backing away, a terrified look on her face.
âWait!â shouted Willy. He jumped up and tried to stop her going out the door but she kicked at him. âHey!â he yelled, âStop it! I ainât gonna hurt you! Ow!â She landed a kick on his shin. He stretched out his hands, palms toward her. She stopped kicking but remained crouched before him.
Willy stayed back, feeling as though he had cornered a wild animal. Her long red hair was tangled, her dress dirty and torn, her feet bare. Willyâs eyes were drawn to a metal object hanging around her neck on a string. She clutched at it. Willy spoke again, softly, âI ainât gonna hurt you. You scared me for a minute, grabbing my foot ⦠I didnât know what you was.â
The girl seemed to begin to lose her fear. A curious look came into her eyes.
âHey, look here,â said Willy, stooping. The kittens were crawling in every direction under their feet. Willy picked one up and began stroking it, sensing that it would help keep the girl calm. âWant to hold it?â he offered.
She looked at the grinning boy and the squirming kitten. A shy smile crept over her face and Willy put the tiny, warm body into her hands.
âIt ainât scared of me,â she said. Her voice was low and husky.
âNo, it ainât,â said Willy.
âI didnât know anybody was here. I thought the kittens was under that thing, like they was before. I didnât mean to.â¦â
âThatâs all right,â said Willy.
âI love kittens,â she said, petting each one in turn. âI petted them before.â
âItâs been you messing around this house, leaving the door open?â
âI never made no mess. I had to go to my room.â
âWhat do you mean, your room?â
âThe little flower room. Itâs mine. Iâve been playing there lots.â
âSomebody was here when I was,â said Willy.
âWarnât nobody here when I was.â
âNo?â said Willy, studying her. âGuess thatâs your doll in there.â
âItâs Tillie Jeanâs. Whyâd you pitch it in the river?â
âSo it was you that screamed!â
âI hollered, cause you shouldnât a done it!â said the husky voice.
âHowâd you get it back?â
âRobert, my dog, fetched it.â
âOh, him,â said Willy. âThen you been playing with the doll in there.â
âDid you bother my room?â asked the girl. She started toward the blue door. Willy followed.
âItâs my room,â she said, turning to him before entering. âYou oughtnât come in here.â
Willy stayed at the doorway and watched as the skinny, raggedy child, her long, faded dress enveloping her bare feet, turned the dollâs head. âJust stay there and be good,â she whispered to it. âStay there. Iâll watch out for you.â She came back out and shut the door.
âWhoâs Tillie Jean?â asked Willy.
âA little girl. Thatâs her grave down there.â She turned and pointed through the window to the tiny, grassy mound out near the hill. âShe died. Drowned in the river.â The two of them looked at the grave.
âWere you here yesterday morning in the fog?â asked Willy.
âYes. I was coming to my room ⦠but somebody else was coming ⦠I hid.â
âMe!â said Willy. âI thought you was a ghost.â
The girlâs eyes widened.
Willy said, âIt must have been you that was there at the top of that hill the other day. Howâd you know my name?â
âIt warnât me.â
âWhat about last night ⦠that thudding noise in the ⦠in your room. Howâd you do that? I never saw nobody.â
âIt warnât me.â
âWhen I found the kittens, were you there? Someone was laughing.â
âNo,â she whispered.