Terminal Island by Walter Greatshell Page B

There are millions of Americans who fit that profile.”
    “Yeah, unfortunately your mother isn’t one of them.”
    “No, but she would be a special category: easy pickings. Her identity represents a monthly check from the government and a clean credit record—that’s worth a fortune nowadays. And anyone looking into her life would find that she has essentially no other connections to the world.”
    “Except for us.”
    “Considering how little contact we have with my mother, I don’t think they would expect us to put a lot of effort into finding her if she were to drop out of sight. That deputy really made me conscious of that. All they’d have to do is set up a phony address, get a copy of her signature, and they’d be in business.”
    “I think there’s a little more to it than that.”
    “Maybe so, but think of what you could do if you had the resources of a whole town at your disposal. I mean banks, police, mail—everything. You could kill and impersonate anybody, make all kinds of phony verification and just absorb their assets.”
    “Oh boy...”
    “I’m serious! You could do anything you wanted with them because they wouldn’t exist except on paper. They’d be ghosts—golden ghosts. And that’s exactly what I can’t stop thinking about: the idea that this island is a haunted gold mine.”
    Ruby puts down her camera.
    “Honey,” she says, “you’re nuts.”
      
    * * *

    On Monday, Miss Graves made an announcement:
    “Now, last week, because it was the first week of school, I let you all use your playground time as you saw fit so you could get to know each other, but starting today it’s going to be a major part of your grade. That means I expect you all to form teams and engage in some kind of sports activity. I’ll be monitoring you, so no dawdling around.”
    Gee, what a surprise , Henry thought. Why should things ever be simple?
    As he expected, no one asked him to join their team. Hardly anyone had spoken to him the previous week, nor he to them, so he hadn’t developed any friendships. He didn’t think it was a deliberate snub; most of the students had known each other all their lives, and fell into their usual groupings out of habit. An outsider by nature and circumstance, Henry didn’t blame them—he had no interest in forcing himself on anyone. How could adults expect kids to do such things? It was something that happened gradually. So he hung around the sidelines, not really troubling much about it.
    What made it easier was that he was not entirely alone. There were two other boys loitering outside the action, literally straddling the fence—the wooden perimeter fence surrounding the playground. They sat on it every recess, as if in contempt of the silly games being played below. One was the fat boy Henry had briefly spoken to the first day, the other a frail-looking blond kid. Henry had noticed them immediately—they had their own little clique of two, and were obviously outcasts from the larger school society. Misfits like himself. He liked that it didn’t seem to bother them, and slowly gravitated in their direction.
    “…what a fuckin’ joke,” he overheard the bigger kid saying. “I swear, if Lisa says one more thing to me, I’m gonna cut her heart out and make her look at it while she dies. She thinks she’s such hot shit. She won’t think she’s so boss after I cut her tits off.”
    “That’s so righteous,” the other sniggered.
    “I’m serious, I don’t need her bullshit—” The kid noticed Henry and nudged his friend.
    Henry took the opening: “Hey,” he said.
    “What’s happening?” the big one said disinterestedly.
    “Nothing much. Listen, I was just wondering how this whole P.E. thing works—I mean, how do they expect us to join in once the teams are all picked?”
    “Ex act ly,” the large boy said, dripping sarcasm.
    “Well, what are you guys gonna do?”
    “We’re doing it. Fuck them.”
    This was exactly the kind of thing Henry