Memory Boy by Will Weaver Page A

lazy besides.”
    I manufactured a weak smile. “I’m not that handy.”
    â€œPlus with five of them and four of you, there’d be one less mouth to feed.” He cocked his head to consider that.
    â€œLike I said,” I quickly began, but he didn’t hear me. Another idea had arrived, and clearly his brain could handle only one at a time.
    â€œExcept there’s the sheriff.” Then he added, “Plus Sheila would skin me alive.”
    â€œWell, there you have it, then.”
    He blinked, then bored his gaze back into me. “Listen. I got bad news. You tell your parents that you folks are gonna have to move on. That is, if they haven’t already figured that out. There’s no room here this winter for another family.”
    My throat stiffened. I stuck out my chin. “You’re the big man around here—why don’t you tell them?”
    His face went blank, then broke into a gap-toothed grin. “You know, I like you, kid. I do.”
    I vamoosed back around the cabin and headed for the tent. My parents were up and around now. The food pack was out. They were debating whether to set up our cookstove. “It’s a sign of defeat, us out here cooking, them inside,” my mother said.
    â€œOn the other hand, we have to eat,” my father said.
    Sarah looked toward the cabin, then at the food.
    We ate breakfast behind our tent, out of sight from the cabin. I didn’t mention my conversation with Danny. I kept staring at the ground, at our shoeprints in the ash. My brain was spinning. Processing. Searching all databases. We clearly needed a new plan. The whole family was silent as we ate bread, peanut butter, and jam. Midway, a woman’s voice said, “Knock, knock.”
    Sheila poked her head around the side of the main tent.
    My mother’s face hardened. “What is it?”
    â€œI brought you some coffee, if you like. Real coffee.” She held two mugs.
    My father glanced at Nat, then accepted a cup. My mother shook her head curtly sideways.
    â€œI’ll take it,” I said. I surprised myself by saying that.
    â€œI didn’t know you drank coffee,” Sarah said.
    Sheila glanced briefly over her shoulder toward the cabin. “I wanted to invite you in for breakfast, but Danny said no. Says it would upset the children.”
    My mother bit her lower lip in a very obvious way. “Danny says,” she repeated.
    â€œYeah, well, he is kind of the alpha male around here, if you know what I mean,” Sheila replied.
    â€œI’d noticed,” my mother said.
    â€œAnd I’m sorry to tell you this,” Sheila said, lowering her voice, “but he’s going to ask you to move on. I just wanted you to know that.”
    I looked at my father, and he at me.
    â€œI’ll talk with him after breakfast,” my father said.
    Sheila frowned. “I’m afraid there’ll be nothing to talk about. Once his mind is made up, well, that’s that.”
    â€œAnd what if we don’t want to move on?” Sarah said suddenly. Her voice was high-pitched and shaky.
    â€œYes,” my mother said, stepping close to Sarah. “What if we don’t want to leave our own place, one that we pay taxes on, one that we —”
    Sheila interrupted her. “Danny’s been in prison,” she said softly. “Deep down he’s a good man, but he’s done some bad things, and he’s got a hair-trigger temper.”
    My father’s gaze went to my mother. “That’s good to know,” he said.
    Sarah looked accusingly at my father, as if he was on the wrong side.
    â€œSo I guess,” Sheila said apologetically, “I’ll leave you to make your plans.”
    When she had gone, we all looked at each other. My father’s brown eyes went to the Ali Princess , then back to our cabin.
    â€œWell, gang,” he said cheerfully, “anybody got any ideas?”
    â€œI say go