up.”
He reached her. They headed across the campus in search of Ringer. Eva thought it odd to have someone follow her without feeling an accompanying sense of danger.
Eva wanted to purge her thoughts of the violent turn her life had taken scant weeks ago, to disgorge the history that Mrs. Erickson wanted her to recall and inhabit. She thought instead of today’s events, of this smooth-faced boy next to her and his sudden snarling transformation. She remembered the threatening voice of Padron; it evoked those of Bare Chest and Papa. The memories cascaded, and she heard Gergana and Coombs and every person she’d encountered during her thirteen years of life. For Eva, memory was sound: the din from the Table of Clamorous Voices.
She shook her head to clear the memories. She liked to imagine that she possessed a stage magician’s box. Its black lacquered sides were studded with dull iron fasteners and circled by heavy chains and a padlock. With a snap of her stubby fingers, Doran and Bare Chest went into the box. Snap! Henna Erickson. Snap! Mama and Papa. Snap, snap! The box shrank until it fit into her pocket. It never quite disappeared, though, and the Voices were never quite stilled. Mama’s whine and Papa’s drunken manifestos, Gergana’s silly chatter and affectionate lullabies. Doran’s grunts and Bare Chest’s threats. All of these echoed. The din.
Eva tore herself away from her daydream and turned her attention to Jim. He was frowning. “Bad memories?” she asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” he replied. They walked in silence towards a shady spot on the edge of the school’s campus. Ringer was waiting there. She sniffed Eva and wagged her tail. Her ears were relaxed, her tongue hanging down, spatulate. She pressed up against Eva and then returned to Jim’s side. Jim brightened.
Eva said, “I have an hour before the Foundation car picks me up. You want to do something?”
“Like what?”
“Something to eat? Anything.”
“I don’t think so. I need to get Ringer back home.”
Eva pushed on. “How about tomorrow? Or the weekend? Let’s compare notes. Maybe we can make trouble.” She offered a version of what she imagined was a sly smile.
Jim regarded her for a minute. “I liked the way you stood up for yourself this morning. That was pretty cool.”
“Okay, I’m cool. You’re cool. So...let’s do something. Something cool.”
“I don’t know. I’ve got to head on home.”
“What, somebody keeps track of you? Times your arrival?”
“No, it’s not that—”
“Maybe you think I’m not good enough for you?” She turned and stood in front of him, stopping him. She thrust out a clenched jaw. The din from the Table was louder.
Jim held up both hand in a peacemaking gesture. “No, that’s not it. Okay, you’re different. You’re not like anybody I’ve ever met. You’re, what, a scrap over four feet tall? And you were the first to take on those guys. I guess I admire you.” He walked several paces, kicking at stones as he went. “Do you want be friends?”
“Friends, huh?” she replied. But the edge was gone. The Table quieted.
Jim sighed. “I could use a friend. Somebody I can trust.”
“How do you know you can trust me? You don’t know anything about me.”
“Ringer trusts you. Let’s find her some water and get a soda or something.”
“I guess so,” she nodded. They walked in silent fellowship towards the nearby diner. Ringer strained forward when she saw their destination, hindquarters shaking from the rapid movement of her tail. Jim led Eva inside to a pair of old-fashioned counter stools. At the base of one, there was a folded blanket with a well-worn depression and a layer of tan hair. Ringer curled up in the depression. The counterman gave Jim a fresh bowl of water for Ringer and served Jim and Eva’s sodas, then delivered a small plate of raw burger meat to the dog. Ringer emitted a quiet chuffing sound of approval. The cook was
He reached her. They headed across the campus in search of Ringer. Eva thought it odd to have someone follow her without feeling an accompanying sense of danger.
Eva wanted to purge her thoughts of the violent turn her life had taken scant weeks ago, to disgorge the history that Mrs. Erickson wanted her to recall and inhabit. She thought instead of today’s events, of this smooth-faced boy next to her and his sudden snarling transformation. She remembered the threatening voice of Padron; it evoked those of Bare Chest and Papa. The memories cascaded, and she heard Gergana and Coombs and every person she’d encountered during her thirteen years of life. For Eva, memory was sound: the din from the Table of Clamorous Voices.
She shook her head to clear the memories. She liked to imagine that she possessed a stage magician’s box. Its black lacquered sides were studded with dull iron fasteners and circled by heavy chains and a padlock. With a snap of her stubby fingers, Doran and Bare Chest went into the box. Snap! Henna Erickson. Snap! Mama and Papa. Snap, snap! The box shrank until it fit into her pocket. It never quite disappeared, though, and the Voices were never quite stilled. Mama’s whine and Papa’s drunken manifestos, Gergana’s silly chatter and affectionate lullabies. Doran’s grunts and Bare Chest’s threats. All of these echoed. The din.
Eva tore herself away from her daydream and turned her attention to Jim. He was frowning. “Bad memories?” she asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” he replied. They walked in silence towards a shady spot on the edge of the school’s campus. Ringer was waiting there. She sniffed Eva and wagged her tail. Her ears were relaxed, her tongue hanging down, spatulate. She pressed up against Eva and then returned to Jim’s side. Jim brightened.
Eva said, “I have an hour before the Foundation car picks me up. You want to do something?”
“Like what?”
“Something to eat? Anything.”
“I don’t think so. I need to get Ringer back home.”
Eva pushed on. “How about tomorrow? Or the weekend? Let’s compare notes. Maybe we can make trouble.” She offered a version of what she imagined was a sly smile.
Jim regarded her for a minute. “I liked the way you stood up for yourself this morning. That was pretty cool.”
“Okay, I’m cool. You’re cool. So...let’s do something. Something cool.”
“I don’t know. I’ve got to head on home.”
“What, somebody keeps track of you? Times your arrival?”
“No, it’s not that—”
“Maybe you think I’m not good enough for you?” She turned and stood in front of him, stopping him. She thrust out a clenched jaw. The din from the Table was louder.
Jim held up both hand in a peacemaking gesture. “No, that’s not it. Okay, you’re different. You’re not like anybody I’ve ever met. You’re, what, a scrap over four feet tall? And you were the first to take on those guys. I guess I admire you.” He walked several paces, kicking at stones as he went. “Do you want be friends?”
“Friends, huh?” she replied. But the edge was gone. The Table quieted.
Jim sighed. “I could use a friend. Somebody I can trust.”
“How do you know you can trust me? You don’t know anything about me.”
“Ringer trusts you. Let’s find her some water and get a soda or something.”
“I guess so,” she nodded. They walked in silent fellowship towards the nearby diner. Ringer strained forward when she saw their destination, hindquarters shaking from the rapid movement of her tail. Jim led Eva inside to a pair of old-fashioned counter stools. At the base of one, there was a folded blanket with a well-worn depression and a layer of tan hair. Ringer curled up in the depression. The counterman gave Jim a fresh bowl of water for Ringer and served Jim and Eva’s sodas, then delivered a small plate of raw burger meat to the dog. Ringer emitted a quiet chuffing sound of approval. The cook was
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