Hannah Gersen - Home Field

He didn’t tell her about the way his mind could drift in the direction of fear, the sense he would get of a storm coming, darkening all his thoughts. He would get a cold panicky feeling in his bones and he would have to escape. He would concentrate on planning his escape if he couldn’t leave right away. Once he got out, he would instantly feel better.

The only time he didn’t worry about that feeling coming on was during play practice, when he stood under the lights or in the wings looking onto the stage, that flat empty space that every afternoon became full of life, a little pocket world within itself.

His favorite person — after Sylvia — was Seth. Seth played the Cowardly Lion and everyone liked him. He had shoulder-length hair that he wore in a ponytail and he played the guitar. There was always a group of people around him between scenes, and he would let Robbie listen in on his conversations. Afterward, he would explain anything Robbie didn’t understand. Robbie kept the new words filed away for future use: weed, hottie, forty, douchebag, blow job, Deadhead, shrooms . There were bands to learn, too. Seth made him a mix for Outdoor School called Happy Camper Tunes . Robbie listened to a few songs every night before he fell asleep, sneaking his Walkman into his bunk. Then he switched tapes and listened to Les Mis . He had to hear “Castle on a Cloud” before he fell asleep. He loved the sweet way the little girl sang it.

The first time Robbie saw Bryan standing on the altar at church, chin tipped up, tears streaming, he thought Bryan was an actor, too. Someone who needed a stage. He told Seth about it, one day after school, and then Seth told him his theory of religion, how it was a made-up world for people to pretend in, and how if you were going to live in an imaginary world, you might as well pick one that didn’t make you feel guilty all the time. Seth was going to be an actor when he finished school. If he didn’t get into his first-choice college, he was going to cut his hair and move to California. He liked to say that when something annoying happened: Fuck it, I’ll just cut my hair and move to California! Sometimes Robbie said it, too. It always made Seth laugh.

Robbie wanted to be an actor, too. His plan was to call Seth when he graduated. Seth would be famous by then and would help him get his start. It wouldn’t matter that he and Seth were six years apart, because when you grew up, you were allowed to hang out with people who were older than you and it wasn’t strange.

Robbie’s hands were getting cold, even with his gloves on. He put them in his pockets and retrieved one of the two Snickers bars he had secreted there. Aunt Joelle had sent them to him, along with some raisins, gum, and a word find from some lame Christian kids’ magazine. He didn’t even do word finds anymore. He had moved on to cryptograms. Still, he was grateful for the package. His dad hadn’t even sent him a letter.

He bit into the candy bar, trying to savor each layer. It was close to four thirty. His classmates had probably already made it back to the school. He wondered how long until they began to search for him.

THE GIRL DRESSED as Glinda — her name was Lacey, Stephanie was pretty sure — had an illegal pet bunny who everyone agreed could serve as Toto. Stephanie coaxed the large, sleepy black rabbit into the small wicker basket she had found at Goodwill.

“He’s a very chill bunny, don’t worry,” Lacey said. She adjusted the puffed sleeves of her straight-from-the-eighties Laura Ashley gown. “I think I need more glitter.”

“You all need more glitter!” someone yelled from the hallway. Stephanie invited her inside to join the preparty. She was uncostumed, save for a pencil-thin mustache, drawn with eyeliner. “I’m John Waters,” she said. “From Baltimore?”

“I’m from Baltimore — sort of!” Theresa called from the corner, where she was applying her Tin Man makeup. Her ensemble was a cleverly constructed mix of tinfoil and spray-painted cardboard. Nearby, Gabe was the Cowardly Lion, his golden curls perfectly playing the part.

“Come on, everyone, let’s get a photo,” Stephanie said. “We have to take one to show my little brother.”

John Waters took the photo, taking turns with everyone’s cameras. Stephanie enjoyed the moment self-consciously. It was like she had to keep checking in with herself to see if she was actually having fun. She was, she was. And if she wasn’t happy — she wasn’t quite — she felt the possibility of happiness shimmering at the edges of her life. She felt pretty and feminine in her blue dress. On her feet were her red cloth Mary Janes, decorated with red sequins. They were the reason she got to be Dorothy — that and her dark hair. She’d dyed it again, for the night, a deep, semipermanent brown.

People started coming into their room, helping themselves to red Jell-O shots quivering in Dixie cups. It was Halloween and there were parties all over campus, culminating in a dance at the campus center. Stephanie and her roommates were hoping to win best group costume. The prize was a month’s supply of cookies from Sugar Rush, a local bakery. The wholesomeness of the prize pleased Stephanie. It was the kind of thing Raquel would never want to win. She had run into her old friend earlier in the day, at the library. When she asked Raquel what costume she was planning, Raquel said she wasn’t going to bother, that costumes were for people who needed an excuse to dress up. Stephanie walked away from the conversation thinking that Raquel really had no sense of fun.

She and Gabe had invented drinks for each of the characters. The “Cowardly Lion” was ginger ale and whiskey; the “Tin Man” was any kind of canned beer; the “Scarecrow” was Boone’s Farm; the “Glinda” was champagne; and the “Dorothy” a.k.a. “There’s No Place Like Home” was a red Jell-O shot.

Stephanie stuck to the “Tin Man,” hoping her natural aversion to beer would help her to follow her grandmother’s advice about drinking: one drink per hour and no more than three drinks in one night.

“Stephanie!” Theresa called to her. “You have a phone call!”

Stephanie hadn’t even heard any ringing, that was how noisy their room was getting. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know. A kid.”

Stephanie’s first thought was that it was Robbie. She’d gotten an unremarkable letter from him that morning, postmarked from the Outdoor School. Maybe he was getting lonely. She remembered calling her mother from the Outdoor School pay phone. You had to sign up for it and then you only had five minutes to talk. Some kids would start crying as soon as they heard their mother’s voice. But most kids were like Stephanie, calling only because their mothers had insisted on it.

“Stephanie? It’s Megan.”

“Megan?”

Before Stephanie could say anything else, Megan started talking. “Your dad told me to call you. We were at practice, and one of Robbie’s teachers came running over from the middle school to say that Robbie is missing. And then Uncle Dean said I should call you from his office. He’s driving to the Outdoor School right now with Bryan. He didn’t want to wait. He said he’ll call you when he gets to the Outdoor School.”

“Wait, what do you mean Robbie is missing?”

“I don’t know much,” Megan said. “The lady from the middle school said he got lost on some hike? Or something? I don’t know. But now it’s dark, and they’re getting worried about him being all alone out there.”

The rabbit started moving in Stephanie’s basket, reacting to the way her body was shaking. She had to put the basket down and as she did, the rabbit hopped out.

“Hey, watch out!” Lacey hurried over to her, her Glinda skirts swishing. “You can’t let him jump out, he’ll run off — hey, what’s the matter?”