Gladys

Gladys and Jude sat on the picnic table behind the old church. They had searched forever, without finding a trace.

Her leg had a jagged cut. He’d gone to the corner store for a bottle of water to clean it.

“That fence was rusty,” he said. “You could get tetanus.”

Fallen leaves littered the table and the grass. They were all different shapes. The tree had an identity problem. Gladys, holding the unopened bottle of water, rubbed her eyes.

What had just happened?

“So,” she said. “So that was Jabari?”

“Uh-huh.”

“The one you built the fortress with?”

“Uh-huh.”

“He found True there?”

“I guess.”

Gladys touched a finger to her cut. Jude wasn’t telling her everything. He wasn’t even looking at her. His head was bowed and his arms hung down between his knees. He looked like someone waiting to get punished.

This was much worse than seeing him angry.

“But...” She set down the water bottle and picked up a fallen leaf. It was shaped like a ghost, holding up its ghostly arms. “I don’t understand.”

“He...he wanted to return Pook.”

It was her turn to grow quiet. She tried to think, but her brain began to go places she didn’t want it to.

“I still don’t get it, Jude. Why’d you let him? Is that what you meant when you said you changed your mind?” When he didn’t answer, she tried to help him. “Or...was he just trying to prank you? That would be a really evil prank. Is Jabari evil? Is that why you’re not friends anymore?”

Jude shoved himself up from the picnic table. She was sure he’d kick something, or throw something, or curse Jabari out. She almost hoped he would. Instead he carefully set her bike, which they’d gone back to get, along with her shoe, upright. He looked ridiculously big standing next to it, but also...Was weak the word? It couldn’t be, not for Jude. Her mouth started talking again, trying to put words to this, trying to make sense out of it.

“And what did he mean about five hundred dollars? Is he delusional? Plus. Plus, what he said about your word not being worth spit? That was disgusting. Also completely untrue. He deserved to have his shoes peed on. I wish True had pooped on them. He—”

“Could you stop?”

The expression on his face turned her tongue to stone.

“Jabari was right. I was breaking my word. To him. To you.” He inhaled. “Most of all, to Pookie.”

He reached into his back pocket, the pocket where he used to carry the tree book, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out on the picnic table, then stepped back as if she was a bomb about to explode.

Gladys read the words. She looked at the photo. The leaf fell from her hand, spun a slow spiral to the ground. Her tongue lay petrified in her mouth.

“I know,” he said. “You don’t have to say it because I already know. Okay? Okay?”

Gladys didn’t realize she’d jumped off the table till she was eye level with his chest. She pulled back her arm and socked him with all her might, directly in his middle. Which was hard as a rock. As a tree trunk.

“Gladys,” he said, and his voice was so sad.

She couldn’t bear to look at him. She couldn’t bear to be near him. She couldn’t even bear to watch him breathe. She stalked away, then spun around and climbed onto the picnic bench so she towered over him.

“You were going to betray her.”

He nodded, miserable.

“Behind my back. Without telling me.”

“It’s a lot of money.”

Mama had a grater she used for shredding cheese. It always gave Gladys the creeps to watch. One moment the cheese was firm and the next it was reduced to thin, limp strips. That was how Gladys felt now. Shredded.

She should have known he wasn’t her real friend. Why didn’t she know? What was wrong with her? How could she have believed that he wanted to save True as much as she did? Maybe even more than she did? How could she have believed he cared? Not just about True but about their friendship, too? She was so stupid. She was the stupidest girl ever born. She didn’t know anything about anything that mattered at all.

“The woman isn’t even there anymore,” she said, sinking down onto the table. “She moved away.”

“Just like her to offer a reward, then leave town before she had to pay it.”

“Maybe that’s how True got out. Maybe she was packing and didn’t pay attention. Maybe True saw a chance to escape.”

To escape but not go far. Because she hoped they’d find her.

He stared up into the confused tree. He still hadn’t asked why she’d been at the house. He didn’t know what she’d been thinking—that the best thing for True was to bring her to the shelter. This was the secret she’d kept from him.

After all this time, after everything they’d been through, what did they really know about each other?

Gladys wrapped her arms around herself.

“What should we do?” She hated saying we. It felt like another lie.

Jude didn’t say anything. Of course he didn’t say anything! But then he did.

“I wish you’d wash that cut. It looks like it hurts.”

Gladys’s eyes burned with tears. Her leg did hurt. It hurt, but not nearly as badly as her heart did. It had all turned out so wrong. Neither of them had given True what she needed. No wonder she ran away. No wonder she didn’t come back when they called.