At the Edge of the Haight by Katherine Seligman

Author:Katherine Seligman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

chapter 16

I was lying on the dirt where we’d all passed out when I felt a slap on the bottom of my foot. A cop shined a long metal flashlight into my eyes and I reached for my shoes. Ash had forgotten to set the clock.

“Move on. No camping. You have ten seconds to get going.”

He began counting out loud. “One. Two.” He smacked Ash’s foot with the back of his hand. “Three.” He moved on to Fleet and Hope. We hadn’t bothered to get into sleeping bags so we stood and staggered away from the trees. “Four. Five.” Hope started saying that we were hanging out, not camping, it was a public park and we had a right to be there, but Ash grabbed for her arm and she stopped. There was no point bullshitting him, except to wait for Fleet, who was still curled on her side, “Six,” he yelled. Tiny cuddled in her arm. The cop poked the bottom of her foot again, but she didn’t budge. “Seven!”

“Better tell your friend to get up.” The cop rested his hands on his belt, near where his gun was holstered tight to his body. “Her ten seconds is almost over.”

I knelt down in the leaves next to Fleet and shook her shoulder, but she didn’t move so I touched her cheek, halfway between a pat and a slap. Her face was warm. I waited for her to tell me to get off her, give her a second, and I would say she couldn’t have that because the cop was about to cite us. Tiny backed up and hunched himself into a ball.

“Ash, help me get her up,” I said.

“You kids got dogs, now you got rats,” said the cop. His knees cracked as he bent down toward Fleet. He put his knuckles on her shoulder and pressed, like he was knocking.

“She’s really out,” he said, and reached for his radio. “10-52, east end.”

He aimed the flashlight at Fleet’s face and felt for her pulse. Tiny stayed on her arm, until the cop smacked him with the flashlight and he scrambled into the leaves. He dragged his right side where the cop had hit him. I tried to grab him, but he skittered away and it was too dark to see where he’d gone. I was still trying to make out where he was when an ambulance drove up on the grass, a spotlight aimed at Fleet. Two men, one carrying a small suitcase, ran to her. He took out a stethoscope, rolled her onto her back and cocked his head while he listened to her chest. He pried open one of her eyes with his fingers.

“She’s breathing, but it’s shallow,” he said. Then he turned to the three of us. “What did she ingest?”

“Nothing,” said Ash.

“Nothing isn’t going to put her out like this,” he said. “If you care about your friend, and I don’t know the answer to that, you’ll tell us what she’s on.”

“She’s not like that,” I said, loud.

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