Brehen
less, as if the air might carry him over the school walls and land him gently on the other side. Then his arms and legs flap in nervous propeller movements, and he falls like he really is a gargoyle carved out of stone. Everyone is quiet and at first I can't see where Sang has landed. The crowd forms a semi-circle around him. His jeans are loose, but it looks like one of his legs is bent the wrong way. I push in closer and see that his head is not bleeding, but he might have internal damage. He is making sucking hissing noises of pain. The real police tell him not to move, that an ambulance is on the way. The teachers are telling everyone to get back to their classes. The air is hot and dry, but the sight of Sang on the concrete freezes me, as if the temperature were absolute zero, as if I were floating in outer space, an astronaut falling forever away from the spaceship. I force myself to untuck my hand from my sweater sleeve and wave goodbye to Sang. I don't know if he sees me. It's hard to tell where his eyes are focused. I don't want to shout and draw attention to myself. I duck back into the crowd and out through the metal detector. Goodbye school. Goodbye broken friend. On the street, Analisa is in the back of a police car crying. There aren't any cops guarding her. Someone has given her a box of tissues. Through the open police car door I tell her, "Let's go, let's get out of here." "I can't. My parents." "I'm going up north with some friends. You can come with me." She doesn't look surprised. "You can't just run away. What would you do for money?" I tell her how we don't really need money. I want to make her understand that things don't have to be the way they are, that we don't have to live like this. I tell her that all of this is just a form we don't fit into, and there's a van with lace, and coffee, and hot chocolate from a bag, and sandwiches cut into tiny triangles at 3a.m., stretched to feed you and all your friends. We can live on so little. Analisa isn't crying anymore. "It doesn't work like that." "Then like what?" "Never mind." She turns away from me to look out the other window. "You'll see." THE PARK HAS A LOW MIST OVER IT, SO walking on the lawn is like flying in an airplane above the clouds. The only thing keeping me from floating away is my heavy bag. I wave to Sunny, who is swinging in the playground. "Hello!" He stops swinging. "They left early this morning. We had a big bonfire and roasted marshmallows for our bon voyage party." "But I'm going with them." I drop my bag in the sand. "We put the marshmallows on graham crackers. You should have come. 88
FUGUE#30