Signal Read Online Free PDF Page A

sweatshirt, blanket, soap, towel, toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, more water, and—whether you want them or not—bandages and first-aid cream.”
    Cam smiles but continues to eye the pack hungrily. I grin. On purpose, I’ve saved the food for last. I call out: “Mountain Dew, Oreos, chips, crackers and cheese, bananas, an apple, granola bars, and four cans of tuna. I even remembered a fork.
And
ta-da!” With a dramatic flourish, I take out the Tootsie Rolls and hold them up.
    Cam gasps, grabs the bag from my hand, rips it open, unwraps a Tootsie Roll, and stuffs it into her mouth. As she eats it, she unwraps another one.
    I laugh and say, “So, on your planet people eat dessert before dinner?”
    She gives me a gooey brown smile and says, “You betcha. I just love these things. When I go back home, I’m taking as many as I can with me.”
    I laugh again.
    She offers me the bag. It’s hard to talk when you have a mouth full of Tootsie Roll, so it’s quiet for a while except for the sounds of our chewing. Then Cam turns to the food on the table.
    Spread out like that, it doesn’t exactly make up what Mr. Lauer, my old health teacher, would call a balanced meal. But fruit’s good, right? And tuna has protein. I didn’t think to bring mayonnaise or bread so she could make a sandwich, and I say so.
    “Tuna’s better straight out of the can, anyway,” she says. She pulls the tab on one of the tins, digs the fork in, and eats ravenously, not looking up until it’s gone.
    “Here you go, Josie,” she says, putting the empty tin on the floor. Quickly, Cam eats the rest of the tuna. We watch Josie, laughing as she pushes the cans across the floor and into the corner, where she licks them like crazy to get every last molecule of flavor out.
    Cam washes down a granola bar with a can of soda, then settles into a kitchen chair with the apple and a contented sigh.
    I figure the time has come. “Cam,” I say, “we’ve got to talk.”
    “Okay. What about?”
    “If I’m going to help you, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.”
    She nods again.
    “For starters, if you’re from another planet, how come there was a guy asking about you at the corner store?”
    Cam’s head snaps up, and her green eyes flash with alarm. “Who was he?” she asks.
    “You tell me.”
    “What did he look like?”
    “Like a bald-headed pit bull with a big, fat neck.”
    She rises to her feet, her face paling beneath its tan. “Did you see what kind of car he was driving?”
    “Rusty old junker, all patched together with Bondo. Oh, and he had a key ring with a skull and—”
    “Red eyes.” She covers her face with her hands and says,
“Ray.”
    In this single word I hear dismay, hatred, and fear.
    She uncovers her face. “Was he alone?”
    “There was a lady out in the car.”
    “Blond hair?”
    I nod.
    “Could they have followed you?”
    “No,” I quickly assure her. “I don’t think the lady saw me, and anyway, they left before I did. The guy was asking Mr. Powers, the old man who owns the store, if he’d seen a kid—and, well, he described you.” I hesitate, then add, “He said your head might have been hurt, and that you could be acting funny, saying crazy things.”
    As I say this I’m thinking,
Like saying you’re from another planet
.
    Cam snorts and says bitterly, “Yeah, he’s afraid I’ll say crazy things like he hit me.”
    Abruptly, she looks away from me, and I see that she is struggling not to cry.
    “Cam,” I say. “This guy Ray, who is he?”
    Cam sinks back into her chair. “You really want to hear all this?”
    “Well. Yeah. I feel totally clueless here.”
    She waits a few moments before saying, “You remember how I told you my parents’ spaceship had to make an emergency exit, right?”
    I nod.
    “They didn’t know I wasn’t on the ship and after I saw them leave, I ran from the soldiers and hid. I waited for a long time, hoping my parents would come back for me, even though I knew