I thought of running back to the phone, calling B-Jay again-no, there wasn't time. Besides, I might still be able to catch him. I grabbed a robe and went barefoot out into the night.

I didn't have to look very far. The moon was almost full and he was sitting on the patio, his arms around his knees, his thin nightshirt almost transparent in the glow. He was crying quietly. I sat down next to him.

"Tommy," I said. "What are you doing?"

"Nothin'." Then, "I'm trying to decide where to go."

"Go?"

"Can't stay here any more."

"What about Alec and Holly?"

"They're yours now."

"They belong to you too."

"Not any more. You 'dopted them."

"Don't you think they care about you too?"

"It doesn't matter. I guess I'm too old now. Like Mikey."

"Who's Mikey?"

"My brother. My real brother. He was . . ." He frowned, trying to remember. "He was older than me, but I don't remember by how much. But when he got too old, Foster didn't love him any more, so he had to go away."

"Who was Foster?"

"Our last Daddy."

"Did he love you?" Tommy nodded.

My throat was dry. "How did he love you?"

"He let us sleep with him, and things . . ." Tommy looked up. "He was really okay, even if sometimes we didn't like what he did. He made us wash regular. And he never let us go hungry."

"What happened to him?"

"He died. I guess. One day he didn't come back. A few days later, the other people found us and sent us here."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I did. I mean, I thought you knew. We told the ladies at-at wherever it was, and they said they'd tell you."

"Do you want to come back inside?"

"No."

"Why not?"

" 'Cause."

I sat down next to him and put my arm around his thin shoulders. He stiffened.

I said, "Tommy, I'm sorry. I didn't know you needed me to love you that way. Where I grew up, I was taught that was wrong-that men don't do things like that with other men."

"Foster said they do." His voice was high and innocent. "He said it was noble and-and platonic, and a lot of other things." Without ever having met him, I could have cheerfully killed the man. Consenting adults is one thing; impressionable children. . . .

"Well," I answered slowly. "I guess some places they do and some places they don't."

"What kind of place is this?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but something stopped me. A distant sound perhaps. A feeling. I said, instead, "What kind of a place do you want it to be?"

He thought about it for a moment. I found myself listening for that sound again, something very faint and far away. Finally, he said, "Sometimes, it was nice. Foster said he loved me. He said he loved me better than anybody. I liked that. He said I was his pretty little boy, and he always brought me toys and things and lotsa times, pretty clothes to wear. Those were nice times. He liked me to be pretty for him, and I wanted to make him happy, 'cause that's when he made me happy."

I didn't say anything to that. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't even sure what I felt any more. Revulsion-not at Tommy, but at the man who'd used him-sorrow, pity, anger, empathy; yes, a lot of empathy. All Tommy wanted to do was please the people around him. I could certainly understand that.

"You don't love me any more, do you?" Tommy asked.

I put my arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to me. "Actually," I said, "I love you a whole lot more now, because you've been so honest with me. Now, I understand a lot that I didn't understand before. I'm glad you told me."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Mm."

We sat in silence for a moment.

After a bit, Tommy said, "I want this to be a place where I can be loved."

So. That was the answer.

"All right," I said. "I guess we both have to do some growing up. You're going to have to help me too." I pulled him closer, he didn't resist. "Do you want to sleep next to me tonight?"

"If you want me to." He said it indifferently.

"No," I said. "Only if that's what you want. Let me tell you the rules about sex. They're very simple. Sex is about having fun with someone you like. You don't do it with people you don't like. You don't ever do it with anyone unless you both want to. That's the most important thing. If you don't want to do it, you can say no."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh, okay," he said.

He had accepted the information; but whether or not he'd really gotten it-well, it was a start anyway.

"Yes," he said, suddenly.

"Yes, what?" I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"I want to sleep with you tonight."

Maybe he just needed the reassurance, I told myself, because it was the only reassurance that he could understand; and maybe he did understand and maybe he really wanted to sleep with me. And maybe . . . I could make up reasons all night long. It was time to stop listening to all the little conversations about what I should w shouldn't do.

"All right." I picked him up-he wasn't too big for that yet. And I hugged him and I said, "I love you, very, very much, Tommy. And it's all right for you to love me any way you want. Just remember that you don't have to do anything that you don't want to, except wash regular. Understand?"

He looked me straight in the eye; his cheeks were wet with tears. "I want to. I want to make you happy. Okay?"

"I'm happy already."

"I want to make you happier."

This was an argument I couldn't win. "Okay," I said, and let the subject drop.

"Can we go back to bed now?"

"Sure." I thought about everything I'd said and wondered if I'd Ieft anything out. I said, "Tonight I just want to hug you a lot, and we don't have to do the other thing, is that all right?"

Goddamn that Foster. Tommy looked disappointed. But he nodded.

I started to get up, still carrying him, but that was awkward, so I let him walk. He put his ann around my waist and I put mine around his shoulders, feeling very strange and uneasy, and a lot less sure of myself. I felt as if I'd stepped into some strange new territory, and all my maps were wrong.

At the door, I stopped. There was that sound again. And this time, I recognized it.

Chtorrans. Hunting.

I fingered my worm charm in response. I stopped long enough to check all the doors and windows-as if that would make a difference-and then we went to bed.

I held him close because that was what he wanted and after a while it was what I wanted too. And everything I'd said to Tommy was just as true for me too. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to.

The hell with everybody else. They weren't in this bed.

I was lonely and scared and I wanted to be loved too. I wanted to.

And so did Tommy. But I couldn't let myself, not because it was wrong, I didn't know what was right or wrong any more, but because I didn't want to be like Foster. So we didn't.

In the morning, I found Tommy in bed with Alec again, and Holly had moved to the other room. Over breakfast, she said it was because she wanted to sleep. I didn't pursue the matter. The ice was thin enough already.