On Halloween afternoon, I still don’t have the pumpkin I promised Sequoia. I’ve made attempts to return to the pumpkin patch, but I always chicken out as soon as the entrance is in sight, remembering the way everyone closed in on us. Shouting and snapping photos. I don’t want to go back alone. Even though I haven’t seen Nico since running into him at Starbucks at the beginning of October, I definitely haven’t stopped thinking about him. So I decide to head to the library, because I remember him saying he works on Halloween. Maybe he’ll go to the pumpkin patch with me when his shift is over. When I walk in on him in the computer lab, he’s too engrossed in the book he’s reading to see me. I sneak up behind him, lean over, and whisper, “Boo” into his ear.
He jumps in his seat. Fumbles his book to the floor.
I can’t help but laugh. “You okay?”
“You just pulled off a classic jump scare.”
“What’s that?”
“A movie thing. Jared loves them.”
“Still not following.”
He waves his hand in the air. “It’s when the visual suddenly changes on-screen, something pops up out of nowhere and scares you so bad it makes you jump.”
“Hmm. I guess I should’ve been able to figure that out.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He looks up at me. Smiles. “Hello, by the way.”
“Hello.”
“You remembered where to find me.”
“I did.”
I move closer. Let my hand linger along the edge of the back of his chair as I stand behind him. His hair looks even floppier from this angle. My fingers ache to run through it. To feel the silky strands fall between my knuckles.
“Do you want to go to the pumpkin patch with me when you’re done?” I say.
“The pumpkin patch?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
“Why?”
“Juniper,” Nico says, running his thumb across the edge of his laptop sitting on the desk in front of him. “You should probably see something. I just don’t like having to be the one to show it to you.”
“Now you’re scaring me.”
“Well, it is Halloween.” He grudgingly flips the laptop open and clicks his way to Facebook.
And there it is.
A video frozen. The triangle play button in the center of my mom’s face.
Poppy, Sequoia, and the one-hundred-pound pumpkin.
My dad off to the side.
And me, shell-shocked.
Then and now.
I press play.
The room is filled with the horrid words of the woman in workout gear all over again. Negligence. Blood on your hands.
Murderers.
Nico winces. “It’s really bad. I’m so sorry.”
My legs can’t hold me. I sink into the chair next to Nico. “Where did you find this?”
He looks at the computer. He can’t look at me. “Everywhere. But it started on the Concerned Citizens of Playa Bonita page on Facebook.”
I lean in closer, notice the page has 4.2K followers. That’s a lot. Almost one-third of this town.
“Is that all there is?”
“Not exactly.”
“Show me.”
He scrolls through the page, and there are several photos of my mom and me at our booth at the farmers market. All of them from different angles. Some close, some zoomed in. A caption loud and clear. These people gave Katherine St. Pierre the measles. Keep your precious babies away from them. I had no idea that many pictures were being snapped. I only remember the one the mom with the stroller took after Mary gathered a group of them to huddle together and whisper. To point and judge.
There’s also a photo of our house with the scarlet A on the door before my mom scrubbed it off. Stay away, the caption says.
Another photo of my mom and Sequoia in the front yard. Evil, says that caption.
One more of my mom and dad climbing out of Bessie in the parking lot at the auto mechanic. This is them, right?
My whole body shakes. “So that’s how everyone knows who we are. They’re basically stalking us. And they’ve been talking about us on this page for weeks.”
This is what my mom meant when she told the CDC representative that she didn’t believe we’d actually be kept anonymous. It’s only a matter of time before they know who we are, she’d said.
“I think they’re under the impression they’re doing something good by warning everyone about your family,” Nico says. “But it’s not okay. It’s totally invasive.”
My knee knocks his knee. Our shoulders touch. I stay there because I need the solid and steady feel of him next to me to keep me from shaking. The video has over three hundred comments. Nico clicks onto the next empty box and starts typing:
You can’t put the blame on someone who didn’t even know she was sick. And shaming them won’t lead to genuine dialogue. These people aren’t murderers. All they wanted to do was go to the pumpkin patch. I’m ashamed of my hometown right now. This is a bad look, Playa Bon—
I stop him from typing by placing my hand on top of his.
“Thank you,” I say. “But you don’t have to get involved. It’s not okay to drag you into this.”
“Don’t care.” He finishes typing, presses enter, and the comment posts. Someone responds immediately:
Screw you pussy.
“Dumb shit forgot the comma,” Nico says.
I shut the laptop cover. “I don’t want to see any more.”
His gaze on me softens. “They’re wrong, Juniper. You know that, right?”
“No. I kind of agree with them. A baby died because of me.”
He shakes his head. “You need to stop saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Okay, technically, yes. She got the measles from you. But it wasn’t like you set out to do it.” A muscle in his jaw twitches. “And don’t be mad at me for saying this, but if anyone’s really responsible, it’s your parents.”
“You’re not entirely wrong. It’s their fault and mine.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So have you told them that?”
“I’ve told them a lot of things.” I shrug. “Like that I want to be vaccinated and go to regular school. And when they disagree, I tell them they’re elitist and ridiculous.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d be grounded for life if I said something like that to either of my parents.”
I sit up straight and talk in a deep voice, imitating my dad. “Yes, well, being outspoken is part of the Jade Family way.” I laugh sarcastically. “We shouldn’t be afraid to say what we think simply because we’re kids. We’re not censored. We’re encouraged to argue our point of view.” I sigh. “That’s the theory, at least. But my parents are hypocrites, because they refuse to hear me.”
“So what are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to fight them on it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. So far everyone has told me it’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“I guess we’ll see.”
I stand up because I can’t sit still any longer. My eyes dart to the exit.
Nico scoots his chair back. “Wait. Maybe I can leave early. The computer lab doesn’t exactly get swamped on Halloween. Do you want to get out of here?”
“I really do. Can you take me someplace far away?” I stare dreamily at the ceiling. “Can we go to the moon?”
He bumps my shoulder with his. “How about a movie? A bunch of the film club members are meeting up at Playa Cinema because they’re screening all the Halloween films today.”
“As much as I’d love to disappear inside a movie theater, I promised my brother I’d get him a pumpkin. And I know Poppy would like one, too.” I motion to the computer screen. “But you’re right. The pumpkin patch isn’t a good idea.”
“Um, have you seen our display? The library has more pumpkins than we can handle. I can get you some.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”