23

Around the same time that Franklin was being hidden in prison, Rae was released. Now, Rae had been in and out of jail many times since he ran away. Living outside, as he did, without what the Martians termed a legal residence, was a crime. And a host of other activities associated with it were also considered criminal. And so he knew what to do when he was released a year and a half after he entered and they returned his clothes to him and let him out onto the mid-morning sidewalk.

Rae had felt keenly the absence of alcohol, for it was much more difficult to obtain in prison. But almost as much, he had been tormented by his absence from Sara. He was given no opportunity to contact her, and like any lover he was awash with lonely fears in her absence.

When Rae made it back to Dave’s Hole, everyone was still there, except Sara.

He brought beer and whiskey that he bought with the little money he had from prison, in case people did not remember him so well. And when he climbed down and the greetings were over, he tried to ask casually, ‘So, where’s Sara at these days?’

‘She’s got sober,’ said Corker. ‘Trying to get her kids back or something.’

Nobody added anything else, and they all settled down to drink what Rae had brought and hear if he had any good stories from prison. Inevitably, the conversation came round to teeping.

‘So that’s how they got you,’ said Corker.

‘Fucking everybody teeps now,’ said Albert One-Eye. ‘Some places they won’t even talk to you anymore. Teep only.’

Rae’s mind was still focused on Sara, and it occurred to him that he might enlist this Alien technology to help him find her.

‘Do you know anyone who does it?’ he asked.

‘Who teeps? Fuck, Corker teeps!’

Rae was startled. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I got my social security settlement and went for it. It’s actually pretty cool—especially when you’re drunk.’

‘Can you use it to find Sara?’

‘It’s not like a fucking GPS, man, but I can ask around.’

Rae watched as Corker’s face slowly lost it’s tone, and the eyes glazed over, staring into the distance. After a few minutes passed, and Corker had started drooling, he suddenly said, ‘She’s still in town. She’s in some program up at the YWCA.’

Rae pushed himself up, swaying. He was intent on going to find her right then and there. But the others pulled him back down.

‘You can’t go now—it’s late.’

‘And you can’t go all boozed up. There’s no way they’d let you see her.’

And so it wasn’t until the next day, and with a reeling stomach and pounding headache that Rae went to see Sara. The YWCA wasn’t too far from Dave’s Hole—Rae didn’t even get on the bus. He waited outside the brick building most of the day until he saw her walk out. He called her name and ran up to her. She stopped but didn’t say anything.

‘I got out,’ said Rae.

‘Yeah,’ said Sara.

‘I looked for you at Dave’s Hole, but they said you got sober, and that you were gonna get your kids back.’

‘Yeah,’ she said.

‘That’s really great,’ said Rae. When she didn’t say anything more, he asked, ‘Could we go for a walk or something? I thought about you a lot.’

‘I got to go to an interview,’ she said.

‘Maybe afterward? I can wait.’

‘I got to be back,’ she said. ‘They’re really strict.’

‘But I need to see you,’ said Rae.

‘I gotta go,’ said Sara.