Edward Adrift

fun?” I ask.
    Kyle leans across the bed and puts his hands on my head, which startles me a little bit, and then he musses my hair.
    “Of course I’m having fun, douche.” It’s the first time he has called me a name and not meant it in a bad way.
    I reach out and muss his hair back. “You’re the douche.”
    “No, you are,” he says.
    “No, you are,” I say.
    “No, you are,” he says again.
    I lunge for Kyle, pretending that I’m a champion wrestler, and I knock him onto his back on the bed. I then lie gently across himand try to bundle his legs with my free arm. I’m going to count him out.
    Kyle tries to throw me off. “What are you doing?” His voice is high. I lean into him so I can pin him.
    “GET OFF!” he screams. “GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”
    I let him go and I push myself off the bed and I run to the other side of the room. Kyle is screaming and crying and, oh God, maybe I hurt him. I clap my hands over my ears and I say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” and Kyle makes himself into a ball on the bed and he cries.
    I hurt him. I hurt him really bad.

    Twenty-three minutes go by. Twenty-three minutes of Kyle crying, a little less, and then a little less, and twenty-three minutes of me apologizing a little more, and then a little more.
    When Kyle finally tells me what happened, after he makes me swear that I will not tell anyone, I am sick to my stomach.
    I didn’t hurt Kyle. Some big kids at his school did. They trapped him in the locker room, just him and the three of them, and they pinned him down, and they did bad things to him.
    I have to get him home. I promised I would not tell anyone what he told me, but there are 267.5 miles between here and Cheyenne, the capital of Wyoming, that I can drive this morning, and during that time I can talk to him and convince him that he must tell his mother. We can get to Cheyenne and I can call Donna Middleton (now Hays) and tell her that we have to meet somewhere so she can have her boy back and they can figure out what to do.
    It’s 3:47 a.m. when I leave the handwritten note on the front desk for Sheila Renfro.
    Sheila Renfro:
    Something has come up, and we had to leave early. If there are any other charges, please add them to my bill. I’m sorry I won’t be able to help you paint.
    Thank you for mending my pants and for the taco soup and the Jell-O brand gelatin. Good luck with your motel. We enjoyed our stay.
    With regards,
    Edward Stanton
    I leave the note and the room key, and then I go outside to the car, where Kyle is waiting for me.
    It’s dark and cold, and nobody is moving in Cheyenne Wells except for us. The Cadillac DTS skids in the deep snow as we turn onto Highway 40, headed west.
    “I’m sorry, Edward,” Kyle says.
    “You never have to apologize to me,” I say. “You’re my best friend.”

OFFICIALLY FRIDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2011
    From the logbook of Edward Stanton, as recorded by Kyle Middleton:
    Time Edward woke up today: Dont know. He was awake when I had that bad dream. He said it was 3:03. I guess 3:02.
    High temperature for Thursday, December 15, 2011, Day 349: Dont know. Its weird that hes keeping temps in Billings while hes not there.
    Low temperature for Thursday, December 15, 2011: Dont know.
    Precipitation for Thursday, December 15, 2011: Dont know.
    Precipitation for 2011: Dont know.
    New entries:
    Exercise for Thursday, December 15, 2011: Dont know. We saw that oil pump and stuff. He helped that lady at the motel I guess.
    Miles driven Thursday, December 15, 2011: Dont know. We drove to the oil pump. That was like 20 miles or whatever. We tried to drive to Wyoming but hit the snowplow and Edward got hurt. That was like 50 miles or whatever. 70 I guess. Who cares.
    Total miles driven: Who cares.
    Gas usage Thursday, December 15, 2011: Who cares.
    Addendum: I dont know what would have happened if that lady from the motel hadnt shown up. I told Edward he was going to fast in the snow but he was in a hurry and we hit the snowplow and he got hurt real bad. He couldnt talk and he didnt have any breath. The guy in the snowplow called an ambulance and while we waited Edward kept trying to talk and he couldnt breath and I was real scared and that lady from the motel drove up behind us just as the helicopter arrived.
    Edward flew to Denver in the helicopter. I wanted to go but the lady took me here in her truck. Hes still in the operating room. Shes sitting here with me. She doesnt talk very much but Id be alone