The Wire Hanger

Chapter Thirteen

We spent that night at the Professor’s in an uneasy suspension of time. The Professor put me in what looked like a library, on the second floor, with bookshelves lining the wall and an air mattress on the floor and sheets folded neatly next to it.

            “Sorry I hadn’t had it made up,” he said, “but we couldn’t be sure when you were coming. And Hannah won’t be back until tomorrow.”

            “Who’s Hannah?”

            “She helps me out,” said the Professor, as though this embarrassed him. “Some things aren’t as easy for me as they used to be.”

            I guessed that included making a bed, but then, I had never seen either my father or Esau make a bed in their lives. It was one of those things boys didn’t need to learn, because there would always be women around to do it for them. When the Professor said good night and backed out of the room I shook out the sheets, wondering if this would be better or worse than Jezebel’s couch, which had been comfortable enough, but with an odor I couldn’t quite place and hadn’t tried too hard to.

            I was halfway through pulling off my shirt to sleep when I heard a soft knock at the door.

            “Coby?”

            I yanked the shirt back down. Static made the hair at the back of my head stand up straight. I knew I should probably put my headscarf back on before opening the door but it was too much effort, so I pulled the door open, one hand trying to straighten out the hem of my shirt.

            Noah’s eyes widened and he looked immediately at the floor.

            “Oh, relax,” I said crossly. “I promise not to accost you.”

            “I’m just not used to it,” he muttered.

            Part of me wanted to stick my head in his face, kind of a shock therapy, but weariness won out and I sat on the edge of my air mattress. It immediately sagged so much that my butt almost hit the floorboards. “Where’s your room?”

            “Across the hall,” he said, still not looking directly at me. He scanned the bookshelves to his right. “It’s where I usually stay.”

            “You’re here a lot, huh?”

            He shrugged. “Not so much anymore. When I was a kid, yeah.”

            “How come?”

            “Stuff my mom was involved with. It was a while before I was old enough to help. Somebody had to look after me.”

            There was a huge, unspoken question hanging in the air, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask it. Instead I said, “I bet you were a brat.”

            “Huge,” he said, with something like relief. “Drove Hannah nuts. She locked me in the cellar once.” At my shocked expression, he gave what I was beginning to recognize as a laugh and said, “Don’t worry, I deserved it. I hacked the ID monitor so that every time she went in or out it sang the Happy Birthday song at her. In chipmunk voices.”

            I grinned. “Truly, a noble use of your talents.”

            “Hey. I was twelve.” He gestured awkwardly at the other end of the mattress next to me, which was practically in the air. “Um. Mind if I sit?”

            “Be my guest,” I said. He looked horribly uncomfortable, and it suddenly struck me that he hadn’t grown up with a sister. Esau and I bounded in and out of each other’s rooms all the time, even now, and the thought made my heart clutch. He must be so worried. Everyone in his life was disappearing.