Each House was in charge of a world resource and took a color as its own. Gray was people and the management of them. I supposed caring for the elderly fell under that House, which meant I should say yes.
Only I didn’t have a stitch of gray on me.
This was one of those moments when I regretted being lazy about wearing colors. When I made a trip to town, I greened myself up from head to boot. Green was the House in charge of agriculture, and got me fewer looks and questions. My neighbors—though distant—believe me to be claimed by that House, and I didn’t see any reason to tell them otherwise. If White had been asking around, they’d already know that.
Luckily I had on green socks.
I shifted my leg forward and tugged up my trousers with my hands still in my pocket, flashing socks. “House Green. Sorry for the confusion. Got so dirty I had to dig into some clothing left behind by the previous residents a couple generations ago.”
That wasn’t much of a lie. The shirt I was wearing had been my mom’s. Plain cotton with tiny red check against a white background. She had worked lace on the collar and here and there stitched little white hearts between the checks.
I’d nearly worn the shirt out for the love of it.
“Do you also work the land for the elder Case?” the shorter woman asked, tapping something into her palm, though I didn’t see a screen there.
“Yes. I plant and harvest so she has winter stores. She donates a portion to the church too, of course. I have records if you care to see them.”
“No. That’s not why we’re here,” the taller woman said. “We’re looking for a man. Has anyone been by in the past day? Do be aware we are recording, and your statement can be used in proceedings against you.”
That last bit about recording and proceedings was common enough knowledge, I was surprised she said it. Then I realized she had to say it because of the gravity of the situation.
They had lost a man. From the look of the van, he was a very dangerous man they wanted locked up and transported. From her statement, it was also very important they find him.
Galvanized.Now I really wished I’d paid more attention to House politics and which galvanized was where and doing what.
What I needed right now was a handy lie. I wasn’t going to tell them he was sleeping off elephant tranquilizer in the nursery.
“Sure, sure. I understand you’re recording,” I said with a smile I did not feel. “But we haven’t had visitors in ages.”
“So you are saying there is no man in this house? On this property?”
“No stranger,” I said. Then I laughed a little. As long as I kept smiling, I could usually hide how angry and scared I was. Right up until I decided fists, and the throwing of them, was the solution.
“My boyfriend, Ned.” I bit my lip and looked coyly over my shoulder, like he was half-naked back there. “He’s here too. Helps out on the farm.”
“Sugarpookum,” Ned said right on cue, as if we’d practiced this ruse a hundred times. Which we hadn’t.
And also:sugarpookum?
“Is someone out there?” He pushed on past the screen door, still wearing the green shirt and overalls he’d had on since this morning. He’d tied a big old stripe of purple on each arm—indicating he was in hope of one day being transferred to House Violet to live a life dedicated to faith.
Ha! I’d like to see faith try to angel up that devil boy. Both of them.
Left Ned chewed on an apple, while Right Ned gave a big, innocent, blue-eyed smile.
One thing about Neds: he was dollar sharp at making people think what he wanted them to think. A far better faker and actor than I was.
“I thought I heard company,” Right Ned said with what sounded like real delight. Right Ned was the better liar of the two, a personality conundrum that had not escaped my notice, since generally he was also the nicer of the two.
“Isn’t this a blessed day? Sugarpookum, you can’t just leave them out here in the drive. Bring them in and offer them up some of the Lord’s tea. Would you like some tea made fresh from God’s bounty?”
The medicals, faced with a bucket load of country manners coming from a two-headed man bent on converting his life to religion, were caught flat-footed.
Their shared look of disgust was so good, I wished I could put it in a jar and keep it on the mantel.
“I was going to, but hadn’t had the chance is all, bumblebug,” I said.
Left Ned choked on the apple, which gave me no end of pleasure. Two could play the pet-name game.
