CHAPTER 9
Dollie—age six
Ambrose said to leave when the big hand reaches the nine—the one closest to the steering wheel. The big hand slowly creeps past the nine when I turn away and peer through the window.
There’s no sign of him or Chuckles.
They only had to collect balloons. They should be back.
My fingers rub over the pink dog in my hand, and he squeaks. The feel doesn’t comfort me like Duggan and his little yellow tie do.
I push against the door as I pull the lever, but nothing happens. I try harder, slamming my weight against the door.
A loud pop scares me, and I jump back. Then I see the pink dog from my lap, which is now no more than torn whatever material balloons are made from. The image changes behind my tears, becoming blurry.
“No…”
Sadness fills me. Duggan never met my dog, and the need for his comfort overpowers me more than before.
The shaking starts in my hands.
Without my balloon, I feel different here, scared, sad, and alone.
I pull at the handle behind me, trying another door, but that one doesn’t budge, either.
Gulping for breath around pained sobs, I crawl into the front, seeing Chuckles’ window halfway down. He did it when I started coughing on the smoke from his cigarette, and Ambrose started talking about something called cancer that he’d seen in a commercial.
His mind was teasing him about it, as Daddy says.
Still, no sign of him.
The grass outside the window is green and brown, like his eyes. With a struggle, I push my body through the small gap, the glass squeezing on my shoulders and belly before my hands slip from the red metal, and I hit that grass with a thud.
More tears fall, now landing in the dirt like I did, as pain runs down my arm. I cup my elbow, nursing it before I push myself to my feet and brush the dirty patch from my coat. Ambrose won’t like the germs on me—they do something different to his brain, Mommy says.
“Ambrose!” I call, my heart racing.
Still, no sign of him or Chuckles.
“Ambrose!” I try again. My throat hurts from yelling so loudly.
Nothing.
My arm tingles again, and my fingers try to rub it away. I want Mommy and Daddy. I need Duggan.
But I’m all alone.
“Ambrose!”
The open field surrounds me, and my shriek echoes around me as I seek out houses in the distance. Only grass and the odd tree are visible. No houses, no neighbors for me to run to. I stepback toward the road, hoping to find a car with someone brave enough to go into the house to find my brother.
Because suddenly, I’m not brave.
Fear hugs around me, and my skin flushes as rain begins to fall from the rumbling clouds above.
Something whines in the distance, and my breath stalls, expecting thunder. I have nowhere to hide if it thunders.
I spin around to see Chuckles’ little house. He’s there, standing at the side door, waving at me.
