The Elephant of Surprise (The Russel Middlebrook Series Book 4) (4 page)

So this all had to do with "freeganism"? Whatever that was, exactly.

"It's a protest?" Min said.

"Sort of. But also…well, kind of a principled stand. I guess you could say we're opting out. We're choosing not to participate in a culture that we think is immoral. Freeganism means we only use exactly what we need in life. We buy as little as possible, mostly living on what we can forage and what other people throw away. That way, we only use exactly what we need."

"Freegansim means we're free!" Venus said, throwing in an annoying little twirl.

Gunnar nodded back at the clearing. "But, I mean, if some people choose not to work, not to earn money, what can you do?"

"A lot of the people who are homeless in America are mentally ill," Wade said. "A high percentage are veterans with post-traumatic stress syndrome. There are also a lot of children, or single mothers with children. Even when they do work, they can't afford child care. Sometimes they make it for a while, but then something goes wrong, someone gets sick, and they're out on the streets. It's not that they're lazy like a lot of people think."

Min nodded, her bleeding liberal heart warming to Wade at last. What Wade was saying made sense to me too. Was I being brainwashed by a cult? Was this how it worked? Say things so convincingly that they don't even need to drop a burlap sack over your head?

Wade and Venus would probably say I'd
already
been brainwashed by a cult: the cult of a culture that carelessly wastes so much stuff while other people starve and doesn't even think twice about it. Was that true?

"So you dropped out of school to live in the woods?" I said.

"I finished school," Wade said. "Venus and I both did. And we don't live here in the woods."

"You don't?" I said. "Then where do you live?"

"Not too far. We're squatters." I must've had something of a blank look on my face, because he added, "We live in abandoned houses. It also doesn't seem right to us that some people are homeless when there are all these empty houses around. There's a whole community of us."

I nodded, fascinated—though I wasn't sure if it was the freegans I found interesting or just Wade.

"What do you do for money?" Gunnar said.

"We don't use money, not if we can help it," Wade said. "Like I said, we're opting out." Wade zipped up his backpack. "But Venus and I should go. We're heading the opposite direction you are. You guys know how to get back to your school from here, right?"

"Go?" I said. "Go where?" I was tempted to add, You live in an abandoned house and eat dandelions and Dumpster trash: where exactly would you have to be?

"Oh, we have a whole circuit!" Venus said. "Lots of homeless in this city."

To tell the truth, I was surprised they were leaving. They weren't going to ask us to become freegans? I thought at the very least they were going to ask us for money. Why had they shown us the landfill and the homeless camp anyway? Maybe it was some complicated brainwashing tactic to make us want to learn more about them. If so, it was working.

"See you guys later!" Wade said, even as he disappeared into the trees.

Min and I exchanged a look. This wasn't how she had expected this encounter to end either. Gunnar, meanwhile, was busy typing into his phone.

"Wait!" I said, and Venus stopped and looked back at me. I stared at her stupidly. I didn't know what I wanted to ask her—hell, suddenly I couldn’t even remember Wade's name. "Are we ever going to see you again? You and your boyfriend?"

"I'm sure you'll see us around." She started to leave, but then stopped again. "Oh, and Wade and I aren't a couple."

But before I could ask a follow-up question—like did Wade have some
other
girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?—she'd drifted off into the woods too.

Okay, so maybe fate had it out for me after all. I hadn't fallen in love with an ice sculpture exactly, but the same day I'd vowed to forsake love, I'd run into Wade, a homeless, Dumpster-diving freegan.

And I confess: I was smitten.

CHAPTER FOUR

I wanted to talk to someone about my thing for Wade, but I couldn't mention him to Min and Gunnar. Like I said, I hadn't even made it twenty-four hours since I'd forsaken love in front of both of them.

It seemed even weirder to talk to Otto, my new ex, about him. But that night when I was IMing him, Otto surprised me.

OttoManEmpire: So you met someone?

Now this was just uncanny. Otto could still read my mind—even about something like
this
?

Smuggler: WTF?! How did you know?

OttoManEmpire: I didn't! It was a total wild guess.

Smuggler: I swear to God, it wasn't planned! And it isn't anything yet. I mean, I don't even know if he's gay. I'll probably never even see him again.

OttoManEmpire: Oh, I have a feeling you'll see Wade again.

Wait. I hadn't told Otto Wade's name. So how had Otto known it? Maybe he could read my mind for real!

Then I clued in:

Smuggler: You've been following Gunnar's posts. You saw the photos he posted today about Wade and Venus.

OttoManEmpire: LOL. Yeah. Darn, I wanted to make you think I was just brilliant! I figured I could milk this one for weeks.

Smuggler: But I didn't tell Gunnar I thought Wade was hot. Did Gunnar write that?

