The Wire Hanger

Chapter 42

After lunch and a much-needed afternoon nap, I found myself trapped in the middle of an argument between Martha and Jezebel. Apparently David had told everyone what I'd seen – or not seen – and there was tremendous debate about what this meant, if anything.

            "Maybe it's just invisible," said Martha.

            Jezebel scoffed. "An invisible wall. This isn't science fiction."

            "We've never had anyone go out," said Martha.

            "That we know of."

            "We've never had anyone come in."

            "Well, why would they want to?"

            "Of course people go out," said Ruth. "Where are all these poor children on their way to, anyway?"

            "We don't ask about that," said Martha pointedly. "It's safer and you know it."

            Ruth shrugged. "Still."

            I fixed my gaze on the wall opposite, where there was a framed cross-stitch. It said, "Where you go, I will go," with a date twenty years previous underneath it. Noah appeared at my elbow.

            "Hey Coby," he said, "I want to show you something."

            Grateful for the escape, I followed him out into the front entranceway. He nodded at my shoes, lined up with everyone else's.

            "Suit up," he said.

            "We're going outside?"

            "Ruth told me about it," he said. "Figured you might want a break from the house. I do, anyway, and I'm under strict orders not to wander around alone, so." He shrugged a shoulder.

            "It really is tiny," I said, and pulled on my shoes without complaint. He took me down the sidewalks, affecting nonchalance, but I noticed the way he scanned the area without seeming to. It was like he was never off duty, even in this bucolic neighborhood. The trees were in full leaf, late afternoon sunshine sparkling down at us, and the further we walked, the further the arguments and chatter and lack of personal space in the tiny house fell behind us.

            He took a sharp turn into what looked like foliage, but what was in fact a well-concealed path cutting through a dense grove of trees. It led to a steep wooden staircase, which I followed him down. It was beginning to seem like I spent half my life following him places, but it couldn't have felt more different from the first time, when he brought me from his house to the Professor's house, barking at me and walking too fast. I'd thought he was rude and impatient, but now I thought he was probably just scared. He'd had my life in his hands.

            "Where are we going?" I asked, pushing some branches out of my face.

            He actually smiled then. "It's a surprise."

            We emerged from the grove into a flat stretch of gravel. I hadn't realized we were so close to the lake bed – it stretched out in front of us, a marshy no-man's-land. I'd always heard it was hard, though not impossible, to walk through; the ground was unstable and there was always the risk of quicksand. Reeds and scraggly bushes covered much of the muck. From down here I couldn't see nearly as far as I could when I was up in the tower, which was almost a relief. I thought he might be taking me into the lake bed – maybe he knew where to step, a secret maze into the ghost of the lake – but instead we took a sharp left turn, walking along what used to be the shoreline.