16: Air

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Robert

           Girlfriend.

           Yeah, right.

           I don't even know her favorite color. I walk towards my home, kicking rocks and snapping twigs, trying to stop thinking about what that boy said. I finally leave the forest, but I only get to the sidewalk when I hear my name. When I turn, I see Anne, slightly winded, and speeding to me.

           "Robert.... my sister.... Erica
... she's missing...." she pants.

           "She's missing? Since when? Why don't you look more worried?"

           "I-I don't know when she disappeared. When I arrived home, my parents told me she was missing."

           "Anne, you just avoided the other question."

           She puffs out her cheeks and then releases the air. Finally, she tells me, "I don't know why. I'm not sure if she even is missing or if she ran off or if she is just out with friends and forgot to tell my parents."

           I nod slowly, trying to paint a picture in my head. I know virtually nothing about this Erica. That gives me close to nothing usable for theory-building.

           "Let's look for her," I say with a shrug.

           Annabel Allen nods and says, "Let's," still slightly out of breath. I laugh and she raises her eyebrows. "You're out of shape, cousin."

           "Ha-ha. Now shut up and help me look for my missing sister."

           But I can't stop smiling because that didn't sound menacing at all. I ask Annabel where we should start and Annabel says she thinks the area around her home would work.

           We begin walking, me behind her by a few steps, waiting for her to tell me where to turn. Fortunately, Anne's house isn't too far from the forest. We start off by covering her block, knocking on houses and asking if anyone has seen Erica. Annabel describes her as tall, bean pole thin, long black hair, thin lips, and small, brown eyes.

           Well, this is interesting.

           Annabel Allen has hair in between red and brown. She has big, hazel eyes and big lips that can be distracting at times. She isn't exactly tall or bean pole thin, but somewhere in between.

           I'm guessing Erica isn't exactly family. Or maybe Annabel Allen isn't exactly family.

           The next door we knock at, a woman opens the door, a crying child in her arms, and another at her legs. "Jehova's Witnesses?" she says, hugging the baby closer to her chest until it stops crying.

           "No, but we do have a free copy of the Watchtower if you would like." Annabel hits me in the chest.

           I guess she didn't think my joke was funny.

           "Ma'am-"

           "I'm Catholic, thank you."

           "But, ma'am!"

           The door slams in our face.

           Anne and I exchange a look of annoyance then walk to the next house.

           The next door that opens is a man in his late forties. He scratches his bare, hairy chest and shoots his eyes at Annabel. His lips turn into a grin and he says, "Well, what can I do for you, young lady?" He paints her body with his eyes and I see Anne shudder. I clear my throat and the man turns his head to me, his grin disappearing.

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