Page 1 of Freedom
Chapter One
Two weeks since theyleft Boulder. Two weeks of driving toward the rising sun, of rushing landscapes—countless shades of green flashing by, more than Tobias had noticed even in Boulder, and fields dotted with many more colors—and Jake’s music humming along his bones while Jake drummed on the wheel, singing because he must behappy, in the Eldorado, with Tobias, or maybe, possibly, both.
Two weeks of flying through half a dozen towns every day, riding unending gray and black highways that stretched on forever before them, smooth and sure and promising to carry them anywhere Jake thought to take them. Tobias had studied American geography, he knew the distance in miles, but he was tempted to believe this gently changing land, these hills and plains, these people, were infinite, or covered at least half the globe.
Every day Jake made pit stops to refill the tank, clean the windshield and swipe bug smears off the hood, hit the restroom, and stock up on snacks and drinks, but he never left Tobias for a second. When Tobias came out of the restroom, Jake always had some excuse to be dawdling by the door; when Tobias was staring at the almost endless options of food and drink, Jake never stepped away into the sections of clothes and magazines and instead kept so close that Tobias could feel him at his back, could feel Jake’s smile on his skin even when he wasn’t looking at him.
And it seemed like everywhere they stopped, the reals were cheerful, happy, andnice, like the people in Boulder. They even smiled at him—from what Tobias glimpsed before he dropped his eyes—and he wished he could smile back. He knew Jake would have liked him to look, but it was as though he had a guard shoving his head down every time their gazes fell on him.
He’d worried at first that Jake would know and be angry that Tobias understood what he wanted and wasn’t doing it; the Director would have had him flogged for the implied disobedience. But he gradually realized, with every brilliant smile and reassuring touch on his arm, that Jake was happy enough when Tobias managed the little things. Getting out of the car without being told. Answering simple questions from reals (What would you like to drink?andHot, isn’t it?), even if he stuttered over the single-word response. These triumphs seemed so small. Tobias knew they were a fraction of what he was capable of if it was for Jake, and he came close to panic sometimes—not as bad as it had been those first few weeks in Boulder, but still clogging his throat, twisting in his chest like straps compressing his ribs.
But something was always changing now, and it was good to have distractions. As soon as Tobias felt the walls closing in, those walls fell away, and new corridors led out. When he knew the people in the latest little town were watching them (They must know what a freak I am and everything I’ve done), he and Jake left them behind and found new people down the road.
And Jake, Tobias’s one constant, the only person he needed, was there (Time to hit the road, again, Toby) driving the fear away.
Even in the hours when Jake was quiet as he drove, no sound but the hum of tires over pavement, Tobias felt... he wasn’t sure how to define it. He didn’t want to call it happiness—a freak didn’t deserve to be this happy, certainly not for this long—but there was a lightness in him, a sureness that this wasright, and it all came back to Jake. Jake belonged in the Eldorado, on the road. Tobias was sorry Jake had tried to stay fixed in one place as long as he had, especially if he had stayed in Boulder just for Tobias. It was so much better out here, on the road, with new places, limitless highways, eternal horizons.
They drove east—north and south across the states, but always heading east—and Tobias kept the map spread out in his lap so he could run his finger along the highways, the snaky country roads, and match names to the signs flashing by. He could sayWe’re here, and we’ll be here by nightfall, and watch Jake beam at him, like Tobias ever needed to know where he was besides that he was with Jake.
They didn’t dawdle much in the towns, but when they had lunch at a diner in Gibbon, Nebraska, Tobias noticed a flier for the Grand Island Library Book Sale (that week, ten a.m. to seven p.m.) pinned to the bulletin board behind the counter.
Jake followed his gaze. “Wanna check it out?”
Tobias kept his hand still on his fork, wondering. He always first considered the possibility that this was a No question: one of those moments when Jake wanted him to practice saying no, as if it was somehow so important that Tobias learn to defy him at the right times. If he said yes, would Jake really take him there, maybe even pay money for books just for Tobias to have? Tobias tried not to think about how much money Jake had spent on him already, for the food and the motel rooms and the extra gas needed to carry him in the Eldorado, all for which he’d gotten nothing in return. He didn’t want to ask Jake for more because he didn’tneedmore, he needed nothing but Jake, and yet because Jake had asked...
