were already grubby, and she was wearing a pink T-shirt with frilled sleeves that seemed very un-Titch-like.
Art put his hands on his narrow hips. “What the fu—” Charlie smacked him on the arm and shot him a warning look. “What the…fiddle are you doing here?” he demanded. He obviously felt some of the impact had been ruined, so he added, “Young lady.”
Titch just rolled her eyes at him and continued to gnaw at her granola bar.
He strode over and snatched it out of her hand. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Why aren’t you back in Cottonwood with your folks? Did you run away again ? Are you trying to show me up in front of the Chief?”
Titch glared at him with hurt in her eyes, then shrugged and said, in a chipper, cheerful voice that wasn’t fooling anyone, “I decided to join the travelling circus. They said no thanks. They said they’d already got one and it was too difficult to train.”
He pointed a commanding finger at her and brought out the big guns. “Indica Indigo-Ch—”
She threw up her hands. “Okay, okay. No need to fight dirty.” She looked at her granola bar, sighed, and set the rest of it down on the rock. She was a picture of misery.
Art sat on the rock next to her. He looked weary, Charlie noticed, with faint purple shadows under his dark eyes. “Titch,” he said, “we’re not stupid. And you’re not crazy – at least not the kind of crazy that would make you prefer sleeping in an alley full of rats in No Man’s Land to a nice warm bed in Cottonwood.”
Charlie knotted the blanket to secure it, and took the girl’s hand. The look on Titch’s face was mutinous, and from her body language she looked absolutely furious – which Charlie thought meant she was probably on the verge of tears. “You didn’t run away, did you?” she said. “When your mom met her mate and they had cubs, they moved to Cottonwood and left you alone in Darwin.”
Titch pulled her hand away and wiped angrily at her eyes. “They don’t want me and I don’t want them, okay? I’m better off without them.”
Charlie could have cried for her – except she knew that would just hurt her pride. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Titch jumped to her feet. “Tell you what? That as soon as my mom got married, she wasn’t interested in me anymore? She just wanted to move to Cottonwood and live happily ever after with the new babies. Marco – that’s the loser she married – said he didn’t want some human kid hanging around, eating him out of house and home. Well, I guess you know how he feels, because you don’t want me either.”
Charlie and Art exchanged dismayed glances.
“Hey now,” said Art. “Let’s not be hasty. What happened in Cottonwood?” His voice was gentle, but he added, “And I don’t mean pirates or mer-sharks or circuses. There’s only one dancing bear in these parts.” He did a little bop on the spot.
Titch smiled bleakly. “More like a clown,” she said, unable to resist the easy jab, but there wasn’t a lot of spirit in it.
“So what happened?” Art prompted her.
Titch shook her head. “That lady, Sarah – the one who looked like she ironed her undies” – Charlie had to grin; it described the Chief’s secretary perfectly – “pulled some strings. She found out Marco’s in jail, for DUI or A&B or being an asshole or something.”
“I don’t think that’s a crime,” said Art.
“Well it should be,” said Titch. Charlie couldn’t disagree. “Mom left the Badlands with the babies – or left Cottonwood, anyway. Didn’t even leave a forwarding address.” She kicked the rock she was sitting on, viciously. “At least she took them with her. Until the next handsome asshole comes along and wants her to get rid of them, anyway.”
Art frowned. “Does the Chief know about this?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” Titch replied. “And Sarah said he’ll keep on looking for my mom. Well actually, she said” —she adopted
Art put his hands on his narrow hips. “What the fu—” Charlie smacked him on the arm and shot him a warning look. “What the…fiddle are you doing here?” he demanded. He obviously felt some of the impact had been ruined, so he added, “Young lady.”
Titch just rolled her eyes at him and continued to gnaw at her granola bar.
He strode over and snatched it out of her hand. “Hey,” he said. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Why aren’t you back in Cottonwood with your folks? Did you run away again ? Are you trying to show me up in front of the Chief?”
Titch glared at him with hurt in her eyes, then shrugged and said, in a chipper, cheerful voice that wasn’t fooling anyone, “I decided to join the travelling circus. They said no thanks. They said they’d already got one and it was too difficult to train.”
He pointed a commanding finger at her and brought out the big guns. “Indica Indigo-Ch—”
She threw up her hands. “Okay, okay. No need to fight dirty.” She looked at her granola bar, sighed, and set the rest of it down on the rock. She was a picture of misery.
Art sat on the rock next to her. He looked weary, Charlie noticed, with faint purple shadows under his dark eyes. “Titch,” he said, “we’re not stupid. And you’re not crazy – at least not the kind of crazy that would make you prefer sleeping in an alley full of rats in No Man’s Land to a nice warm bed in Cottonwood.”
Charlie knotted the blanket to secure it, and took the girl’s hand. The look on Titch’s face was mutinous, and from her body language she looked absolutely furious – which Charlie thought meant she was probably on the verge of tears. “You didn’t run away, did you?” she said. “When your mom met her mate and they had cubs, they moved to Cottonwood and left you alone in Darwin.”
Titch pulled her hand away and wiped angrily at her eyes. “They don’t want me and I don’t want them, okay? I’m better off without them.”
Charlie could have cried for her – except she knew that would just hurt her pride. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Titch jumped to her feet. “Tell you what? That as soon as my mom got married, she wasn’t interested in me anymore? She just wanted to move to Cottonwood and live happily ever after with the new babies. Marco – that’s the loser she married – said he didn’t want some human kid hanging around, eating him out of house and home. Well, I guess you know how he feels, because you don’t want me either.”
Charlie and Art exchanged dismayed glances.
“Hey now,” said Art. “Let’s not be hasty. What happened in Cottonwood?” His voice was gentle, but he added, “And I don’t mean pirates or mer-sharks or circuses. There’s only one dancing bear in these parts.” He did a little bop on the spot.
Titch smiled bleakly. “More like a clown,” she said, unable to resist the easy jab, but there wasn’t a lot of spirit in it.
“So what happened?” Art prompted her.
Titch shook her head. “That lady, Sarah – the one who looked like she ironed her undies” – Charlie had to grin; it described the Chief’s secretary perfectly – “pulled some strings. She found out Marco’s in jail, for DUI or A&B or being an asshole or something.”
“I don’t think that’s a crime,” said Art.
“Well it should be,” said Titch. Charlie couldn’t disagree. “Mom left the Badlands with the babies – or left Cottonwood, anyway. Didn’t even leave a forwarding address.” She kicked the rock she was sitting on, viciously. “At least she took them with her. Until the next handsome asshole comes along and wants her to get rid of them, anyway.”
Art frowned. “Does the Chief know about this?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” Titch replied. “And Sarah said he’ll keep on looking for my mom. Well actually, she said” —she adopted
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