OttoManEmpire: No. But there's a photo of you staring at him. I could just tell. And, I mean, Wade IS hot.

I smiled. But even so, I wasn't sure what to think about all this. On the other hand, I had wanted someone to talk to about Wade.

Smuggler: Is this weird? You're my ex-boyfriend. It seems like it should be weird talking about this with you.

OttoManEmpire: Yes. No. Maybe. I don't care! I want to know more!

So I told him about Wade, everything Gunnar hadn't already posted, that is.

Smuggler: Have you ever heard of freeganism?

OttoManEmpire: I hadn't, but I looked them up after Gunnar's posts. Part of me doesn't believe it's a real thing.

Smuggler: It's a real thing. And I'm 90% sure he's not a nutcase.

Even as I typed this, I thought: Of course, I'd also been
more
than ninety percent sure that Kevin wasn't hooking up with men in the park at night.

OttoManEmpire: So you're in love with a guy who lives in a Dumpster?

Smuggler: He doesn't LIVE in a Dumpster. That's just where he gets his meals.

I stopped. That didn't sound any better, did it?

Smuggler: And I'm not "in love" with him! I just met him!

OttoManEmpire: I know, I know.

Smuggler: But there is something about him.

How did I explain to him that Wade was exactly the sort of adventure I'd been looking for—exactly the kind of thing that had been lacking in my mostly-online relationship with Otto?

Suddenly, I understood exactly why talking to your ex about current boyfriend prospects was a bad idea. Who knew?

OttoManEmpire: Looking for a little walk on the wild side, huh?

Now Otto was back to reading my thoughts, for real this time. This was scary.

Smuggler: Hey, did you ever talk to the guy you were interested in?

OttoManEmpire: No!!!!! He doesn't even know I exist. But you're changing the subject. I wanna hear about your guy!

The truth is there was nothing more to say about Wade. I probably never
would
see him again. And even if I did, just because Wade wasn't with Venus, that didn't mean he was into guys.

*   *   *

The next morning, I found Min in the hallway scraping gum off her locker with a folded three-by-five card.

"Hey," I said.

"How hard is it for people to put their damn gum in a damn trash can?" she said. "Seriously!"

"I know. People at this school are total slobs. You should see the boys' bathroom. There are liquids on the floor in there, I'm not even sure
what
body opening they came out of."

The gum was gooey, and Min's folded card was mostly just spreading it around and making little strands as it stuck to the paper. "Damn it!" she said. "Like I really want to
touch
it when it's been in someone's mouth!"

Gum on your locker is definitely annoying, but Min's reaction seemed a little over-the-top. As chance would have it, I had one of those little disposable toothbrushes in my pocket—I'd started carrying one a couple of months before so I could brush my teeth after lunch. I've also been known to tuck in my shirt and wear clean underwear. What can I say? Sometimes gay stereotypes are true.

I wet the toothbrush with my mouth, then used it on the gum. I kept brushing until it was gone, then wiped the rest away with a Kleenex.

"Thanks," Min said.

I turned to her. "What's wrong?"

"What?" She wouldn't look me in the eye.

"This isn't about gum. Is it Leah?"

Min slumped against her locker. "At the zoo, you were talking about Otto and I was talking about Leah. And here it is, three days later, and you and Otto have broken up."

"What are you saying? You want to break up with Leah?"

"No. But it's like I said before. Something is wrong. Something is
still
wrong. She's keeping secrets."

I was about to tell her I thought she was being ridiculous, that there was no way Leah was keeping secrets from her. But then I remembered Kevin's secrets.

"How about this?" I said. "Why don't we all go out together this weekend? I'll pay special attention to Leah. If she seems weird in any way, we'll figure out what to do next, okay?"

Min considered. "I know you're just humoring me. You think you'll see her, and everything will be totally normal, and you'll be able to use that in order to tell me that I'm wrong, to just move on. But maybe you're right—maybe I
am
imagining things. So I'll give it a try."

*   *   *

I'm embarrassed to admit how much I wanted to see Wade again. But I was pretty sure he didn't have a phone number to call, or even an online profile to stalk. I didn't know his last name anyway.

All I had to go on was the Dumpster where I'd first seen him. So in between classes, I found myself drawn there. If I had even the smallest piece of paper to throw out—the tiniest ball of pocket lint—I made a point to walk all the way to that stupid, sour-smelling Dumpster.

He wasn't ever there. And did I mention how bad it stank?

I knew returning to the Dumpster was stupid as I was doing it: even if Wade was to come back there again today, he wouldn't do it until the kitchen crew dropped off the trash from lunch. He and Venus had said as much the day before—they had it all timed.

