The Kings of Summer

seven.

"Okay, we've traced the kids' cell phones to this bus. Savanovic, Dietzel, check under the seats, see if the bathroom is locked."

"This is an artist's projection of what he might look like now. The beard may be a little full," Mr. Keenan announces, a tinge of desperation in his voice. He held up a sheet of paper with a drawing of Patrick on it. The only thing different about it was the full beard and mustache. Frank stands next to Karen, and they both sigh.

"They aren't here. This is a waste of real time, Davis," Frank groans.

"You can check under the bus if you want. There's not a lot of air that can make it under there, but..." the bus driver announces. He looks toward the small compartment and shrugs. Both Frank and Karen make their way towards the underneath of the bus.

"Listen to me. Our son ran away about eight years ago," a tall, awkward look male declared walking up to Mr. and Mrs. Keenan.

"I'm sorry. Did he come back?" Patrick's dad asked.

"Well, it was a really hard time for us," he says. His face falls and Patrick's mother's hope falters slightly. She desperately tries to find out if his son came back, but the two officers lug him off.

"You need to lean on each other!" the man shouts after them.

"What does he mean?" Mrs. Keenan asks, worried.

"He doesn't mean anything."

"Get him back on the bus," the female officer orders.

"No, I don't want to get on the bus. I'm a licensed therapist!"

Next to all of the commotion, Frank and Karen make a discovery. It was Joe's book bag. "This is Joe's bag. It's empty," Frank announces.

"Give that to me," Karen says, snatching the bag from his hand. When she does, something falls out and hits the ground with a thud. She gives Frank a smirk, declaring she was right, before leaning down to examine the items.

"That's Patrick's phone," his parents speak up. Karen reaches for another phone and holds it up.

"That's Joe's." And then she sees another phone. It is black and small, and the back was decorated with different semi-peeled off stickers. It was Charlie's phone.

"Some dude had a beeper?" the bus driver asked. And, before anyone could say anything, he added, "That's dope."

"Wait, what is this?" Karen asks, picking up a small silver game piece. Frank graciously takes it from her hand, examining it with distaste.

"It's a Monopoly piece. My piece. He's taunting me."

~

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!" Biaggio shouts. "We have to do this for real." The four were currently at a pipe they found while exploring. Large sticks were found in their hands as they slammed them repeatedly against the aging pipe. The four had attempted to make a song, but just ended up creating a cacophony of sound. Biaggio finally had the right idea to put some rhythm to it.

They begin again, Biaggio and Patrick on one side and Charlie and Joe on the other. The sticks met the pipe with force, and, soon, a great new melody was being created. Although there was the occasional mess up here and there, it sounded beautiful. The beat was rugged and clearly represented their life here.

After every time a stick struck the pipe, Charlie felt herself enlighten. Her body felt lighter, and she felt happier. She knew now why she came out here to live with these three boys. At first, she had her doubts—especially with the bad omen—but everything was perfect here.