seventeen. They had changed a lot, just as I had.
Miler was still a small guy, still had the short blond hair and the long face with its sharp, piercing green eyes. But the face seemed darker and more serious now that there was stubble on it. And his runner’s body had filled out, become sturdy and muscular. He was wearing jeans and a corded sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and I could see his shoulders had gotten broader and the muscles of his arms had become big and ropy.
And Rick—he still had that big, round, cheerful face—but there was something new in his large eyes, some kind of—I don’t know—gentleness and understanding that hadn’t been there before. It made him look a lot older. Plus, hard as it was to believe, he was even taller than he had been, and more substantial too. In his jeans and basketball jacket, he looked practically massive.
As for Josh—well, he was a geek forever. He still blinked out from behind his big glasses, still had the pale face and short curly hair and the geeky laugh. But instead of being small and slump-shouldered, he was tall and skinny. And instead of a constant nervous smile, his smile was sort of crooked now and cool—ironic, I guess you’d call it. He looked like he was constantly making fun of himself—and of just about everything else too.
They stood in the middle of the room together, watching me, waiting for me to answer them. I tried to find the right words.
“Well, the thing is— I mean, don’t take this the wrong way. It’s great to see you guys. I can’t tell you how great it is.”
“But?” said Miler.
“But Josh is right. I came to the Ghost Mansion because I didn’t want to get you involved.”
Rick gave a big laugh. He stepped up to me, towering over me, looking down at me from his height. “Hey, Charlie, we understand that. We know you want to keep us out of it. We’re just ignoring you, that’s all.”
“Sure,” said Miler. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, guy. To figure out what you want and then do exactly the opposite.”
I laughed. “That’s great of you, really, but . . . this is serious. I mean, this isn’t, like, a prank or something, like spending the night here without telling our parents. It’s the police that are after me. The real police. I’m a fugitive. They think I’m a killer. If they find out you guys are helping me, you could be accessories or something. You could go to jail.”
Rick nodded. He looked over at Miler. “He’s right. Let’s get out of here.”
Miler gave a quick laugh. None of them moved. They weren’t going anywhere.
“The thing is, Charlie,” Josh said, “we can’t leave. You need us. The police are gonna be looking for you everywhere. Everyone in town is gonna be looking for you. You’re gonna need help, you’re gonna need people who can go out and look around and ask questions without making people suspicious. How else are you gonna find out what really happened to Alex? How else are you gonna prove you’re innocent?”
“That’s crazy,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. Besides, you don’t even know I really am innocent.”
Rick and Miler looked at each other again.
“He’s right,” Miler said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Rick laughed. Then he turned to me. “We know you’re innocent, Charlie.”
Miler nodded. So did Josh.
“We all know it,” Rick said.
“Face it,” said Miler. “You’re just not killer material, old pal.”
“Don’t get us wrong,” Josh added. “You have a lot of other good qualities. I mean, we still like you and everything, even if you’re not a murderer. But you’re not a murderer.”
I turned away and looked out the window again. I had to. I didn’t want them to see my face just then, the emotion in my face. The police said I was guilty. The judge and jury said so. The newspapers, the TV. Even I sometimes wondered whether I was really innocent or not.
But not Rick and Miler and Josh. They knew I was innocent.
Miler was still a small guy, still had the short blond hair and the long face with its sharp, piercing green eyes. But the face seemed darker and more serious now that there was stubble on it. And his runner’s body had filled out, become sturdy and muscular. He was wearing jeans and a corded sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and I could see his shoulders had gotten broader and the muscles of his arms had become big and ropy.
And Rick—he still had that big, round, cheerful face—but there was something new in his large eyes, some kind of—I don’t know—gentleness and understanding that hadn’t been there before. It made him look a lot older. Plus, hard as it was to believe, he was even taller than he had been, and more substantial too. In his jeans and basketball jacket, he looked practically massive.
As for Josh—well, he was a geek forever. He still blinked out from behind his big glasses, still had the pale face and short curly hair and the geeky laugh. But instead of being small and slump-shouldered, he was tall and skinny. And instead of a constant nervous smile, his smile was sort of crooked now and cool—ironic, I guess you’d call it. He looked like he was constantly making fun of himself—and of just about everything else too.
They stood in the middle of the room together, watching me, waiting for me to answer them. I tried to find the right words.
“Well, the thing is— I mean, don’t take this the wrong way. It’s great to see you guys. I can’t tell you how great it is.”
“But?” said Miler.
“But Josh is right. I came to the Ghost Mansion because I didn’t want to get you involved.”
Rick gave a big laugh. He stepped up to me, towering over me, looking down at me from his height. “Hey, Charlie, we understand that. We know you want to keep us out of it. We’re just ignoring you, that’s all.”
“Sure,” said Miler. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, guy. To figure out what you want and then do exactly the opposite.”
I laughed. “That’s great of you, really, but . . . this is serious. I mean, this isn’t, like, a prank or something, like spending the night here without telling our parents. It’s the police that are after me. The real police. I’m a fugitive. They think I’m a killer. If they find out you guys are helping me, you could be accessories or something. You could go to jail.”
Rick nodded. He looked over at Miler. “He’s right. Let’s get out of here.”
Miler gave a quick laugh. None of them moved. They weren’t going anywhere.
“The thing is, Charlie,” Josh said, “we can’t leave. You need us. The police are gonna be looking for you everywhere. Everyone in town is gonna be looking for you. You’re gonna need help, you’re gonna need people who can go out and look around and ask questions without making people suspicious. How else are you gonna find out what really happened to Alex? How else are you gonna prove you’re innocent?”
“That’s crazy,” I said. “It’s too dangerous. Besides, you don’t even know I really am innocent.”
Rick and Miler looked at each other again.
“He’s right,” Miler said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Rick laughed. Then he turned to me. “We know you’re innocent, Charlie.”
Miler nodded. So did Josh.
“We all know it,” Rick said.
“Face it,” said Miler. “You’re just not killer material, old pal.”
“Don’t get us wrong,” Josh added. “You have a lot of other good qualities. I mean, we still like you and everything, even if you’re not a murderer. But you’re not a murderer.”
I turned away and looked out the window again. I had to. I didn’t want them to see my face just then, the emotion in my face. The police said I was guilty. The judge and jury said so. The newspapers, the TV. Even I sometimes wondered whether I was really innocent or not.
But not Rick and Miler and Josh. They knew I was innocent.
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