“You have to go, if she decides to send you away.”
Dennis stared at the bush, as if he wished the rabbit would materialize right then and there. But he knew she would not.
“Can you talk to her?” Dennis asked.
“I don’t think that will do any good.”
Dennis put his head in his arms. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“It’s for the best if you leave. Maybe you’ll get a good family. Maybe they’ll understand you.”
All Dennis heard was maybe, maybe. More likely he would be sentto strangers who would want what he could not give, and he would be away from Ralph and the rabbit, and he would never see them again for the rest of his life. As much as he hated holding time, he didn’t want to go to a new home. He wanted what he could not have: to be left alone with Ralph, the way it had been before. That was as good as his life had ever been.
“They won’t like me. I bite myself.”
Dennis showed him the fresh marks on his arms.
“I’ll never love new parents,” Dennis said. “It’s too late.”
“Don’t say that,” the custodian said, but he knew the boy was telling the truth. The only kind of family for a kid like Dennis was one with a great deal of understanding, and Ralph didn’t think homes like that existed. When Martha said she wanted to find Dennis a new home, it would probably be like the one Ralph had been sent to. A place with someone looking for free labor or for kids to abuse. There were foster families out there that made Martha look like a treat.
“I hate her,” Dennis said. “She thinks she took everything from me, but I still have my hate.”
In the shadows of the hall behind them, Martha King listened quietly. She turned and left, swiftly. The cook, clanging pots and pans in her kitchen, did not see her go.
“Dig there.”
Dennis woke from sleep, hearing the words outside. He jumped out of his bed and ran to the window. Below him, in the hazy first light of an early spring morning, was Martha.
Next to her was Ike Tressler. He was holding a shovel.
Hurrying into his shoes, Dennis ran down the stairs and out the open back door. Martha smiled to see him coming.
“What are you doing?” Dennis whispered.
“Shears,” she said, and Ike set down the shovel and picked up a pair of shears. Martha had told him they needed to get rid of a rabbit living behind the kitchen. Rabbits were vectors of disease, she had said. They carried ticks. Ike didn’t know if this was true, but he didn’t care either.
“Cut down that shrub,” she said.
“No,” Dennis whispered.
Ike began to cut down the bush. He started at the branches, which fell away. Dennis felt rooted to his spot. Martha kept smiling at him.
The pruning left a splintery, awful-looking trunk. Now the hole underneath was open to the world.
“That’s where the rabbit lives,” Martha said.
“I’ll do anything you want,” Dennis begged.
“It’s time to give up things that do not serve you, Dennis.”
“I won’t look at her anymore, ma’am—”
“When you are free from this unhealthy attachment, you will be free to love new parents.”
“You don’t need to hurt her.Please.”
“You are still holding on.”
