Charlie gets off his bike and crouches down next to it. No matter what, there will always be two kids in their family. Even if everything she owned is thrown away, even if her closets are empty, her room will always belong to her, and whenever he’s asked, at school or by a stranger he meets, he’ll always say, “I have one sister, Amanda,” because he always will. He’ll have her long after his parents have grown old and died, and if he ever has children of his own he’ll tell them everything about her, what her favorite music was, the names she used to call him, everything, so they’ll remember her, too.
He sits there by his bike for more than an hour. He doesn’t care what his grandparents think, he’s not going home. When he finally gets up to walk closer to the pond, his sneakers sink into the mud. He carries his camera equipment in the gym bag and he sits down. He doesn’t care if his jeans get all muddy, but he’s careful with the gym bag and puts it down on some pine needles. There is a lone dragonfly with blue wings skittering over the water. A fat green frog, who will soon disappear for the winter when the pond begins to freeze over, sits in the last of the sunlight. Something larger than a frog is moving in the center of the pond, and Charlie quietly edges closer. He opens the gym bag with one hand, lifts out the Minolta, and holds it to his eye. He hears a swishing noise and a moment passes before what it is registers: it’s the sound of a bike riding on damp leaves. (;harlie lets the camera down and turns to see Sevrin dropping his bike down. Charlie quickly turns back to the pond and raises his camera again. Whatever had been moving is motionless now.
“Your grandmother’s calling your friends to find you,” Sevrin says. “I figured you’d he here.”
“Brilliant deduction,” Charlie says.
“Yeah,” Sevrin says with a laugh. “What are you photographing?”
Sevrin walks a little closer to the pond and almost loses his balance on the slick leaves.
“Does your mother know you’re here?” Charlie says.
“No,” Sevrin says defensively. “And neither does yours. Or your grandmother, either.”
“That’s different,” Charlie says.
Sevrin sits down a few feet away.
“The kids in my new school are assholes,” Sevrin says. “One kid brings his homework to school in an attaché case. I swear to God.”
“Oh, yeah?” Charlie says.
He focuses on the center of the pond. If Amanda were here she’d probably want to go swimming. Cold water never bothered her. It’s getting dark fast and Charlie reaches into the gym bag for the light meter.
“That’s Amanda’s,” Sevrin says.
Charlie turns to Sevrin and glares at him. “What if it is?” he says, daring Sevrin to say something nasty about the gym bag because it’s pink.
“Neat dinosaur patch,” Sevrin says.
Charlie turns back and refocuses. He recognizes the sound of Sevrin tapping his foot. Sevrin always does that when he’s nervous.
“Look, I don’t care if you hate me,” Sevrin says. “You’re still my best friend.”
Through the camera, things look more yellow than they are. Shadows seem darker, more permanent. Charlie will never let himself forget her. Not in a million years.
“Hand me the flash,” Charlie says.
Sevrin scurries over to the gym bag and gets the flash attachment for him.
“Maybe you’d better go home,” Charlie says. “Your mother’s going to be worried about you. You’ll just be wasting your time. I haven’t even seen that turtle since the last time we were here.”
Sevrin thinks this over carefully. “That’s okay,” he says. “If anyone sees him, it’ll be us.”
There are many national and local organizations working to combat AIDS, among them the American Foundation for AIDS Research. Donations, made out to AMFAR, may be sent to:
At Risk
American Foundation for AIDS Research
40 West 57th Street
Suite 406
New York, New York 10019
Alice Hoffman, At Risk
(Series: # )
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