Devil's Race by Avi

Author:Avi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-11-26T16:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

22

It was about six o’clock on a Thursday evening when I got to Lebanon. I was tired, feeling dirty and hungry. When I stepped from the bus there was Ann, waiting. She had dressed up a bit, slacks and all, though she was wearing her running shoes. She looked good.

I was so glad to see her, I just dropped my bag and we hugged each other hard. I was with the one person who knew some of what was locked up in my head. Secrets, I had learned, have weight.

“Want to stop for some coffee or something before we go back?” she asked. “Mom said she’d have dinner waiting.”

“I’d like to talk.”

“There’s a McDonald’s on the way.”

“Fine.”

When we got there, we ordered a couple of shakes, then slipped into one of those back booths with the hard, orange seats.

We looked at each other. “I was worried you might not come,” she said.

I took a deep breath. “So was I. I’m glad to see you,” I said. She smiled. “How much do your parents know?” I asked.

“Nothing, really.”

I felt a trickle of worry. “Martin have any idea?”

“I doubt it. Anyway, he’s going to Scout camp tomorrow.”

“Can you get your parents to go too?”

She grinned, shook her head.

“Why do they think I’ve come?”

“Hot-and-heavy romance.”

“My folks too. Fact they think all the stuff I’ve been doing—sticking around home, not seeing people, stuff like that—is because of you.”

Then we just sat back and looked at each other, feeling good, a deep and easing warmth. Across the table we held hands.

“Have you got any answers yet?” she asked. I shook my head. “Just questions.”

“Like what?”

I hesitated.

“You going to trust me or not?” she asked, giving my hand a squeeze.

“I’m trying. . . .”

“Tell me. . . .”

I looked right at her. Her trust seemed to clear my mind, make it easier to speak. I took another deep breath. “I think . . . John Proud . . . is somehow . . . getting to be part of me. Not really me,” I hastened to say. “But all the same, something in me.”

Ann was watching me closely.

“It’s like . . . he is me, but all the same, he’s not. Doesn’t make much sense, does it? It’s as if he does things, things I might only think of doing. But I don’t know if I’m the one who is thinking them.”

“Who else?”

“Him. Putting thoughts into my head.”

“Breaking things? Stealing?”

I nodded, adding, “Killing Uncle Dave.”

She grimaced, gripping my hand harder.

“A lot of the things that you said were happening around here—well, I thought of them, first. They were in my head, Ann, they were.”

“That’s not you,” she said almost angrily.

“I don’t know anymore. I’m all confused about it.”

She took her hand from mine.

“Tell me,” she again urged. “I’m not going to think badly of you. I won’t. I promise.”

“I wanted Uncle Dave to disappear, Ann. I did. Maybe worse. I thought about stealing things. Thought about getting a lot of money. Or, that night you saw him, I wanted to see you a lot.

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