But he wasn't there after school either, even after I watched the kitchen dump its lunch trash. Gunnar and I usually rode home together, but I'd told him to go on without me (I'd lied and said I had to talk to a teacher about a school project).

I lingered by that Dumpster for almost twenty minutes, but Wade never showed. It didn't matter anyway—he probably wasn't even gay. (On the other hand, his clothes had been spotless and, like I said, sometimes gay stereotypes are true!)

I thought: maybe he's in that woods, hanging out at the homeless camp or gathering dandelions and nettles for a wild greens salad.

I didn't have anything better to do, so I decided to check it out. My house was in the opposite direction from the woods, so I decided to leave my bike at the school and come back for it later.

It was a cold winter's day—not freezing, just chilly—and the air under the trees smelled of frost and pine needles. Fortunately, I had on a thick jacket (people who ride their bikes to school every day know how to dress for the weather). It's funny how I hadn't noticed the temperature the day before when I'd been following Wade and Venus.

I walked along the trails. The closest thing to a destination that I had in mind was the homeless camp—that was probably the most likely place for Wade to be. Maybe he brought them food every afternoon, but not necessarily always from the same place. What I hadn't counted on was how confusing those trails were—and I'd been in these woods even before Wade and Venus had taken us here. It was like a maze back there.

I thought I caught a glimpse of something moving in the trees up ahead. Could it be Wade? But when I tried to follow it, I didn't see anything at all.

Then I saw a flash of blue. This had to be someone's clothing, right? Was it Wade? He hadn't been wearing blue the day before. (I wondered how often he changed his clothes.)

But as quickly as I'd seen it, it was gone. Between the maze of trails and these glimpses through the trees, it felt a little like I was searching for fairies. At least the winter temperature meant I didn't have to worry about being run down by mountain bikers—a real worry in the summer. On the other hand, I
was
all alone back here, except for the people from the homeless camp. And even Wade had said that a lot of homeless people were mentally ill.

I rounded a cluster of bushes and ran right into someone—literally. I'd been so preoccupied looking for glimpses through the trees that I wasn't watching where I was going. We didn't knock heads or fall over, but for a second we stood there, locked together in a tangle of arms, and the other person dropped what they were carrying.

"Sorry!" he said, pulling away. "Sorry about that."

It was Kevin Land.

Yes,
the
Kevin Land. What were the odds? Suddenly, we were two ships crashing in the night. Figures I go looking for Wade and end up with Kevin. Story of my life.

"Kevin," I said. The air was cold, but my voice was colder.

"Russel?" he said. "What are you doing here?" His voice wasn't cold, not at all. Then again, he didn't have any reason to be cold to me, did he?

"I don't know," I said. "I was just out for a walk." Why did I feel guilty? I didn't have anything to feel guilty about. The guy who hooked up with men in the park bushes while waiting for me was the one who had something to feel guilty about!

"Yeah?" he said. "That's great." He bent down to pick up the bag he'd dropped—something from McDonald's. This made sense. There was a McDonald's not too far from the school and this woods, at least as the crow flies. But from the look of the bulging bag, it was a lot of food for one person. Had he picked up food for the whole baseball team? (Kevin was this big baseball player.)

"You heading to practice?" I asked him.

"Practice doesn't start for another week."

"Oh." I should've known this. I'd walked right by the baseball field and there hadn't been anyone on it.

"Coach has us doing some runs on our own. That's why I was back here actually. I've been running here for two weeks now." Sure enough, he was dressed for a run: workout shorts, a sweatshirt, and everything. I noticed something else about him: how handsome he is. That's a cliché, isn't it? To run into an ex-boyfriend and notice how handsome he is? But it was also true. His chest was thicker even than just the year before, his black hair even more tousled.

"Yeah," I said, "I hear Big Macs are a really good workout."

Kevin stared at me for a second.

"It's a joke," I said, nodding to the bag on the ground. It was a bad joke, but it was still a joke. What the hell was I doing joking around with Kevin anyway?

Kevin sort of shuffled his feet. "Oh. This stuff isn't for me."

"Yeah? Who's it for?"

He thought for a second. "Listen, I should get going. This is getting cold."

"Yeah," I said. He
should
get going. Why was I even talking to him anyway, after the way he treated me?

"See ya around, Russel."

"Yeah," I said.

And he was gone.

After Kevin left, I'm embarrassed to admit I started shaking. I wasn't sure if it was because I was too flushed or too cold. Maybe it was a little of both. Except it probably wasn't either of those things. It was probably just Kevin.

And as I stood there shivering, I realized something. Kevin had said he'd been running in these woods for two weeks now, in preparation for the baseball season. He'd also said that big bag of McDonald's food wasn't for him. If he'd been running in these woods for two weeks, it made sense that he'd have run into the homeless camp eventually. So is that who the hamburgers were for?