Edith shakily lifted her reading glasses that hung from her neck on a chain. She pushed them onto her nose and bent to read the paper.
‘TWO: The Wild Ones Annual Scavenger Hunt’
She looked at Trunk. “Are you a… Wild One?”
Trunk slapped his bicep and then moved his hand. “Yes, ma’am. Got all my letters, too.” Under the hand he moved was a tattoo that read, ‘TWO.’
Edith stared at his tattoo, remembering the ugly, seeping wet burn she’d seen on Mei’s arm. The girls had tried to nurse it. She hadn’t realized it then, but it did look like the number, ‘2.’ Her stomach turned as she realized that burn wasn’t just a burn. She’d been branded as one of theirs. Like cattle.
Her lip curled in disgust.
Trunk tapped the paper again. “Look at the highlighted stuff. See what we had?”
Edith leaned in again and read the bizarre list of items, including an African-American midget, a two-headed lizard, a convertible Hummer, a three-legged dog, five cases of Bacon Spam, a bald prostitute in a onesie, 5000 packs of McDonald’s ketchup, and other oddities. The highlighted items were:
Live piglet in a skirt.
One-handed hot Asian chick.
Sexy brunette twins or triplets; must be identical.
1957 red Chevy step-side truck; must run.
She looked up at Trunk and he met her wide eyes with a swarmy smile. “See? I need those girls. The twins and the Asian chick. And the truck.” He unclipped the picture of Gabby and Olivia from the map, unfolded it, and spread it out. It had a route highlighted from Myrtle Beach to York County, South Carolina. An “X” was marked across the city of Rock Hill. “The runt will just be a bonus for my personal pleasure.”
He’s talking about Emma.
“Now, what I need to know, is where in this county they were headed? What town exactly? Can’t tell if stops at York County in general, or the city of Rock Hill.”
Edith shook her head no. Her shoulders went up around her ears. Truly, she didn’t know. If they’d said, she hadn’t paid attention.
Trunk stalked back to Edith and leaned down into her face again. “No? No, what, Grandma? No, they don’t live in—”
“—Boss, there’s a fresh grave out here!” a voice interrupted, followed by the slamming of the screen door. One of the guys Edith had seen outside hurried in. He wore a patch on his vest with his name on it, too: Backfire. “That old lady down the road must’ve been right when she said she heard shootin’ and then a woman’s scream loud enough to wake the dead… ’cept the dead is still dead.”
Trunk raised his brows. “Oh?” He looked at Edith. “Who ya got out there pushing up daisies, Grandma?”
A dozen answers flashed through Edith’s head.
“Listen up, old woman. If you lie to me again, you’re going to have the number two sizzling on your own arm,” he warned.
Edith worried her lip and patted her bun. She looked at the floor and straightened her apron, and then she took a deep breath, looked him in the eye,
…and lied through her false teeth.
20
“What are you doing out of bed, Puck?” Graysie asked. She’d come in to clean and re-dress his wound, per instructions from Olivia.
Puck was hanging out the window, his arms around Jenny. The donkey nuzzled him affectionately, pulling her lips up in a smile to expose her big, square yellow teeth. “Look! Jenny came to my window! She misses me!” he said excitedly, rubbing her head. “She’s letting me touch her hair all I want.”
Ozzie sat at attention at his feet, repeatedly throwing up one paw, trying to shake with Puck, to steal his attention back from the beast outside. Puck was too overwhelmed with Jenny to even notice him.
Graysie flopped down on her bed, patting it for the dog to come. Ozzie jumped up beside her. “Come over here, Puck. Let me patch you up again.”
Puck pulled back from the window, a look of panic on his face. “I got another hole somewhere?” He ran his hands down his other arm, and then bent over to look at his legs, while Ozzie tilted his head left, then right, trying to determine the boy’s reason for alarm.
Graysie laughed. “No. Not another one. We just need to keep the one you do have clean.”
Puck shrugged. “It’s okay now. It barely hurts.”
There was no doubt he was tough. They could barely keep him in the bed. Repeatedly, he’d wandered out to the kitchen, bugging Olivia who was reading a book on foraging in the wilderness, doing her best to try to undo her mistake of giving away their food. He’d begged Olivia to read it to him, and she’d refused, doing more studying of the pictures of trees, plants and flowers, than reading.
“You still need to rest, Puck,” Graysie answered. “Olivia sent me in here to take care of you. When we’re done, you can read a book. You wouldn’t be interested in the one that she’s reading, I promise.”
Puck moved to the bed and climbed back into his spot, sitting up straight. “I can’t read a book,” he said sadly.
“You don’t know how to read?”
“I do so! But I see two lines up close when I try to read. I get confused and my head hurts. Sometimes my head hurts really bad. But I try not to cry,” he explained. “I can see far away real good.”
Graysie shrugged. “Okay. I’ll read to you, then.”
“Do you have Harry Potter?”
“I do, but not here. I have all sorts of books that you’d like if you’re a Harry Potter fan, but they’re either packed up somewhere, or at my dorm at college. All I have here are those.” She pointed to a shelf that was decorated with an old stuffed Winnie the Pooh Bear, leaned against a row of Pooh books. “Olivia did that. She thinks it looks cute. I haven’t read them in years,” she denied.
Puck turned his nose up. “I’m too big for Winnie the Pooh.” He pouted, sticking his lip out.
Well, then, why are you acting like you’re five? Graysie thought, but didn’t put real words to it. She was trying to be patient with Puck, but suddenly it was like she had a little brother. Not only was he completely obsessed with her dad—whom she really didn’t feel like sharing—but it was falling on her to entertain him.
What she wouldn’t give to have power again, so she could park him in front of Netflix for a while. “It’s either read Winnie the Pooh, or color some more pictures. Your choice,” she said firmly.
“Why can’t Olivia read Pooh, and we’ll read her book?” he asked. “I like trees and flowers.”
“Because Olivia is learning right now. She’s trying to figure out what we might find in the woods that we can eat, if we have to. If the power doesn’t come back on, we’ll need more food soon. You eat a lot, and so does Jenny. You want to be able to stick around here until your mom comes home, right? Well then, we have to feed you.”
Puck suddenly fell very quiet.
Graysie worked on his arm, and then scooted up in the bed with him, grabbing the first Winnie the Pooh book on the shelf. For the next thirty minutes, she read him the familiar tales of Pooh and his pals, nearly always ending with Pooh’s paw stuck in a big pot of honey.
Stifling a yawn, Puck waited until she read the last book on the stack. “All Pooh eats is honey. So that’s food, right?”