before,” Zach said. “Do you know where the cemetery is? Do you know where we’re going, Poppy?”
“The grave is under a willow tree. Eleanor will tell us the rest.”
“Eleanor will tell us?” he asked in a quiet, urgent voice.
“She told me this much, didn’t she?” Poppy answered, and then in that way she had, where Zach was sure she wasn’t right yet somehow she seemed right, she added neatly and unanswerably, “If you didn’t believe me, why did you come?”
Exasperated, he mimed banging his head against the back of the seat. Poppy ignored him.
Alice leaned against the window and pulled her legs up onto the seat, resting one shoe against Zach’s leg. She looked exhausted, but no longer unhappy. “I’m going to try to sleep.”
He rested a hand on her ankle so it wouldn’t slip.
“We should take shifts,” Poppy said. “Keep watch. Like you’re supposed to on a quest. So we don’t miss our stop.”
“Okay,” Zach said, sticking out a fisted hand. “Rock, paper, scissors.”
Alice held out her hand and blinked muzzily, like she was trying to stay awake. She still beat him, throwing rock to his scissors. He stuck with scissors and tricked Poppy, who threw paper, expecting him to change moves. And then Alice beat Poppy, sticking Poppy with first watch, Zach with second, and Alice, third. Zach rested his head against his own backpack and closed his eyes.
He didn’t think he’d be able to go to sleep, but he must have dozed off, because it seemed like moments later he awoke to Poppy’s sharp yelp.
He sat up. The old guy who’d been talking to himself had moved to the seat in front of them. He was leaning close to Poppy and just letting go of a strand of her hair.
“I was just kidding you. Come on, you’re a cute little thing. Ain’t you used to being teased?” His bad breath washed over Zach, bringing with it a moldering smell, like wet clothes left in the washing machine overnight and sneakers after a long game. His hair was wild tangled curls, shot through with gray, and he had a scraggly beard hiding half of his windblown face. Nicotine stains darkened the ends of his pale fingers. “That your brother? Don’t he tease you?”
“Yes, he’s my brother,” Poppy lied quickly. “And he doesn’t like it if I talk to strangers.”
He cackled, revealing a black gap where a few bottom teeth should have been. He turned his attention to Zach. “I was just telling your smart-mouth little sister here that you can’t be sure this bus is going to take you where you want to go.” He sounded teasing all right, but in a bad way. A scary way. “That bus driver—you can’t trust him. He’s senile as a moose. And sometimes he gets aliens in him.”
Alice shifted and opened her eyes, blinking away dreams. When she saw the old guy, her eyes went wide and she grabbed for her bag. “What’s going on?”
“Okay,” Zach told the man, leaning forward, trying to get between him and Poppy. His father would say that as the boy, it was his responsibility to protect the girls. That made him even more scared, because he was afraid he’d let them down. “Thanks for the advice.”
The old guy’s grin widened. “Oh, the little man is going to give Tinshoe Jones the brush-off. You want to fight? You want to show off for them girls? And who is that one over there? She’s no sister of yours. Just what is it that you three are doing, anyway? Running off from home?”
Alice leaned forward. “We’re not doing anything.”
“Look, we appreciate you coming over and talking with us,” Poppy said placatingly. “But if that’s all—”
“Senile as all get out.” Tinshoe tapped his head and made a swirly motion with his finger, returning to what seemed to be his favorite subject—the bus driver. “Crazy as anything. Sometimes he gets a little lost. Sometimes he just parks and gets out of the bus, wanders around for a while. And sometimes he has meetings with them—them things . In their
“The grave is under a willow tree. Eleanor will tell us the rest.”
“Eleanor will tell us?” he asked in a quiet, urgent voice.
“She told me this much, didn’t she?” Poppy answered, and then in that way she had, where Zach was sure she wasn’t right yet somehow she seemed right, she added neatly and unanswerably, “If you didn’t believe me, why did you come?”
Exasperated, he mimed banging his head against the back of the seat. Poppy ignored him.
Alice leaned against the window and pulled her legs up onto the seat, resting one shoe against Zach’s leg. She looked exhausted, but no longer unhappy. “I’m going to try to sleep.”
He rested a hand on her ankle so it wouldn’t slip.
“We should take shifts,” Poppy said. “Keep watch. Like you’re supposed to on a quest. So we don’t miss our stop.”
“Okay,” Zach said, sticking out a fisted hand. “Rock, paper, scissors.”
Alice held out her hand and blinked muzzily, like she was trying to stay awake. She still beat him, throwing rock to his scissors. He stuck with scissors and tricked Poppy, who threw paper, expecting him to change moves. And then Alice beat Poppy, sticking Poppy with first watch, Zach with second, and Alice, third. Zach rested his head against his own backpack and closed his eyes.
He didn’t think he’d be able to go to sleep, but he must have dozed off, because it seemed like moments later he awoke to Poppy’s sharp yelp.
He sat up. The old guy who’d been talking to himself had moved to the seat in front of them. He was leaning close to Poppy and just letting go of a strand of her hair.
“I was just kidding you. Come on, you’re a cute little thing. Ain’t you used to being teased?” His bad breath washed over Zach, bringing with it a moldering smell, like wet clothes left in the washing machine overnight and sneakers after a long game. His hair was wild tangled curls, shot through with gray, and he had a scraggly beard hiding half of his windblown face. Nicotine stains darkened the ends of his pale fingers. “That your brother? Don’t he tease you?”
“Yes, he’s my brother,” Poppy lied quickly. “And he doesn’t like it if I talk to strangers.”
He cackled, revealing a black gap where a few bottom teeth should have been. He turned his attention to Zach. “I was just telling your smart-mouth little sister here that you can’t be sure this bus is going to take you where you want to go.” He sounded teasing all right, but in a bad way. A scary way. “That bus driver—you can’t trust him. He’s senile as a moose. And sometimes he gets aliens in him.”
Alice shifted and opened her eyes, blinking away dreams. When she saw the old guy, her eyes went wide and she grabbed for her bag. “What’s going on?”
“Okay,” Zach told the man, leaning forward, trying to get between him and Poppy. His father would say that as the boy, it was his responsibility to protect the girls. That made him even more scared, because he was afraid he’d let them down. “Thanks for the advice.”
The old guy’s grin widened. “Oh, the little man is going to give Tinshoe Jones the brush-off. You want to fight? You want to show off for them girls? And who is that one over there? She’s no sister of yours. Just what is it that you three are doing, anyway? Running off from home?”
Alice leaned forward. “We’re not doing anything.”
“Look, we appreciate you coming over and talking with us,” Poppy said placatingly. “But if that’s all—”
“Senile as all get out.” Tinshoe tapped his head and made a swirly motion with his finger, returning to what seemed to be his favorite subject—the bus driver. “Crazy as anything. Sometimes he gets a little lost. Sometimes he just parks and gets out of the bus, wanders around for a while. And sometimes he has meetings with them—them things . In their
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