and Iâm like, âNo, really, cross my heart. What gives?ââ
Jeremy paused to take a deep breath, and in the silence I heard a faint click, like two pieces of metal rubbing up against each other. Thatâs when I understood what Jeremy was doing. He was âacting out,â which is a term I learned when I forgot Mr. Fuzzy at Dr. Bainbridgeâs one day, back at the clinic in Starkville, after I got suspended from school. When I slipped inside to get him, Dr. Bainbridge was saying, âYou have to understand, Mariam, with all these pressures at home, itâs only natural that heâs acting out.â
I asked Dr. Bainbridge about it the next week, and he told me that sometimes people say and do things they donât mean just because theyâre upset about something else. And now I figured Jeremy was doing it because he was so upset about Mom and stuff. He was trying to scare me, thatâs all. Heâd even found the little bundle of tools under my bed and he was over there clicking them together. Iâd have been mad if I hadnât understood. If I hadnât understood, I might have even been afraidâMr. Fuzzy was, I could feel him shivering against my chest.
âDid you hear that?â Jeremy said.
âI didnât hear anything,â I said, because I wasnât going to play along with his game.
Jeremy didnât answer right away. So we lay there, both of us listening, and this time I really didnât hear anything. But it seemed even darker somehow, darker than Iâd ever seen our little bedroom. I wiggled my fingers in front of my face and I couldnât see a thing.
âI thought I heard something.â This time you could hear the faintest tremor in his voice. It was a really fine job, he was doing. I couldnât help admiring it. âAnd that would be bad,â Jeremy added, âbecause this Mueller, he was crazy as a shithouse rat.â
I hugged Mr. Fuzzy close. âCrazy?â I said.
âCrazy,â Jeremy said solemnly. âThis kid, he told me that all the farms around there, the farmers had about a zillion kids. Everybody had a ton of kids in those days. And one of them turned up missing. No one thought anything about it at firstâkids were always running offâbut about a week later another kid disappears. This time everybody got worried. It was this little girl and nobody could figure out why she would run off. She was only like seven years old.â
âShe was my age?â
âThatâs right, Si. She was just your age.â
Then I heard it again: this odd little clicking like Grandmaâs knitting needles used to make. Jeremy must have really given that bundle a shake.
â Shit ,â Jeremy said, and now he sounded really scared. Somebody ought to have given him an Oscar or something.
He switched on the light. It was a touch of genius, thatâhis way of saying, Hey, Iâm not doing anything! , which of course meant he was. I stared, but the bundle was nowhere in sight. I figured he must have tucked it under the covers, but it was hard to tell without my glasses on. Everything looked all blurry, even Jeremyâs face, blinking at me over the gap between the beds. I scooched down under the covers, holding Mr. Fuzzy tight.
âIt was coming from over there,â he said. âOver there by your bed.â
âI didnât hear anything,â I said.
âNo, Iâm serious, Si. I heard it, didnât you?â
âYou better turn out the light,â I said, just to prove I wasnât afraid. âMomâll be mad.â
âRight,â Jeremy said, and the way he said it, you could tell he knew it was an empty threat. Mom had told me she was sick when Iâd knocked on her bedroom door after school. I opened the door, but it was dark inside and she told me to go away. The room smelled funny, too, like the stinging stuff she put on my knee the time Jeremy