Issue Three

JAMES MORRIS
“If they were chasing you, why didn’t
you stop for the police?”
“I wasn’t thinking that far ahead. I just
wanted to get away.”
“Why were you running in your birthday
suit?” The Officer snickered. “Or did
they eat your clothes?”
“Wish I knew.” He felt extremely
embarrassed. Puberty was a minefield
of confusion, drop-of-a-hat erections,
and strange mating rituals to
comprehend, but to share his privates in
front of God and everyone? It was
almost criminal.
“Any reason why you don’t have any
fingerprints?”
“I don’t?”
“And if I remember my eighth-grade
biology, that ain’t right.”
“What’s gonna to happen to me?”
The Officer softened. “Honestly, kid. I
don’t know.”
An hour later, the Officer came back
with an older man who had come
looking for the boy. From the head up,
he was distinguished; long hair with a
stripe of grey down the middle. But from
the head down, he looked the part of a
rushed shopper at the Salvation Army
with clothes out-dated by a couple of
decades. The Officer opened the
cell. “Eh, kid. You’re free to go.”
“Thank you for your gratitude,” the older
man said as he tipped his hat.
“Kids these days, huh?” And the Officer
left them alone.
The older man knelt by the boy, meeting
his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kevin. This wasn’t
how the night was supposed to be. I
promise to make it up to you.”
“Kevin? My name is Kevin?”
“There’s a lot to explain. I meant to
prepare you better for your initiation. I
should have given you this
before. Here.”
And the man slipped Kevin a piece of
paper. Kevin looked it over,
confused. “It’s just an address.”
“It’s a safe house where we meet. Keep
it from now on. You’ll need it.” And the