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“Hmmm?” She looked around at Emma, at first not even sure where they were. Then she saw she<br />
was holding a basketball. Okay, the backyard. They were playing HORSE.<br />
“I asked if you wanted to play Scrabble with me and my mom, because this is totally boring.”<br />
“You’re winning, right?”<br />
“Duh! All three games. Are you here at all?”<br />
“Sorry, I’m just worried about my momo. Scrabble sounds good.” It sounded great, in fact. Emma<br />
and her mom were the slowest Scrabble players in the known universe, and would have shit large<br />
bricks if anyone had suggested playing with a timer. This would give Abra plenty of opportunity to<br />
continue minimizing her presence here. Barry was sick but he wasn’t dead, and if he got wise to the<br />
fact that Abra was performing a kind of telepathic ventriloquism, the results could be very bad. He<br />
might figure out where she really was.<br />
Not much longer. Pretty soon they’ll all come together. God, please let it go okay.<br />
While Emma cleared the crap off the table in the downstairs rec room and Mrs. Deane set up the<br />
board, Abra excused herself to use the toilet. She did need to go, but first she made a quick detour<br />
into the living room and peeked out the bow window. Billy’s truck was parked across the street. He<br />
saw the curtains twitch and flashed her a thumbs-up. Abra returned the gesture. Then the small part<br />
of her that was here went to the bathroom while the rest of her sat in the cab of The Helen Rivington.<br />
We’ll eat our picnic, pick up our trash, watch the sunset, and then we’ll go back.<br />
(eat our picnic, pick up our trash, watch the sunset, and then)<br />
Something unpleasant and unexpected broke into her thoughts, and hard enough to snap her head<br />
back. A man and two women. The man had an eagle on his back, and both women had tramp stamps.<br />
Abra could see the tattoos because they were having naked sex beside a pool while stupid old disco<br />
music played. The women were letting out a lot of fake moans. What in hell had she stumbled across?<br />
The shock of what those people were doing destroyed her delicate balancing act, and for a moment<br />
Abra was all in one place, all here. Cautiously, she looked again, and saw the people by the pool were<br />
all blurry. Not real. Almost ghostie people. And why? Because Barry was almost a ghostie person<br />
himself and had no interest in watching people have sex by the—<br />
Those people aren’t by a pool, they’re on TV.<br />
Did Barry the Chink know she was watching him watch some porno TV show? Him and the<br />
others? Abra wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think so. They had taken the possibility into account, though.<br />
Oh, yes. If she was there, they were trying to shock her into going away, or into revealing herself, or<br />
both.<br />
“Abra?” Emma called. “We’re ready to play!”<br />
We’re playing already, and it’s a much bigger game than Scrabble.<br />
She had to get her balance back, and quickly. Never mind the porno TV with the crappy disco<br />
music. She was in the little train. She was driving the little train. It was her special treat. She was<br />
having fun.<br />
We’re going to eat, we’re going to pick up our trash, we’re going to watch the sunset, and then we’re going to<br />
go back. I’m afraid of the woman in the hat but not too afraid, because I’m not home, I’m going to Cloud Gap<br />
with my dad.<br />
“Abra! Did you fall in?”<br />
“Coming!” she called. “Just want to wash my hands!”<br />
I’m with my dad. I’m with my dad, and that’s all.<br />
Looking at herself in the mirror, Abra whispered, “Hold that thought.”<br />
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