Alice Hoffman by Turtle Moon

Author:Turtle Moon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-30T14:57:49+00:00

And now there he is, out in the tall grass. To Miss Giles it looks as if he’s studying weeds, but the boy is simply considering his options.

He can’t help but wonder if there’s a man somewhere in town who would like to kill him. He’s sure that the man who watched them run across the parking lot that night got into his car all set to follow them.

He remembers the white moon of the man’s face reflected in a windshield; he may have seen a line of blood on the man’s shirt.

Although he’s not certain about the blood, he gets all shaky just thinking about it. Would he be able to recognize this man in a lineup?

He doesn’t know, but he’s fairly certain that the man would be able to pick him out in a crowd. The boy has no idea of how he could disguise himself; all he can think to do is to take the skull earring out of his earlobe and throw it, as far as he can, till it disappears into the tall grass.

The baby is wearing a red sundress Miss Giles has kept stored in a dresser drawer. Her hair has been washed and brushed and she’s got on white sandals that Miss Giles found high up on a shelf in the front closet. She keeps one hand on the boy’s ankle while she pulls up blades of grass and pats them into a pile. The boy is as sure as he can be that her face was hidden that night. She was leaning against him, and it was so dark no one could have identified her features. No one could know her mouth was a little crooked when she smiled, or that she had a small scar on one knee, or that when she insisted on holding your hand in hot weather your palm got all sweaty.

The baby can’t know what’s happened to them; all she knows is that they’re in this together. The boy can feel her watching him for a signal: Should they run or stay? Should they eat the cereal they’re offered or spit it out? By now, Laddy Stern has probably got himself a new best friend, since they never meant that much to each other anyway.

He figures that a thousand miles from here on the street where he grew up, the boys have all forgotten his name. He thinks of his mother, and for some reason he’s reminded of a night soon after they moved to Florida when he lay in bed, in despair, wanting desperately to call out for her and not allowing himself to. Now he couldn’t call out if he wanted to. It’s a punishment, that’s what he thinks; he’s said so many awful words that his wicked tongue is paralyzed. He’s actually grateful that the baby can’t really speak; not one horrible word has come out of her mouth. She doesn’t have to wish she could take it all back.

The meanest boy in Verity watches dust, dragonflies, low white clouds above him in the sky.

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