him.
“You know how to talk this way?” he asked. His cheeks freckled and cleared. The dapple patterns came and went quickly, and synchronized somehow with the irises of his eyes, his facial muscles, and little sounds he made deep in his throat. Stella watched, fascinated, but had no idea what he was doing, what he was trying to convey. “I guess not. What do you smell, little deer?”
Stella felt her nose burn. She drew back.
“Practically illiterate,” Will said, but his smile was sympathetic. “It’s the Talk. Kids in the woods made it up.”
Stella realized Will wanted to be in charge, wanted people to think he was smart and capable. There was a weakness in his scent, however, that made him seem very vulnerable.
He’s broken,
she thought.
Elvira moaned and called for her mother. Will knelt and touched the girl’s forehead. “Her parents hid her in an attic. That’s what the kids in the woods said. Her mom and dad left for California, and she stayed behind with her grandmother. Then the grandmother died. Elvira ran away. She got caught on the street. She was raped, I think, more than once.” He cleared his throat and his cheeks were dark with angry blood. “She had the start of this cold or whatever it is, so she couldn’t fever-scent and make them stop. Fred found her two days after he found me. He took some pictures. He keeps us here until he has enough to get a good bounty.”
“One million dollars a head,” Kevin said. “Dead or alive.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Will said. “I don’t know how much he gets, and they don’t pay if we’re dead. If we’re injured, he could even go to jail. That’s what I heard in the woods. The bounty is federal not state, so he tries to avoid the troopers.”
Stella was impressed by this show of knowledge. “It’s awful,” she said, her heart thumping. “I want to go home.”
“How did Fred catch you?” Will asked.
“I went for a walk,” Stella said.
“You ran away from home,” Will said. “Do your parents care?”
Stella thought of Kaye waking up to find her gone and wanted to cry. That made her nose hurt more, and her ears started to ache.
The wire mesh door rattled. Will pointed, and Kevin left to see what was going on. Stella glanced at Will and then followed Kevin. Mother Trinket was at the cage door. She had just finished shoving a cafeteria tray under the mesh frame. The tray held a paper plate covered with fried chicken backs and necks, a small scoop of dry potato salad, and several long spears of limp broccoli. The old woman watched them, eyes milky, chin withdrawn, strong mottled arms hanging like two birch logs.
“Yuck,” Kevin said, and picked up the tray. He gave it to Stella. “All yours,” he said.
“How’s the girl?” Mother Trinket asked.
“She’s really sick,” Kevin said.
“People coming. They’ll take care of her,” Mother Trinket said.
“What do you care?” Kevin asked.
The old woman blinked. “It’s my son,” she said, then turned and waddled through the door. She closed and locked it behind her.
The girl, Free Shape, was breathing in short, thick gasps as they carried Stella’s tray into the back room.
“She smells bad,” Mabel said. “I’m scared for her.”
“So am I,” Will said.
“Will is Papa here,” Mabel said. “Will should get help.”
Will looked miserably at Stella and fell back on the couch. Stella put the tray on a small folding table. She did not feel like eating. Both she and Kevin squatted by Elvira. Stella stroked the girl’s cheeks, making her freckles pale. They remained pale. The patches had steadied in the last few minutes, and were now even more meaningless and vague.
“Can we make her feel better?” Stella asked.
“We’re not angels,” Will said.
“My mother says we all have minds deep inside of us,” Stella said, desperate to find some answer. “Minds that talk to each other through chemicals and—”
“What the hell does she know?” Will
“You know how to talk this way?” he asked. His cheeks freckled and cleared. The dapple patterns came and went quickly, and synchronized somehow with the irises of his eyes, his facial muscles, and little sounds he made deep in his throat. Stella watched, fascinated, but had no idea what he was doing, what he was trying to convey. “I guess not. What do you smell, little deer?”
Stella felt her nose burn. She drew back.
“Practically illiterate,” Will said, but his smile was sympathetic. “It’s the Talk. Kids in the woods made it up.”
Stella realized Will wanted to be in charge, wanted people to think he was smart and capable. There was a weakness in his scent, however, that made him seem very vulnerable.
He’s broken,
she thought.
Elvira moaned and called for her mother. Will knelt and touched the girl’s forehead. “Her parents hid her in an attic. That’s what the kids in the woods said. Her mom and dad left for California, and she stayed behind with her grandmother. Then the grandmother died. Elvira ran away. She got caught on the street. She was raped, I think, more than once.” He cleared his throat and his cheeks were dark with angry blood. “She had the start of this cold or whatever it is, so she couldn’t fever-scent and make them stop. Fred found her two days after he found me. He took some pictures. He keeps us here until he has enough to get a good bounty.”
“One million dollars a head,” Kevin said. “Dead or alive.”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Will said. “I don’t know how much he gets, and they don’t pay if we’re dead. If we’re injured, he could even go to jail. That’s what I heard in the woods. The bounty is federal not state, so he tries to avoid the troopers.”
Stella was impressed by this show of knowledge. “It’s awful,” she said, her heart thumping. “I want to go home.”
“How did Fred catch you?” Will asked.
“I went for a walk,” Stella said.
“You ran away from home,” Will said. “Do your parents care?”
Stella thought of Kaye waking up to find her gone and wanted to cry. That made her nose hurt more, and her ears started to ache.
The wire mesh door rattled. Will pointed, and Kevin left to see what was going on. Stella glanced at Will and then followed Kevin. Mother Trinket was at the cage door. She had just finished shoving a cafeteria tray under the mesh frame. The tray held a paper plate covered with fried chicken backs and necks, a small scoop of dry potato salad, and several long spears of limp broccoli. The old woman watched them, eyes milky, chin withdrawn, strong mottled arms hanging like two birch logs.
“Yuck,” Kevin said, and picked up the tray. He gave it to Stella. “All yours,” he said.
“How’s the girl?” Mother Trinket asked.
“She’s really sick,” Kevin said.
“People coming. They’ll take care of her,” Mother Trinket said.
“What do you care?” Kevin asked.
The old woman blinked. “It’s my son,” she said, then turned and waddled through the door. She closed and locked it behind her.
The girl, Free Shape, was breathing in short, thick gasps as they carried Stella’s tray into the back room.
“She smells bad,” Mabel said. “I’m scared for her.”
“So am I,” Will said.
“Will is Papa here,” Mabel said. “Will should get help.”
Will looked miserably at Stella and fell back on the couch. Stella put the tray on a small folding table. She did not feel like eating. Both she and Kevin squatted by Elvira. Stella stroked the girl’s cheeks, making her freckles pale. They remained pale. The patches had steadied in the last few minutes, and were now even more meaningless and vague.
“Can we make her feel better?” Stella asked.
“We’re not angels,” Will said.
“My mother says we all have minds deep inside of us,” Stella said, desperate to find some answer. “Minds that talk to each other through chemicals and—”
“What the hell does she know?” Will
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