Children of Exile by Margaret Peterson Haddix Page B

plane to the parents’ house. I thought about the people I’d seen at the cinder-block church that morning.
    â€œNo,” I said. “I haven’t.”
    Edwy turned to face me directly.
    â€œIt wouldn’t be just a coincidence for no babies to be born in my ginormous family for thirteen years,” he said. “Or in this entire town. Something happened. What was it? What happened to all the kids who were little kids when we were born?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
    â€œI don’t know,” I told Edwy. “I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out.”
    Edwy kept his eyes on me.
    â€œGood,” he said fiercely.
    Maybe we looked at each other too long. Maybe there was too much we weren’t saying. But suddenly it was weird again between Edwy and me. I scrambled to my feet.
    â€œI’ve got to go,” I said. “I have to take a sandwich to the father and help him sell apples all afternoon. My family is making me work too.”
    â€œYou never minded it when your Fred-parents made you work,” Edwy said.
    I couldn’t explain why it was different here. I wasn’t going to tell Edwy about how the mother made me work while she gave Bobo sugar and cuddled him on her lap. I wasn’t going to tell him how that made me feel.
    â€œI’ve got to go,” I repeated. “I’ll be in the market if youwant to find me later. And . . . I live on the street where lots of people’s houses are just broken boxes.”
    Edwy laughed, but not in a funny way.
    â€œHalf the town is like that!” he said.
    â€œI guess,” I said.
    I really had to get away from Edwy now. If I stayed any longer, I’d say too much. I’d say things no Fred would want me to say.
    I pretended I really cared about hurrying lunch to the father. I almost ran down the path. But right before the creek curved, I looked back through the trees. I had a clear view of Edwy wading farther out into the creek, struggling against the current.
    And for that moment, I almost felt like I understood Edwy.
    I turned away and kept walking.
    When I got to the part of the creek where it curved like a hairpin, I turned left, back toward the town. Almost immediately, I found myself on a street that might have been part of the marketplace. The first building I came to had a row of tables in front of it, and each table contained . . . well, were they parts of a car? Parts of some kind of machine? All of it looked vaguely mechanical, but also dirty and broken. Still, I spoke politely to the man sitting by the nearest table: “Good afternoon, sir.”
    He narrowed his eyes at me, but didn’t respond.
    Didn’t he hear me? I wondered. Should I speak again more loudly? What if his ears don’t work, the same way that the father’s eyes don’t work?
    But he was looking right at me. Even if he hadn’t heard my words, he would have seen my lips move.
    Could he possibly be both deaf and blind?
    It seemed like he had both heard and seen me. It seemed like his narrowed eyes were his reply.
    He’s never seen me before in my life! I thought. Why would he glare at me like that?
    A small child came racing out of the house behind him. It was Meki, one of the toddler twins who’d lived next door to me back in Fredtown.
    â€œWo-si!” Meki cried delightedly, running toward me.
    The man intercepted her.
    â€œGet back in the house,” he growled, shoving her behind him.
    â€œBut—Wo-si! Love Wo-si!” Meki began to wail and struggle against his grip.
    The man glared harder at me.
    â€œGet away from here,” he said. “Get off my property.”
    My knees began to tremble.
    â€œMeki—I’ll see you later,” I said quickly, in a voice that also trembled. “Remember, you need to obey your . . . your father.”
    I forced my legs to move. I forced myself to walk away from Meki’s sobs.
    All she was going to