“We were both having trouble sleeping,” Trullia says.
“Lily!” says Grandma. “Why is your face all scratched up? Why, honey, you’re all bloody!”
“What the heck . . . ?” says Trullia.
“Call 911!” I gasp. “Tell them to go into the woods, past a pond, I think. It’s sort of in the middle where there’s a campfire circle. Mike and Charlie and this other guy have Henry Jack. Call . . . quick.”
“What do you mean, they have . . . ,” Grandma says. She looks so confused, frozen as if she’s in shock.
“Please, just call! I’ll explain later!”
Trullia picks up her phone. She calls. Her voice is pretty calm. I think maybe she thinks I’m exaggerating.
Grandma gets off the sofa and comes to hug me.
“Oh, honey, are you okay?” she asks.
I nod.
“Queenie Grace carried me.”
“Oh, she used to do that with your grandpa. I think it was her favorite trick.”
Trullia is off the phone.
“I’m surprised you didn’t just ride on her back,” she says.
“Well, there were all the backpacks. . . .”
“What was Queenie Grace doing with backpacks?”
“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”
“And you said that Charlie and Mike are in the woods, and they have Henry Jack?”
I nod.
“I told you,” Grandma barks. “I told you that man was no good!”
“So why were you and Henry Jack and Queenie Grace in the woods in the first place?” Trullia demands.
“It’s . . . a long story. Can we please go meet the police in the woods?”
“I can hear you breathing,” says Grandma. “Wheezing. I think you need to go to the hospital. What’s wrong with your leg?”
“I fell. I think I broke my ankle.”
“Oh, jeez,” says Trullia. “One thing after another.”
They hustle me outside, Grandma’s arm reaching up to circle my waist. I can hear sirens. The police are on their way.
Mary the Bearded Lady comes out of her trailer.
“What’s going on?” she calls across the yard.
“Explain later!” Grandma shouts. “It’s a long story.”