“Do you want to?” Tobias asked hesitantly. He lifted his eyes only to see Jake’s mouth twist in a way that wasn’t happy. Not the right answer.
Jake leaned forward across the table, and Tobias fought not to pull back. “I’m asking you, Toby. I’m happy to take you if you want to go.”
Tobias bit his lip and dropped his gaze. Jake wouldn’t mind for that moment, and he needed to focus, to clear worry out of his thoughts for just a second to decide what he... wanted. Jake had looked so earnest. “We—we can go,” Tobias forced out. The words didn’t come easily. “We can look.”
Jake sat back, and he looked relieved, though Tobias wasn’t sure why. If Jake had wanted to go, he didn’t need to ask him.
When the waitress came by with their check, Jake asked for directions to the library, and Tobias listened close to her answer too, in case Jake wanted to ask him later.
The book sale filled the little park outside a large stone building—not as big as the Boulder library, but still many times bigger than the one in the Administration building back in Freak Camp. Tobias could have spent hours just looking at the stone structure, the architecture, the tall shelves of books he could see through the second-floor window, and the bright beds of flowers trailing around the corners of the building. But the sidewalks were lined with carts and folding tables piled high with books, empty cardboard boxes stacked on each end, and signs proclaiming Fill a Box for $5.
Tobias stopped before the array, awed just by the number of books, the possibility ofpurchasingso many, and the few reals walking around, picking up and flipping through books like they already owned them all. Like reals owned everything, which they did.
Jake broke Tobias’s daze by stepping forward, picking up an empty box and pushing it toward Tobias’s chest. Tobias grabbed it reflexively. “Go on,” Jake said. Sunglasses hid his gray eyes, but his small smile was one of the rare, openly gentle ones that could stop Tobias’s breath.
Tobias didn’t know where to begin. It was hard enough to believe he could really reach out and take any of these books, put them in the box, and keep it as his own, even if Jake paid for it. Worse, that he might take books that reals wanted. He didn’t know what to pick, what hewanted, even though he had more practice now at wanting things. Every day, Jake asked him what he wanted on his toast, if he wanted diet or regular Coke, whether he wanted cheese on his hamburger.
But books were more important, and Tobias could feel the old habit of not wanting things, of hiding anything he did want so that it wouldn’t be taken away, crawling over his skin. He wanted to want, but he couldn’t quite find the words to admit it.
But Jake was there, always there, in this like in everything. Jake picked up books at random, reading the backs, snorting at them, passing them to Tobias. He handed Tobias a little of everything—paperback novels, ancient books with broken spines and the titles worn away, a textbook on marine biology—telling him to “Check this out, Toby. Sound good?” and keep it if he wanted it. Before Tobias knew it, his box was nearly full, and Jake had another box under his arm—Tobias hadn’t known Jake wanted books too—and Tobias was dazed and nervous and happy.
When no more space was left in either box, Jake stacked them together and handed ten dollars to the gray-haired librarian sitting at a table in the middle. Then he came back, heaved both boxes up, and walked with Tobias back to where they’d parked the Eldorado.
He stowed both boxes in the backseat, then turned back to Tobias. “These should last you a couple of days, right? I mean, there’s got to be at least thirty books there, all with really small print, and you can probably count that fat one about zoology as two just because it’s such a fucking awkward shape. I’m glad she let us get away with kind of shoving the corner in there, y’know? Otherwise we would’ve had to get a different box if you were really set on learning about a day in the life of a wasp.”
Tobias’s mouth fell open, though words failed to immediately come. He glanced, astonished, at the two boxes of books, then back to Jake. “They’re b-both—but I thought some, the ones y-you picked up—”
“Nah,” Jake said, and leaned against the open door, hands in his pockets. “I’ve read enough books in my life. You can fill me in on the good parts.”
Tobias couldn’t speak. He looked at the ground, knowing there was nothing he could say to thank Jake, repay him for his unbelievable generosity. Tobias couldn’t possibly be good enough to deserve this. He didn’t have the words. He wasn’t sure the words existed.
“Hey.” Jake reached out, pushed his knuckles lightly against Tobias’s shoulder. “Ten bucks, no big deal. Just wait until I clean out my next poker game. We’ll wipe out the next library sale down to the Baby-Sitters Club.”
