The Missing Read Online Free PDF Page A

condom wrapper at the boys sitting be- hind her. She’d probably found it in the woods, though Lois doubted she understood its use.
    “Thath garbage,” she said to Caroline, taking it out of her hand. Then she held it up for the class to see. “Don’t touch garbage, boyth and girlth, you never know where it’s been.” This reminded her of Ronnie. Was he with Noreen right now? Were they working on a family at this very moment? And what about her own period, six weeks late?
    She headed for the front of the bus and looked out the window. No red Camaro in sight. There would not be a red Camaro. These people, her friends, they’d be- trayed her. They hadn’t even called to say: Uh, look, Lois, you’ll hear about this anyway, but we went and did something nutty. And there was one simple expla- nation: She’d effed up. She’d surrounded herself with the wrong people, because Ronnie, Noreen, and even her mother were no good.
    Worst of all, she knew she was better off without them, but in the end that didn’t matter. After school today, she’d stop by Ronnie’s house and beg him to take her back, but he’d never do it because Noreen was too damn scary to cross. After a month or so of a broken heart, she’d swallow it all down and stop by the Dew Drop Inn, where Noreen would say something mean, and Ronnie would smile like a milksop, and she’d pre- tend like nothing was wrong. She’d forgive them even though they hadn’t asked for it, because being their friend was better than watching Regis Philbin with her drunk mother. She’d eat shit like always, because she was Lois Larkin, and she didn’t have any goddamn sense.
    “Drive,” Lois said, while Janice Fischer slathered her daughter’s condom-tainted hands with gobs of green
    antibacterial gel. They pulled away from the woods, and Lois started crying all over again.
    It was only after they got back to school that she real- ized that the lump in the seat across from her was not a little boy, but a book bag and jacket. James Walker was missing.

    T W O ‌
    The Monster in the Wood s

    T

    he ground under James Walker’s feet went crunch, crunch, crunch, like the bamboo xylophone from music appreciation. There were leaves and sticks and rocks, all dried up and hollow. Overhead, leafless branches poked the bright blue sky. He jumped up and down, and listened to things break. It was dead as a rab-
    bit in here!
    Instead of boarding the bus when Miss Lois called, he’d pretended his big brother, Danny, was chasing him. He ran until he was panting and sweaty and couldn’t see his way out. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wander off, but he hated Miss Lois. When she said his name her upper lip curled like somebody was trying to feed her yellow snow. He figured if he ran away to- day, maybe his dad would get mad enough to have her fired.
    It wasn’t Miss Lois’s fault he was a left-back, though. First his mother started him a year late for kindergar- ten because he was small for his age, and then Mr. Crozzier flunked him, and wrote in his Permanent Re- cord that he was “emotionally and mentally stunted.” That’s why he was the only eleven-year-old in the fourth grade. Once a month during recess he had to meet with
    a social worker and talk about his feelings. He didn’t usually have any, so mostly they played Iron Man on the Xbox.
    James’s parents wanted him to be more like his big brother, Danny, who got straight A’s and played la- crosse. Danny and Dad shot eighteen holes at the Corpus Christi Golf Club once a month. They wore matching polo shirts and khakis like they were members of Team Jerk America.
    Danny liked to take James’s hands and hit him in the face with them. Why are you hitting yourself, James? Why are you hitting yourself? he’d ask. One time he stuffed James’s mouth and nose with salty yellow snow and even after James cried, “Mercy, Master Daniel,” Danny had held his lips and nose closed tight until he swallowed. When stuff like