|
|
|
|
|
|
|
end of the streetthe only lights shining on the block. Until, inside a doorway as they passed, a match flared. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chris started. He stopped humming, amazed that he hadn't seen anyone lounging against the building. Now that he looked, he could distinguish three teenage boys leaning against the wall, smoking and watching them. Dressed in jean jackets and baseball caps, all three looked like everyday teens. In the darkness their features were indistinct, but even so Chris did not like the way the three were staring at them. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He reminded himself that this was Lakeviewa city where the citizens did not fear walking the streets. He had never been afraid in Lakeview before; he did not need to be afraid now. Anyway, his parents were with him. Nothing bad could happen if they were all together. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Chris." His father's voice beckoned, and Chris took the few steps backward until he stood at his parents' side. Brian grasped his hand in strong fingers, and they walked on, passing the young men. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chris felt rather than saw the three boys fall into step behind them. He focused on the lights of the pizza parlor ahead and held his breath. They would be inside soonsafe, warm, happy once more. He had nothing to be frightened about. Today was his birthday, his best birthday ever. Tomorrow he would tell his friends about the three hoodlums, and everyone would laugh. Maybe he'd even make up a story about the incident, where he was the hero, of course. He liked making up stories. His teacher said he was very imaginative. |
|
|
|
|
|