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Cries of the Children(32)

By:Clare McNally


“You’re lucky,” she said. “You don’t have to go to Mass. I think church is boring.”

Steven sat up on the bed.

“I think I’d like church,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess you would,” Tati said almost accusingly. “You probably know all the music.”

She opened her drawers and put an outfit together.

“Can you go away?” she asked. “I don’t want any boy looking at me when I’m getting dressed!”

“Sorry,” Steven said, getting up from the bed.

He found his suitcase and pulled out some clothes. When he’d been found a few days earlier, he’d had this suitcase with him and little else. He took his clothes into the bathroom and dressed.

When he came out, Rachel was standing in the hall. She had a beige suit on, with a brown-and-yellow print blouse. The jacket lapel was decorated with a golden musical note. Steven noticed she held a pile of sheet music in her arms.

“I sing in the choir,” she said.

“Can I come along?”

“Not this time, Steven,” Rachel said. “I think meeting all those people would be too overwhelming. But don’t worry, Helga is here if you need anything.”

From downstairs Olivia called to her mother and sister.

“Tati! Mama! Hurry! Daddy’s waiting!”

Tatiana raced by Rachel and Steven like a small tornado.

Rachel smiled at Steven.

“We’ll be back in about an hour,” she said. “Just enjoy yourself. The backyard is plenty big enough for exploring.”

After Rachel left, Steven went to the kitchen and had breakfast.

“Please don’t dillydally,” Helga said. “I have much to do, and I am not used to having a boy in the house.”

“Mrs. Freleng said I can play outside,” Steven said.

“This is good,” Helga said with a nod.

Steven finished his breakfast quickly, sensing she didn’t want him underfoot. There were plenty of outdoor toys to enjoy, but after a while he grew bored with them. He felt very lonely, and in his solitude he recalled the fight Rachel and Eric had had.

He couldn’t drive their words from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe he could play music. . . .

No, Helga had made it clear he was to stay away.

At that moment he heard an unusual bird dry. Curious about what creature would make such a melodious sound, he decided to investigate the woods that marked the farther boundary of the huge backyard.

The pine scent of evergreens was laced through with the smell of spring blossoms. Steven was able to identify a number of scents separately, although he did not do this consciously. His brain registered juniper, blue spruce, lilacs, heather, and more. But there was one that did not seem to belong here: an unpleasant, burnt smell.

At once Steven knew what it must be: fire. He broke into a run, tracking the scent as easily as a hunting dog. It was a physical ability like his penchant for math and music, and he did it without much thought. He stopped short in a small clearing, where a boy who seemed to be a little older than he sat smoking. The boy turned around so fast that Steven stepped back.

“Get lost!” the boy demanded.

Steven stared at the cigarette, not exactly sure what it was. The boy sucked on it and the tip glowed red.

“You’re going to start a fire,” Steven said.

“I said ‘get lost,’ “ the boy, Ralphie Mercken, snapped. “It’s none of your effin’ business what I do.”

Steven wouldn’t be put off.

“But what are you doing?” he asked, curious. “What’s that thing in your hand?”

“Well, it sure as hell ain’t my . . .”

Ralphie stopped, looked down at the cigarette, then back at Steven in disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Steven shook his head.

“What are you, dumb or something?” he asked, “It’s a cigarette, stupid.”

He flicked the butt onto the ground.

“And this,” he said, indicating the clearing, “is my private place. So just turn yourself around and get out.”

Steven thought about it, then shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I think this is still the Freleng’s property. So you’re the one who must leave.”

Ralphie came up to Steven with his fists balled. He stood a head taller and weighed at least twenty pounds more than the younger boy.

“Are you gonna make me?”

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Steven by the shirt collar and lifted the boy until they were nose-to-nose. Steven did not waste a moment. In one fluid motion he brought his fists down on both of the boy’s shoulders, and his knee up into the bully’s groin. Ralphie screamed, letting him go. Steven backed away and watched him thrash on the ground, amazed at what he had just done.