left my dad
… like, left-left him, and didn’t tel me, and
thought I wouldn’t notice that they weren’t
living together anymore, you know? In the
same state?”
“But I thought you came here to help your
grandmother.”
Abigail raised her eyebrows and shook her
head. “There’s always an ulterior motive with
my mom. She real y just needed a place to go.
Voilà—New Starkham, here we come!”
“Wow,” said Timothy. “That’s harsh.”
“That’s the truth. The funniest thing is that
she thinks she has me fooled, that I’m just so
young and gul ible.” She sni ed. “So why are
young and gul ible.” She sni ed. “So why are
your parents freaks?”
“They’re not freaks, exactly. They just don’t
real y seem to know how to talk to me.”
Abigail didn’t say anything. Before he knew it,
he blurted out, “My brother’s unit was at acked
overseas. He got hurt. Bad. They’re keeping
him in a coma, I think to protect his brain.”
Abigail shuddered and brought her hand to
her mouth. “He’s in the—what, the army?” she
asked. Timothy nodded. She grabbed his hand,
and he flinched. “I’m so sorry … I had no idea.”
“No—it’s—” Timothy stammered. “Nobody
did. That’s the thing … My parents didn’t want
me to tel anyone.”
“Why not? It’s public information anyway.
Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I think they felt ashamed. Like
his injury is their fault. They don’t want their
friends to blame them.”
“That alone is ridiculous, but what on earth
does that have to do with you?”
does that have to do with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t they thought that you might want
to, I dunno, talk about it with someone?”
Timothy shook his head. “Guess not.”
“I mean, ever since I moved here, al I’ve
wanted to do is talk to my cousins back in
Jersey about everything that’s happening. It’s
good that they listen on the phone, you know,
about Gramma, and Mom and Dad, but stil ,
there are things I feel like I can’t tel anyone …
not even them … and it’s kinda driving me
crazy.” Abigail blinked, as if she expected him
to ponder that last statement. “So I sort of
know what you’ve been going through.”
“Thanks,” said Timothy, secretly wondering
what it was that she couldn’t tel anyone.
Would she tel him now?
“So where is your brother?”
Guess not. “He’s in a military hospital
somewhere in Germany. He’s been … critical
for a while now. They say they’l send him
home when he’s healthy enough to travel, even
home when he’s healthy enough to travel, even
if he is unconscious,” said Timothy. Abigail was
staring at him again. Her head was slick with
purple goo. She looked funny. He smiled. After
a few seconds, he realized that he’d actual y
nal y told someone about his brother. It had
been easier than he thought it would be. “So …
what is it that you can’t tel anyone?”
Abigail glanced at the oor, her mouth
pursed. She actual y looked like she was
considering the answer, but then said, “Never
mind. It’s not important.”
17.
After they cleaned up, Abigail put on a plastic
bathing cap and led Timothy down the long
hal way to a smal room. The dark purple
wal s were entirely covered with black-and-
white photographs in black wooden frames.
“My grandmother was a photographer for a
local newspaper. Sometimes she wrote, but
mostly she just took pictures.” She pointed at
one picture that looked like owers of light,
blossoming in the night sky. “The Fourth of
July. Cool, huh?”
Timothy nodded.
Against the far wal was a twin-sized brass
trundle bed. They plopped down on the
mat ress, giggling at the way she looked.
Hepzibah leapt onto the bed too, circled a
smal spot in the corner several times, then lay
down.
down.
“Do you want to listen to some music?” said
Abigail. In the corner of the room was a low
bookcase, on top of which