The Fort (Aric Davis)

in a green car. You know what that means.”
    “I do,” said Van Endel. “I know all about that. What did she look like?”
    “A little like the girl in your picture, only not as pretty.” She laughed. “The streets are rough, you know? She was short, way shorter than me—”
    “About five three, dark hair, one hundred twenty pounds or so?”
    Bambi shrugged. “That’s Shelly, but that’s a lot of girls. Why, though? You find her? Did someone hurt her? Did he hurt her?”
    Van Endel shook his head. “We haven’t found Shelly, no. Or at least she better hope we haven’t.”
    “One last question,” said Dr. Martinez to Bambi. “Sorry if it seems like an odd one. Do you know if Shelly keeps condoms on her, or does she go bareback?”
    “No one sane goes bareback,” said Bambi flatly. She spared a look to the man on the ground. It wasn’t kind, but he didn’t see it. “You have to be careful. It’s not the 1970s, now that AIDS is around everywhere. Shelly keeps rubbers in a little black wallet in her back pocket, like, all the time. She gets the big ones, with foil. Johns like that. I’ve got mine right here in my purse, the same kind.” She smiled sadly. “These are gold-foil wrapped, supposed to be for big dicks. Far as I can tell, they fit little dicks the same way.”

45
    Tim sat in the driveway, watching the fireworks with his mom, dad, and Becca. They could see the ones from the high school and the ball field well enough, and the alternating blasts of the two were a nice reminder that even with everything else going on, some things could still be normal. Despite his raging issues with them, Tim was happy to see his parents sitting together closely and with clasped hands. After all, it was far better than the alternative.
    There was nothing too exciting about being outside under the stars and the explosions, but it had been such an odd week that to have something happening that felt so normal was almost a treat. He and Becca had had a brief interval of privacy when their parents were both outside looking at the hole where the patio was to be laid, but she hadn’t mentioned the phone call from earlier again. In fact, she’d acted as though he wasn’t in the room with her. Tim had the feeling that Becca really just wanted the whole thing to go away, that maybe for her Molly’s being gone was just how things were now. He didn’t like thinking that of his sister. Her coldness had always felt to him like more of a symptom of being a teenager than like an actual part of her personality, but now he wasn’t so sure.
    Becca should have wanted to know what else they’d discovered. She should have wondered about how he and his friends were still talking while under house arrest. She didn’t appear to care, though, and Tim was pretty sure that all she really gave a crap about was her life being normal again, as if that were even possible. Everything was spiraling further and further out of control, or at least that was how it felt to Tim, and as much as he wanted to just have everything go back to normal, he knew that looking for a green Dodge Dart was far more important. He couldn’t wait for the fireworks to stop so that they could all go to bed and he could see his friends again.
    Finally, the explosions from the professional barrages reached a crescendo, first at the ball field, and then at the school. Smaller, private fireworks were still being launched, of course, but Tim knew what the big ones’ being done really meant. Sure enough, his dad said, “All right, gang, let’s head on in. Show’s over.” Tim hid the smile on his face. He couldn’t wait to be free again, a ghost with only one purpose, loose in the night.
    Tim went through the motions of brushing his teeth and washing his face, then walked to his bedroom. When he walked in, he was startled to see his dad waiting on him. “Is everything OK?” Tim asked, utterly sure that his dad had somehow discovered his nocturnal missions.
    “Everything’s fine,” said Stan, waving a hand to Tim’s bed. Tim sat where he’d been directed, and his dad did too. “I need to ask you something,” said Stan. “I’d like to think I can expect you to tell me the truth, but if you don’t, it’s going to be on you, OK?”
    “All right,” said Tim. “I’m not going to lie to you.”
    Stan sighed and ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “Were you telling that cop the truth?”
    “Yes,” said Tim. “We told him the truth