would be — to slash it open.
“Ow, ow, ow!” I screamed.
“What, what, what?” Jugg yelled.
The rock hit my mattress and didn’t even bounce, it was so heavy. I pulled my hand into my chest so I didn’t have to see how bad it was bleeding, because I hated blood, because that would really be a problem and I would really get in trouble and man, I wished I’d asked Mom for more of the really big bandages when she went to the store last and it was a good thing I was wearing a cotton shirt and if I didn’t get something to wrap this cut up really quick I was going to pass out.
“Here.” Jugg pulled my hand away from my chest and wrapped one of my clean soccer socks around my palm. I hadn’t even noticed he had gone to get it. I hissed when he tugged it tight and tied it in a knot on the back of my hand. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a friendly pat.
“Wow, Boads. You are so screwed.”
“Yeah,” I said. See, Jugg knew what my mom’s crazy was. Her crazy was all about blood.
I glanced out the window. “Not going to be dark for at least an hour. Maybe I can be somewhere else. Your house, maybe?” I asked.
Jugg shook his head. “She’d find you, and then my dad would get all mad at me having you over when she’s crazy. You could go to Nolly’s. She’s a mile away, that might be far enough.”
“Her mom wouldn’t let me in. She’s crazy about dirt, and I’m really filthy, and leaking, you know.”
Jugg sat down on the edge of my bed. “Yeah. Well, that sucks. But man, I can’t believe you stole the rock!”
I sat down next to him. “Jugg, you watched me do it. That counts as permission. Even if your dad gets mad, I’m not the only one who’s screwed.”
Jugg nodded. “I guess.” Then he grinned really big. “So what are you going to do with it?”
I looked at the rock. It was face down in my covers so that only the bald back of the skull was visible. The memory of its eyes moving brought a chill up my arms and legs. Face down like that, maybe it would suffocate. Or maybe it would eat its way through my mattress. I shuddered, feeling really cold now.
“I don’t know.” I rubbed my good hand down my blue jeans trying to smooth out the goosebumps on my legs. “I just wanted to have one, you know? Maybe I’ll put it under my bed until I decide.”
“Forget that,” Jugg said, suddenly all full of energy. “Let’s bury it. Wouldn’t that be cool? Dad would never find it!”
“I’m not carrying it out to my yard. I just got it here.” I was getting pretty tired. The sock on my hand was warm and really squishy. I just wanted lie down and rest but the stupid rock was in my stupid way and there was no way I was getting into bed with it.
“Hey, Boads, you okay?”
I blinked hard and realized I’d had my eyes closed and was falling asleep sitting up. Maybe I was bleeding pretty bad.
“I want to hide the rock before Mom gets up,” I said. “Help me push this thing under my bed.”
“Sure, yeah, I guess,” Jugg said. “I still think it would be cooler to bury it.”
“Yeah. Maybe tomorrow.” Or maybe I’d get a hammer and break it into gravel. I wondered if that would hurt it. Wondered, for one weird minute if maybe it really was one of Jugg’s relatives or something.
“Jugg,” I asked, “when your dad says the heads are family, he’s just kidding right?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s not really somehow getting real heads and making them somehow, into rock heads, is he?” It sounded stupid once I said it, but Jugg didn’t laugh at me. He didn’t even smile.
“He’s, you know, crazy, Boady. Just crazy.” And his voice had that flat tired sound to it. Our parents were weird. Super weird. And there wasn’t a lot we could do about it.
“Sure,” I said. “I know. Help me move this.”
With Jugg doing most of the work, and me keeping my bleeding hand completely out of the way, we got the rock off my bed and on my floor without