feeling the tickly itch of a tear that he couldn’t even hope to wipe away.
In his mind, he was counting on his fingers.
When Laurie arrived that Sunday, Miss Freeman had gone. The room smelled of Lysol and soap, and even the faces of the polios seemed freshly scrubbed.
Dickie cried out, “What kept ya?” But he didn’t sound so cheerful now, as if his happiness had been sponged away too. “Hurry, I want to hear about Khan,” he said.
So Laurie settled at her place by the window and started the story again. Jimmy the giant-slayer was watching the hunter arrive.
“He had never seen a man so wild,” she said. Khan was covered in furs and skin, as much an animal as the horse that he led. The two of them walked the same way, looking warily around them, alert to every sound, snorting cloudy breaths together.
Then the horse stopped in its tracks. It lifted its head, and its ears twitched nervously. Khan stopped too. He looked up, just as the horse had done, and stared straight through the window at Jimmy.
“Boy. Was Jimmy scared?” asked Dickie.
“For a moment, yes,” said Laurie. “Then Khan held up a hand. He just held it in the air with his fingers spread apartlike this, as flakes of snow fell from his arm. And he smiled, and his teeth were as white as a wolf’s.
“In the parlor, Jimmy called out to Fingal. ‘Come and see!’ he said. ‘Father, look!’
“Well, Fingal looked. He thought it was the Woman coming home, and he ran to the window. When all he saw was a man and a horse, he got angry. ‘Why did you call me?’ he asked. ‘Do you think I’ve never seen a hunter before?’
“‘Not like
him,’
said Jimmy. ‘Isn’t he wonderful, Father? That’s what I want to be when I grow up.’
“Fingal laughed. ‘When you grow up? You’re
not
growing up, you little fool,’ he said. ‘Jimmy, you’ll never grow up.’”
“Gee, that was a mean thing to say,” said Dickie. “I hope he’s sorry.”
“Oh, he’ll be sorry,” Laurie said. “Later on he’ll be very sorry.”
In a whirl of white, the hunter came into the parlor. He stomped his feet on the floor and pulled off his hat, and the snow fell away in clumps.
Fingal was adding wood to the fire. “Come sit by the hearth, sir. You’ll want a hot meal inside you.”
“That I surely do,” said the hunter.
But he would neither sit nor eat until his horse was taken care of. And because the snow was nearly as deep as Jimmy was tall, Fingal had to go himself. “The boy will look after you,” he said.
Khan beat his arms against his sides, shedding snow fromhis coat. “What’s that?” he asked, tilting his chin toward the ceiling.
Jimmy looked up. “That’s the dragon’s tooth, sir.” It was right above them, shining with its fresh coat of polish.
“I heard tell of this,” said Khan. “A tooth the size of a man. Never believed it myself.” He set down his bow and quiver. The feathers on his arrows were orange, yellow, and red. “They say you ought to touch it for luck. Put a coin in the box.” He made another motion with his head. “In that box there, I reckon. Is that so?”
Jimmy nodded. He had shown countless travelers exactly where to put the coins, but for some reason he couldn’t do it for Khan.
The hunter loosened his coat. He was wearing deerskins underneath, and a dozen necklaces of different lengths: a jumble of shells and bones, claws and teeth, skeins of hair like woven scalps. He dug through his pockets until he found a coin, an eight-sided silver Marcus. “Is this enough?” he asked.
Anyone else, Jimmy would have plied for more.
A Marcus?
he would have said, looking doubtful.
Well, if it’s all you’ve got …
Now he watched the hunter reaching out toward the money box, and he found no pleasure at all in the glint of light on the silver coin. It made him queasy inside to think he was robbing Khan for the touch of a wooden tooth, that he was making a fool of the man.
“Wait!” Jimmy leapt
In his mind, he was counting on his fingers.
When Laurie arrived that Sunday, Miss Freeman had gone. The room smelled of Lysol and soap, and even the faces of the polios seemed freshly scrubbed.
Dickie cried out, “What kept ya?” But he didn’t sound so cheerful now, as if his happiness had been sponged away too. “Hurry, I want to hear about Khan,” he said.
So Laurie settled at her place by the window and started the story again. Jimmy the giant-slayer was watching the hunter arrive.
“He had never seen a man so wild,” she said. Khan was covered in furs and skin, as much an animal as the horse that he led. The two of them walked the same way, looking warily around them, alert to every sound, snorting cloudy breaths together.
Then the horse stopped in its tracks. It lifted its head, and its ears twitched nervously. Khan stopped too. He looked up, just as the horse had done, and stared straight through the window at Jimmy.
“Boy. Was Jimmy scared?” asked Dickie.
“For a moment, yes,” said Laurie. “Then Khan held up a hand. He just held it in the air with his fingers spread apartlike this, as flakes of snow fell from his arm. And he smiled, and his teeth were as white as a wolf’s.
“In the parlor, Jimmy called out to Fingal. ‘Come and see!’ he said. ‘Father, look!’
“Well, Fingal looked. He thought it was the Woman coming home, and he ran to the window. When all he saw was a man and a horse, he got angry. ‘Why did you call me?’ he asked. ‘Do you think I’ve never seen a hunter before?’
“‘Not like
him,’
said Jimmy. ‘Isn’t he wonderful, Father? That’s what I want to be when I grow up.’
“Fingal laughed. ‘When you grow up? You’re
not
growing up, you little fool,’ he said. ‘Jimmy, you’ll never grow up.’”
“Gee, that was a mean thing to say,” said Dickie. “I hope he’s sorry.”
“Oh, he’ll be sorry,” Laurie said. “Later on he’ll be very sorry.”
In a whirl of white, the hunter came into the parlor. He stomped his feet on the floor and pulled off his hat, and the snow fell away in clumps.
Fingal was adding wood to the fire. “Come sit by the hearth, sir. You’ll want a hot meal inside you.”
“That I surely do,” said the hunter.
But he would neither sit nor eat until his horse was taken care of. And because the snow was nearly as deep as Jimmy was tall, Fingal had to go himself. “The boy will look after you,” he said.
Khan beat his arms against his sides, shedding snow fromhis coat. “What’s that?” he asked, tilting his chin toward the ceiling.
Jimmy looked up. “That’s the dragon’s tooth, sir.” It was right above them, shining with its fresh coat of polish.
“I heard tell of this,” said Khan. “A tooth the size of a man. Never believed it myself.” He set down his bow and quiver. The feathers on his arrows were orange, yellow, and red. “They say you ought to touch it for luck. Put a coin in the box.” He made another motion with his head. “In that box there, I reckon. Is that so?”
Jimmy nodded. He had shown countless travelers exactly where to put the coins, but for some reason he couldn’t do it for Khan.
The hunter loosened his coat. He was wearing deerskins underneath, and a dozen necklaces of different lengths: a jumble of shells and bones, claws and teeth, skeins of hair like woven scalps. He dug through his pockets until he found a coin, an eight-sided silver Marcus. “Is this enough?” he asked.
Anyone else, Jimmy would have plied for more.
A Marcus?
he would have said, looking doubtful.
Well, if it’s all you’ve got …
Now he watched the hunter reaching out toward the money box, and he found no pleasure at all in the glint of light on the silver coin. It made him queasy inside to think he was robbing Khan for the touch of a wooden tooth, that he was making a fool of the man.
“Wait!” Jimmy leapt
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