Chapter 23

chapter twenty-three We roll past Joe's Pizza. The windows glow and music drifts into the streets. Our monster friends don't know what it's like to grieve. At the tree house, we all help Warg up, inside. She settles into a chair. It's my gaming chair —the RollMaster781—and she perches on it in a strange, cartoonish way. One by one, her eyes blink open, on and off like twinkling Christmas bulbs. She looks around, her body of eyes scanning the tree house. "What is this place?" "Our home," I say. Dirk chuckles in a soft, sad way. "Welcome to the tree house at the end of the world...." "Let's get her some water," June says to Quint. "Wait, do the monsters drink water?" "I think so," Quint says. "Although, I've never actually seen any partake in H2O."

"She's gotta replenish all those tears, right?" June says. "She must be dehydrated." I whirl around. My hands are shaking. "GUYS! Just get something!" June and Quint hurry to Quint's room, where he keeps his gadgets and science-y things. My head hangs—staring down at my sneakers for a long, long time. Finally, I look up at Warg. "I don't understand," I say, and I'm not sure if I'm angry or just confused. "I thought you didn't care about anyone? You live up on the farm, all alone.... Why do you get to be sad?"

It is exactly because I care that I have isolated myself that caring. It is a flaw in my being. Do you know how it feels to grow attached to a creature who cannot grow attached in return? After a long moment, I quietly say, "Oh." "And now you know my secret," Warg whispers. "This whole time we just thought you were a big grumper," Dirk says. That's when we hear June scream. A moment later, she appears in the doorway. Her face is part shock, part crazy-pants

excitement. And then Quint is there, too. A TV is cradled in his arms, the cord snaking around his leg— he's attempting to rush into the room with it. But the TV doesn't fit through the doorway and there's a smack when it bangs into the wall, sending him tumbling back. "Ahem," he says, readjusting himself. He tries walking in backward, but the TV is still just as wide. Another smack. He finally sneaks through sideways, and when he turns around, I see... Whoa.

The TV recording is paused. But there, on the screen, I see— June's parents. Their names. "It worked," she says breathlessly. "They're OK. My parents are OK—and they're out there somewhere...." I look to Quint. "And... and yours, buddy?" He blinks quickly. He's chewing on his lip. "I don't know. I'm—I'm too scared to look. It's recorded. I just need to rewind. But I'm not sure if..." His voice trails off and his eyes drift away from us. I swallow and decide this is a best friend's job. Like ripping off the Band-Aid. I press the REWIND button. Thousands of names speed in reverse. It's like watching a Star Wars opening scrawl, but upside down. We stand, all of us in silence, for some of the longest minutes of my life. And then— I see the name. Baker. Then—oh no—another Baker. And another.

"Quint, there are, like, a gajillion Bakers! Why do you gotta have such a popular last name?!" "JACK, C'MON!" Quint shouts. The names creep past, slower, and then I pause. I swallow. There's a lump in my throat. His mom. His dad. I see their names. And I say, with a smile, "If I was a lousy friend, I could mess with you so hard right now...."