The tang of goat’s milk in the chowder seemed sweet to them. Remember had also made a batch of soft biscuits, which came steaming from an oven that Eric had missed before. Now they dunked the fresh biscuits in the chowder. As they ate, Eric blinked off memories of Sarah and the soup she had made for them. In his mind, her bones still smoked on the mountain. He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably.
They had fresh blueberry jam over hot biscuits for dessert. While they ate, Remember showed Birdie how to put the movie in the VHS player. The machine clicked and whirred when Birdie pushed the play button. When the television screen flickered, rolled, and then came to life, Birdie let out a cry of pleasure. Eric thought of Brad, how he had loved movies, how he would loved this, but he too was gone, his body burnt to ashes on the shore of Mosquito Creek Lake. Eric swallowed. The golden light from the television flickered over them.
Eric had seen the movie before. Glenn had gone to the movies with him to see it. It was the first time they met after school and Eric had been nervous. At the time, he had no friends. Everyone avoided Daffy Fuck as if obesity was a plague. Glenn was a tall, rigid boy with a great, wide mouth. His brown hair was festooned with cow licks. Whenever he spoke, his teeth seemed to strain against the several pounds of braces that bound them. He spoke rarely and when he did, he usually followed what he said with a barking laugh. They called him Chewbacca because of how often he impersonated the character, bending his neck back and letting out a cry with uncanny precision. Glenn thought the name was a compliment. It wasn’t. He was avoided also, but he hardly noticed. The outside world didn’t seem to quite penetrate Glenn’s world. He was always smiling, always ready with a joke. Eric never saw him ashamed or humiliated. He was so nervous before the meeting at the movies, he couldn’t eat the whole day before. His stomach was knotted painfully, and the night before, he had prayed that he would not do or say anything to make Glenn dislike him. His mother had seen this and held him close. “You worry too much,” she said. “Anyone that gets to know you will see what a great person you are, Eric.” She kissed him. “You’ll see.”
Now, as Birdie and Lucia and Sergio laughed, Eric remembered Glenn’s booming laughter in the theater, how it had scared him at first, but then, little by little, he had joined in, and it was as simple as that. Glenn was his first friend. Now, Glenn was. Now Glenn was. What was Glenn? What had happened to him? It was worse somehow, not knowing, worse than the memory of Jessica, shot in the street.
Maybe he was alive. Maybe, like him, he had hid away from the Vaca B. Why hadn’t he searched for him? Why hadn’t he gone to his house? Fear. Cowardice.
When the movie finally ended, Eric was relieved. The others were laughing and smiling, and Remember looked as proud as if he himself had made the movie. Birdie was the most excited. She sat facing them, telling them what she had seen as if they had not been watching it too.
“And he had springs in his jacket!” Birdie recounted with a bright laugh. “It was so funny!” She talked excitedly at them all, but especially Eric. “That was the best movie!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “The best one ever!”
Eric nodded his head, smiling, but felt no pleasure.
Finally, when they all settled on the floor with their sleeping bags and Remember had shut down the generator, when there was only the quiet sounds of sleep around him, Eric searched in his backpack. He found the book he had taken from Charlie’s house. The pages were warped and stained from the hike, and the book was bent and discolored. Eric flipped past the introduction to the first chapter.
“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life,” Eric read, “or whether that station will be held by anyone else, these pages must show.”
He had read this sentence a hundred times, but little else. He had a hard time getting past this thought.
Eric woke suddenly to the sound of birds at the window. He had seen them in his dreams, multi-colored birds, flapping at the window, beating their wings against the glass to get inside. His mouth seemed full of feathers. Then he focused and blinked and sat up in the darkness of the shack, and realized it was only a dream. There were no birds at the window. But the sound of their wings remained.
Eric looked about him in the gloaming light of the first dawn, and saw, faintly, a crouching figure in the darkness. He knew it was not any of them, he had been with Lucia and Sergio and Birdie so long, he would recognize their figures anywhere. It was a malignant, crooked figure, like some troll. Eric’s heart shrieked when he realized it was going through their backpacks with the quiet agility of a thief.
“Hey!” Eric cried, springing to his feet. His voice pierced the silence like a knife. “Get away from that!”
The figure leapt away guiltily. Eric stepped forward, his heart filled with rage. “Get away from there!” he shouted.
The others had woken now, and someone flicked on an electric light. The darkness ripped apart. The figure stood revealed in front of Eric. It was Remember, and he looked terrified.
“What’re you doing?” shouted Eric. “What’re you doing in our bags?”
“Calm down,” the old man said, trying to smile. “I was looking for some aspirin is all,” he said. “My teeth hurt something awful.”
“What’re you doing in our stuff?” Eric cried again, as if the old man hadn’t said anything.
“I told you,” Remember said. “Just calm down, son, I didn’t want to wake none of you.”
“You’re a thief!” Eric yelled.
“Eric,” Lucia said. She stepped to his side and put a hand on his arm, but Eric slapped it away without looking at her. His eyes flashed at Remember.
“You’re a thief,” he hissed. “You’re a goddamn thief!” Remember swallowed and looked at Lucia and Sergio as if for help. This enraged Eric more. “You think we’re stupid? You think we’re going to come in here and let you steal everything we have?” Eric moved toward him and Remember stepped back, stumbling over a pile of VHS tapes. The sight made Birdie begin to cry. “What would you have done if you found something you wanted?” Eric stepped toward him again. “Then what, huh? Knife us in our sleep?”
“I swear,” Remember said, holding up his hands. “I swear to you, I just wanted some aspirin.” He smiled a broken smile at them. “It’s my teeth,” he explained. “They give me all sorts of pain.”
“Is that right?” Eric asked, his voice a hiss. “Why not ask us before you went to bed?”
“Didn’t hurt then,” Remember said weakly.
“Eric, calm down,” Lucia said, but she didn’t approach him this time. “Just calm down.”
Eric ignored her, his whole body trembling with fury. “You think we need this shit?” he cried. “You think you can lure us in here with your goddamn television and movies and steal from us?”
Remember shook his head. His shining eyes were wide.
Eric stalked to the kitchen and picked up a huge, iron pan. “You think we’re going to be fooled?” he cried.
“Stop it, Eric!” Lucia yelled.
Eric hurled the pan into the TV. There was a burst of bright light and a horrible sucking sound. Then the room was sprayed with foul smelling glass. The television was a smoking ruin, a dark mouth filled with shards of teeth.
Remember howled with pain. He stumbled to the television and then rested his forehead on it like it was a dead thing. “What’d you do that for?” he moaned. “Look at what you done!” He began weeping miserably. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you take that from me? It’s all I got! Why’d you do that?” Remember sobbed then, holding his arms around his head.