“He stared at me.You know the look.”
I did, as a matter of fact, know the look.The look showed up in some of my more bone-melting nightmares.
“By that point, I’d been living here for almost a year.I’d heard about this wild boy, the one who ran around town, the one everyone was slightly afraid of.And I thought, I’m too old for this kind of nonsense.So, I told him again.”
Even though I knew how things had eventually worked out, I couldn’t help imagining a particularly gory ending to this story.“What happened?”
“He picked it up,” Indira said.“And I told him I’d give him five dollars to help me load the groceries in Vivienne’s car.He threw the gum wrapper in the trash, and he carried the groceries.My God, Dash, he was such a pitiful thing.He was skin and bones in ratty old clothes.He hadn’t washed his hair—he had grass in it, as a matter of fact, because he’d been sleeping outside, although I didn’t know that until later.And that tiny, angry face.He was so angry.”She shook her head.“Vivienne didn’t want anything to do with him.She always liked things nice and neat.And I don’t know how to explain it, but it was like something inside me…opened.Something I’d been holding shut.Holding with both hands.I told him I wanted him to come to Hemlock House and do some chores, and I’d pay him.And he did.And I made him clean up afterward, and I gave him some clothes while I washed his, and he ate a full meal.And I cried that night like I hadn’t cried in years.”
The shadow of a bird flowed like water across the lawn.And then it was gone.
“He’s lucky he met you,” I said.
“Is he?”Indira seemed to turn the question around in her head.“I think I’m very lucky to have met him.”She gave her eyes a final dab with the tissues and said, “All right.I promise I’m perfectly back to normal.Here we go.”
And with that, she strode out of the kitchen.
We were sitting in our seats.Bobby was at the podium.“Pomp and Circumstance” was still playing on repeat in the background.
“Friends and family,” Bobby said.“Please rise for the class of 2019.”
We stood.Fox clutched their recorder.Millie wiped her eyes.
Keme appeared in the doorway.The black gown was a little too big, and it swallowed him.The mortar board was too small.He held himself with that familiar blend of wariness and belligerence that I’d noticed from the very beginning—like he suspected a trap.
Indira’s hand found mine.
I cupped my free hand around my mouth and cheered.Millie clapped.Fox gave a celebratory toot on the recorder.
For a moment, there was no trap.No savage world.Nothing to fear.And my feral wolf child beamed with happiness.
6
I was in the den, trying to write.Keme and Millie were making it difficult.
The scene in question was—well, I wasn’t sure.I mean, I knew my protagonist, Will Gower, was investigating a seedy pawn shop.But I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.Was the pawn shop empty?Probably.I mean, otherwise, whoever was in there would call the police—
“Dash,” Keme shouted from the billiard room.“How much does an apartment cost?”
“What?”
“HOW MUCH DOES AN APARTMENT COST?”(Millie providing backup.)
“I don’t know,” I said.“It depends.”
“On what?”Keme asked.
“How many bedrooms it has, where it is, how nice it is.Lots of stuff.”
“Does it matter which floor it’s on?”
“I don’t know.”And then, in case they’d missed it: “I’m writing.”
I returned to my seedy pawn shop.But then—did a pawn shop make sense?What if it were a seedy…butcher’s shop?Or a seedy florist!I’d never read a scene set in a seedy florist.And it wasn’t empty, it wasfull.
Wait.Did that make sense?Why would all those people be there?Was it a party?
“How many bathrooms did your apartment have in Providence?”Keme shouted from the billiard room.
