What are you?He squinted, trying to figure out with his brain what his hands already knew. Long and twisted, like a woman’s—
A thump behind him had Luc turning and rising from his seat in one tense motion. Le Dog growled by his side, and Luc’s hand was already tight around the dull carving knife. The piece of wood dropped to the floor with a thud. There, at his curtainless kitchen door, was a face, bright and demonic.
Without hesitation, Luc yanked open the door and prepared to yell at the idiot who’d broken his peace.
“Grape Man!” the kid said too loudly.
Luc blinked.
“I’m Sammy!” Not a kid. A man.
“You’reSammy?” A harsh sound escaped Luc’s throat, and he realized with a shock that he was laughing. Jesus. This wasn’t at all the person he’d pictured. Everything fell into place for Luc.Trisomie… What was that in English? Down syndrome. That was it. Abby hadn’t mentioned that, had she?
During his moment of hesitation, Sammy enveloped Luc in an uncomfortably personal hug.
Luc pushed away.Space, I need space.“What are y—”
“It’s Abby. She said come here.” He was out of breath and hard to understand. “There’s a hole in the fence, and then I ran. It’s hide-and-seek, ’cept I fell on the hill, it’s so big. Got right back up and kept runnin’. It’s the biggest game. Bigger than the fence this time. I ran.”
“Abby told you to comehere?” The boy nodded. “Where isshe?”
“She’s comin’.” Sammy, who still stood in the wide-open door, turned to peer out into the night. Meanwhile, cold air poured inside.
For a few long seconds, Luc stood there, stunned. “Where is she, Sammy?” He looked over Sammy’s shoulder, hoping that she would materialize and save him from this intrusion.
“Might be a while. Dogs and flashlights comin’ over the hill and— Oh, hello, Rodeo!” Sammy walked farther into the kitchen and got onto his knees in front of Le Dog. “You’re here, too! We’re all here, in the same place!”
“Except for Abby. You said she’s coming, but—”
“Yessiree! She’ll be here. She’ll come.” Sammy bent and picked up the wood Luc had dropped. “It’s a hand!” Luc blinked again, surprised. Yes, that was a hand emerging, attached to what would be a fragile-looking wrist, twisting off to disappear right before the crook of an elbow, delicate but capable. Luc had barely carved at it, so how could the kid possibly see all of that? Or did it just mean that Luc was blind to what he created?
Blind. That seemed about right. Like his hands could feel it before his brain knew what they were doing. Like Braille, he needed his body to interpret before his mind kicked in. Exactly like pruning vines. Thinking too hard destroyed the process.
He blinked at the tight feeling in the front of his head.
The man or kid or…Sammy had a way of moving into a space, sliding in so you barely noticed until suddenly you were in your living room and you’d never agreed to that at all. This was not all right. “She’ll be here soon.” Sammy looked around, eyes innocent in their curiosity. “Where’s all your stuff?”
“Stuff?”
“You know, like home stuff.”
Taken aback, Luc squinted at the space with a fresh perspective. It was sparse, he supposed. But what did he need things for? They just got in the way.
“Got nothing on the walls. No cushions or—oh, hey! You got electricity. In your house!”
In my house. My house. He’s in my house.Overcome by panic, Luc tried to corral him. Maybe he could convince him to go back outside. On the porch, perhaps, where this boy’s presence wouldn’t feel so enormous.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” Luc asked helplessly.
“Abby’ll tell us.”
Wonderful. “But she isn’t here. You need to leave. Go back, please.”
Sammy looked crestfallen. “But you’re my friend.”
He ignored the weight those words placed on his shoulders and asked, “How old are you?”
“Nineteen.”
