9
L O S T B O Y
weeping willow tree and listen to the rushing water and think
about what I’ve done.
Only two hours ago, I lay by this same river with Celeste
in my arms. Now it’s possible that I’ll never see her again.
It’s midafternoon, according to where the sun is. The
truck driver thought I should talk to kids my age and figure
out where to stay, but I know there’s not a chance they’ll
talk to me. Surely he knew that. I’m a polyg, and gentiles
are not known for being nice to polygs. My only hope is to
contact Jimmy.
I reach into my pocket to feel that the money is still
there. My throat is parched, and I’m hungry. Food and water
would be so good right now. They wouldn’t cost much either.
But if I can’t get in touch with Jimmy, I may really need the
money later.
Jimmy is my only connection outside of Unity. He was
the one who talked me into leaving. He convinced me that
I had a choice, that I didn’t need to live the way my family
does. For a long time I resisted, but more and more I’ve also
begun to question the Prophet. Some of his teachings just
don’t make sense.
The sun’s glare is intense. I close my eyes. When I open
them again, the sun has moved much farther to the west.
I must have fallen asleep. Nearby, a guy is squatting beside
the river. He’s wearing shorts. His torso is bare, and his shirt
hangs from his back pocket. His skin is light brown. He stays
crouched for five, ten minutes, hardly moving, creating some-
thing with the river rocks. Finally he stands and stretches.
