“Let’s start looking.”
“For what?’

“Anything,” I eyed a discarded straw and gunned for it like she may have seen it too. 

I picked up the straw and examined it close to my face while she watched. I didn’t make eye contact and she took the hint and began to scrounge the ground for objects she can use.
“Are we building something, Catarina?”

“We are just playing.”

I was already satisfied and staring at the gas station,towards home, ready to go already. I had what I came for, a trinket to pass the time, an object to spin in my fingers and pretend were long locks. I was doing it again, spinning. Spinning, I looked up catching a glimpse of Adelmira’s hair. I would kill for her hair.
“Cat,” she said.
My brother called me Lion sometimes. I didn’t tell her that.
“What about this?”
She held up a shiny pocket knife.
I skipped over.
“Where’d you get that?”

“Right here, on the side, underneath a stryofoam cup.”
“What if someone comes  back for it? A guy once ran through my yard running from the police. It was scary.”

She ignored me.
“I don’t think they will miss it.”
“What if it was used in a murder?”

She cocked her head and gave me the look. The look 

I practiced and saw so much: the that is very unrealistic Ava look.
“Well,” my interest suddenly peaked. “What are we gonna do with it?”

And before she could answer I hopped up and down and spun around clutching the filthy straw in my fingers and almost singing, “I have an idea! I have an idea! I have an idea!”
Then I ran right up to her face, so close I could feel her breath smelled like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, and placed my hand gently on top of hers, on top of the knife, looking her in the eye.
“I know the perfect sacrifice for our magic ghost spell.”
I was so close I could feel her swallow without touching me.
“Do you trust me?”
We stared at each other and she let a little grin spread across her face. I could see the yellow of her teeth, the snaggle tooth, the remnants of her cereal. It didn’t bother me.
“Follow me,” and I grabbed her by the wrist and led her back towards the ditch.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: