Page 59

On Thursday, the police came. Mrs. Brown got to the door before Hollis could, and they lumbered inside.

Hollis could feel Walt’s hackles rising and it was...

Hollis realized that he hadn’t felt Walt feeling anything bad before. Walt’s emotions were muted at the best of times, like being touched through a blanket. It was only now that Hollis realized how careful Walt had been to keep things light and give Hollis a blank tapestry to project his own feelings of terror and anger.

But now he was anxious and irritated. Frightened in a way that felt old.

Calm down.

Don’t tell me what to do, Walt snapped.

Cute. Let me handle this. I can talk to cops.

We don’t have time for lessons about that, just... hush up and let me think.

“Hollis?” Mrs. Brown called. “Can you come here, please?”

Walt’s panic was sharp and involuntary. Hollis tried something new.

Go downstairs. I’m not asking, Hollis barked, authoritative.

Despair washed over them like a wave, but Walt obeyed and opened Hollis’s bedroom door.

The police didn’t look impressed at the wait. They were older men, hands around the mugs of coffee Mrs. Brown had poured them, a stack of documents in the center of the table.

“Man of the hour,” one of them said sarcastically. He was short and had a thick mustache.

“What do you want?” Walt snapped.

“Hollis,” Mrs. Brown hissed.

The taller officer raised an eyebrow but didn’t take the bait.

“We need you to sign off on these forms. Tracks were found at the Rose Town pond and the back door to the property was inaccessible due to significant rusting. Nothing came in or out of that basement that didn’t make it in through the front door,” he said. “Not even you.”

Walt snatched up the paper and read it quickly.

“Don’t know what that kid did down there, who he pissed off, but it certainly wasn’t your boy, Sheila,” the man was saying.

Walt leaned over the table and picked up the pen.

Sign.

Suddenly Hollis had access to his fingers. Not even the entire hand, just the fingers.

What the fuck... ?

There had to be some sort of leverage Hollis could get out of this. He thought quickly.

“Right there, boy, we don’t have all day,” the officer barked.

If I sign this, you have to promise not to hit on Yulia. Ever again. Any of my friends actually.

Done, Walt said without hesitation. Do it.

It was hard to write; it felt like he had a plaster cast on the rest of his arm, but Hollis managed.

The officers picked up the paperwork and drained the rest of the coffee from their cups.

“Thank you for the coffee, hon,” the tall officer said as he rested a hand on Mrs. Brown’s shoulder, familiar and imposing. “You tell that man of yours I said hi.”

Mrs. Brown was standing stiff, but she nodded and found her smile.

Their shoes tracked soil and grit across Walt’s freshly washed floors.

“And, Hollis? Get your ass back in school.” The door shut crisp. “Bright and early, Monday morning!”

Mrs. Brown flinched at the sound of their car door slamming before they peeled out of the road.

Hug her. Can’t you see she’s upset? You can’t just leave her like that.

Walt folded Hollis’s mother into his arms.