next to her.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Katharine, already concentrating on the nearly buried bones, hardly heard him, and several seconds passed before she answered his question.
Seconds during which a strange feeling gripped her.
Though she had no clear idea why, and though she could barely see them yet, she was certain that there was something wrong with these bones.
Something very wrong.
CHAPTER
6
“You’re sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Katharine asked.
Michael stifled a groan. It had been bad enough on Friday, when she insisted on going with him to the school to register. It wasn’t like it was any big deal—all he had to do was fill out a couple of forms, and then they transferred all his records from New York through the computer. She’d only had to sign one form, and he could have brought it home, had her sign it over the weekend, and taken it back this morning. But no—she’d had to stand there peering over his shoulder like he was in the fourth grade or something, while all the kids who’d come into the office stared at him like he was some kind of geek who couldn’t even get himself into school without his mommy holding his hand.
And now she wanted to drive him to school on the first day.
“I think I can walk to the bus stop, Mom,” he said. “It’s right at the end of the driveway, remember?”
“Just asking,” Katharine told him, glancing at the clock and picking up her backpack. “I can drop you at the bus stop if you’re ready.”
Michael shook his head. “I’ve got half an hour before the bus.”
“Then you can clean up the kitchen, okay? And I’ll see you tonight.” Kissing him on the cheek, she made her exit before Michael had a chance to argue.
A moment later he heard the engine of the nearly worn-out car that Rob Silver had loaned them grinding in protest as she tried to start it. For a minute it sounded as if the battery was going to give up before the engine caught, but then he saw a great puff of exhaust burst from the tailpipe, and the battered four-wheel-drive Explorer jerked down the drive toward the road.
Finally safe from the embarrassment of having his mother drive him to school, Michael cleaned up the breakfast dishes, ignored the mess in his room, stuffed his gym clothes, running shoes, and a notebook into his book bag, and got to the end of the driveway just as a mud-streaked yellow bus appeared around the uphill bend.
Climbing onto the bus, he spotted an empty seat near the back of the crowded vehicle and started down the aisle.
He felt every eye on the bus watching him.
Watching him, and sizing him up.
He could almost hear the word that was going through their minds:
Haole.
“White.”
Josh Malani had warned him it was going to happen. “Some of the kids even got a special day here,” he’d said on Saturday while giving Michael his first lesson in body surfing. “Kill a
haole
day. ’Course they don’t actually kill guys with skin like yours. They just sorta try to change its color. Make it black and blue, instead of white.”
“You’re kidding,” Michael had replied, though he was pretty sure Josh wasn’t kidding.
Josh shrugged. “Hey, you guys came out here and stole everything, and ran everything your way for a couple hundred years. Times have changed.”
Still, Michael had hoped Josh wasn’t serious.
Now he knew he was.
Walking down the aisle, he suddenly felt like he was back in New York, with Slotzky looking for an opportunity to pick a fight. Except now there were half a dozen Slotzkys just on this bus, and God only knew how many waiting for him at school.
Should he look them straight in the eye?
That was the last thing you ever wanted to do in New York. If someone was looking at you, you just looked the other way, avoiding any direct eye contact.
Meeting someone’s eyes was a challenge.
Better assume it was the same here, he decided. Keeping his eyes carefully on the floor ahead of him, Michael
“What do you think?” he asked.
Katharine, already concentrating on the nearly buried bones, hardly heard him, and several seconds passed before she answered his question.
Seconds during which a strange feeling gripped her.
Though she had no clear idea why, and though she could barely see them yet, she was certain that there was something wrong with these bones.
Something very wrong.
CHAPTER
6
“You’re sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Katharine asked.
Michael stifled a groan. It had been bad enough on Friday, when she insisted on going with him to the school to register. It wasn’t like it was any big deal—all he had to do was fill out a couple of forms, and then they transferred all his records from New York through the computer. She’d only had to sign one form, and he could have brought it home, had her sign it over the weekend, and taken it back this morning. But no—she’d had to stand there peering over his shoulder like he was in the fourth grade or something, while all the kids who’d come into the office stared at him like he was some kind of geek who couldn’t even get himself into school without his mommy holding his hand.
And now she wanted to drive him to school on the first day.
“I think I can walk to the bus stop, Mom,” he said. “It’s right at the end of the driveway, remember?”
“Just asking,” Katharine told him, glancing at the clock and picking up her backpack. “I can drop you at the bus stop if you’re ready.”
Michael shook his head. “I’ve got half an hour before the bus.”
“Then you can clean up the kitchen, okay? And I’ll see you tonight.” Kissing him on the cheek, she made her exit before Michael had a chance to argue.
A moment later he heard the engine of the nearly worn-out car that Rob Silver had loaned them grinding in protest as she tried to start it. For a minute it sounded as if the battery was going to give up before the engine caught, but then he saw a great puff of exhaust burst from the tailpipe, and the battered four-wheel-drive Explorer jerked down the drive toward the road.
Finally safe from the embarrassment of having his mother drive him to school, Michael cleaned up the breakfast dishes, ignored the mess in his room, stuffed his gym clothes, running shoes, and a notebook into his book bag, and got to the end of the driveway just as a mud-streaked yellow bus appeared around the uphill bend.
Climbing onto the bus, he spotted an empty seat near the back of the crowded vehicle and started down the aisle.
He felt every eye on the bus watching him.
Watching him, and sizing him up.
He could almost hear the word that was going through their minds:
Haole.
“White.”
Josh Malani had warned him it was going to happen. “Some of the kids even got a special day here,” he’d said on Saturday while giving Michael his first lesson in body surfing. “Kill a
haole
day. ’Course they don’t actually kill guys with skin like yours. They just sorta try to change its color. Make it black and blue, instead of white.”
“You’re kidding,” Michael had replied, though he was pretty sure Josh wasn’t kidding.
Josh shrugged. “Hey, you guys came out here and stole everything, and ran everything your way for a couple hundred years. Times have changed.”
Still, Michael had hoped Josh wasn’t serious.
Now he knew he was.
Walking down the aisle, he suddenly felt like he was back in New York, with Slotzky looking for an opportunity to pick a fight. Except now there were half a dozen Slotzkys just on this bus, and God only knew how many waiting for him at school.
Should he look them straight in the eye?
That was the last thing you ever wanted to do in New York. If someone was looking at you, you just looked the other way, avoiding any direct eye contact.
Meeting someone’s eyes was a challenge.
Better assume it was the same here, he decided. Keeping his eyes carefully on the floor ahead of him, Michael
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