Dusssie Read Online Free

don’t want them to notice us.” Mom tried to tug me away.
    But just then some guy let out a yell from inside the alley. Even half a block away, we could hear him. “This thing has air going in and out of its mouth!” he shouted.
    Mom gasped. I whammed both hands over my own mouth to keep from screaming out loud.
    â€œWhat the hell?” one of the cops yelled back. “It’s just a stone—”
    â€œIt’s stone, all right, but its mouth is open and it’s breathing. I can feel the air moving. Get the ambulance over here!”
    â€œYou’re crazy.”
    â€œNo, he’s not,” said a different voice, a medic, maybe. “There’s a heartbeat. This thing is alive!”
    By evening I felt so schizo glad, sad, mad, bad, and scared I had turned off my cell phone so my friends couldn’t call anymore to tell me about What Had Happened—I couldn’t handle talking with anybody, not even Keisha or Stephe. I couldn’t stand to watch the news anymore, either. It was so all about Troy, who was lying in NYU Medical Center with a dozen specialists trying to figure out what was the matter with him.
    â€œMom, can we turn it off?”
    â€œâ€¦ hospital spokesperson has now confirmed,” the anchorwoman was saying breathily, “that SoHo teenager Troy Lindquist has suffered some unknown disease, accident, foul play, or possibly even terrorist attack that has partially turned him to stone. While the mysterious incident has left his internal organs functioning normally, externally his entire body is now composed of a porous form of white marble, leaving him unable to move, eat, speak, or …”
    I’d heard it a dozen times. “Mom? Off? Please?”
    Perched beside me on the sofa, leaning toward the TV, she shook her head. “Not until I’m sure nobody saw you.”
    â€œLook, they said —”
    â€œI know.”
    They had actually interviewed the kids. Friends of Troy’s on their way to school had recognized the “statue” lying in the alley. When Troy hadn’t showed up for homeroom, they had told the teacher, and she’d thought they were talking about a body or something, so she’d called 911.
    â€œâ€¦ stone clothing and shoes inseparable from the stone of his skin,” the anchorwoman was saying. “His fingernails, hair, and eyes also appear to have been turned to stone. While it is assumed he cannot see, his brain scan indicates heightened mental activity. There is no indication yet as to whether his condition might be contagious or criminally induced. The mayor is assembling a special task force to determine the cause of this unusual circumstance, and meanwhile, the governor is urging citizens to stay calm—”
    â€œMom, please.” I wasn’t staying calm. I started to shake again, like I’d been doing off and on since the “incident.” One minute I’d feel so glad and thankful that Troy was still alive, which Mom said had never happened in her case. She thought it must be because I was half-human that I hadn’t completely turned him to stone, just petrified his outer layer. But then the next minute I’d feel awful, because how was Troy supposed to live like that? I mean, they had drilled holes in him for tubes to feed him and stuff, and he couldn’t even blink his blind eyes to show whether he knew what was happening. Poor Troy, they had to find a way to make him better.
    But then—this was what scared me—if they did help him and he got better, what would he tell them?
    If they found out about me, what would they do to me?
    I trembled so hard the sofa shook.
    Now the TV screen showed a middle-aged man and woman with rainy gray faces. “The afflicted teenager’s parents have agreed to be interviewed.”
    I closed my eyes and hid behind my hands.
    What’sss the matter with her ? a snaky voice complained in my head. I felt