The old woman wasn’t sure what to think of her sudden change. “What clippings?”

“The ones you don’t like.”

She knew with one look at Eugene that she’d guessed right. The man glanced nervously at his princess.

“What a brilliant idea!” Jennifer said. “You create your own world by clipping out only those stories that fit your idyllic world and then you discard the rest.”

Balinda was speechless.

“Who’s the president, Eugene?”

“Eisenhower,” the man said without hesitation.

“Of course. Eisenhower. None of the others are worthy to be president. Any news of Reagan or the Bushes or Clinton just gets cut out.”

“Don’t be silly,” Balinda said. “Everyone knows that Eisenhower is our president. We don’t go along with the pretenders.”

“And who won the World Series this year, Eugene?”

“Baseball isn’t played anymore.”

“No, of course not. Trick question. What do you do with all the baseball stories?”

“Baseball isn’t played—”

“Shut up, Eugene!” Balinda snapped. “Don’t repeat yourself like a fool in a lady’s presence! Go cut something up.”

He saluted and stood at attention. “Yes, sir!”

“Sir? What has gotten into you? You’re losing your mind just because we have a visitor? Do I look like a general to you?”

He lowered his hand. “Forgive me, my princess. Perhaps I should save us some coin by cutting some coupons. I should love to take the carriage to the shop for stores as soon as I do.”

She glared at him. He did an about-face and walked for the stack of fresh newspapers.

“Don’t mind him,” Balinda said. “He gets a bit strange when he’s excited.”

Jennifer glanced out the window. A thin ribbon of smoke drifted skyward from a barrel. The yard was black . . .

They burned them! Whatever didn’t fit neatly into the world Balinda wanted went up in smoke. Newspaper stories, books, even pictures on TV dinner boxes. She looked around for a television. An old black and white sat dusty in the living room.

Jennifer stood and walked toward it. “I have to hand it to you, Balinda; you take the cake.”

“We do what we are entitled to in the privacy of our home,” she said.

“Of course. You have every right. Frankly, it would take tremendous strength and resolve to sustain the world you’ve managed to build around yourself.”

“Thank you. We’ve given our lives to it. One has to find a way in this chaotic world.”

“I can see that.” She eased through the living room and peered over the banister. The staircase was filled in with reams of old papers. “Where does this lead?”

“The basement. We don’t use it anymore. Not for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Thirty years. Maybe longer. It frightened Bob, so we nailed it shut.”

Jennifer faced the hall Bob had disappeared down. Kevin’s room was down there somewhere, hidden behind piles of books—probably butchered—and magazines. She walked down the hall.

Balinda stood and followed. “Now wait a minute. Where—”

“I just want to see, Balinda. I just want to see how you managed it.”

“Questions, you said. You’re walking, not talking.”

“I won’t touch a thing. That’s what I said. And I won’t.”

She passed a bathroom on her right, cluttered and filthy. The hall ended at the doorways of two rooms. The door on the right was shut—presumably Bob’s room. The door on the left was open a crack. She pushed it open. A small bed sat in one corner, strewn with loose clippings from children’s books. Hundreds of books stood against one wall—half with their covers torn off, altered, or trimmed to meet Balinda’s approval. A small window with a pull-down shade looked into the backyard.

“Kevin’s old room?” she asked.

“Until he abandoned us. I told him that if he left he’d end up in trouble. I tried to warn him.”

“Do you even want to know what kind of trouble he’s in?”

Balinda turned away. “What happens out of this house is not my concern. I told him he had no business running off with the serpent. Sss, sss, sss. It’s lies, lies, all lies out there. They say we came from monkeys. You’re all fools.”

“You’re right, the world is full of fools. But I can assure you, Kevin isn’t one of them.”

Balinda’s eyes flashed. “Oh, he’s not, is he? He was always too smart for us! Bob was the dumb one and Kevin was God himself, come to enlighten the rest of us poor idiots!” She took a breath through her nostrils.

She’d hit a button in the old hag. The adopted nephew wasn’t retarded like her own son and Balinda had taken exception to the fact.

Jennifer swallowed and walked to the window. It was fastened down with one screw. What kind of mother would raise a boy in an environment like this? The thought of Kevin crying as they passed by the house yesterday came with new understanding. Dear Kevin, what did she do to you? Who was the small boy who lived in this room?The screw was loose in its hole.

Balinda followed Jennifer’s stare.

“He used to crawl out of that window. He didn’t know that I knew, but I did. Nothing happens around here without my knowing.”

Jennifer turned back and brushed past Balinda. Nausea swept through her stomach. In a twisted way, Balinda had probably raised Kevin with noble intentions. She’d protected him from a terrible world full of evil and death. But at what price?

Slow down, Jennifer. You don’t know what happened here. You don’t even know that this wasn’t a wonderful environment for a child to be raised in.

She stepped into the living room and calmed herself.

“I knew he was sneaking out,” Balinda was saying. “But I just couldn’t stop him. Not without beating him raw. Never did believe in that kind of discipline. It may have been a mistake. Look at where it got him. Maybe I should have beaten him.”

Jennifer took a shallow breath. “What kind of discipline didyou use?”

“You don’t need discipline when your house is in order. Life is discipline enough. Anything more is an admission of weakness.” She said it all with her chest puffed, proud. “Isolate them with the truth and they will shine like the stars.”

The revelation came like a cool balm. She looked around. So Kevin’s rearing had been weird and distorted, but maybe not terrible.

“A man has been threatening Kevin,” she said. “We believe it’s someone your son—”

“He’s my nephew.”

“Sorry. Nephew. Someone Kevin might have known when he was ten or eleven. A boy who threatened Kevin. He had a fight with this boy. Maybe you remember something that might help us identify him.”

“It must have been the time he came home all bloody. I do remember that. Yes, we found him in bed in the morning and his nose was a mess. He refused to talk about it, but I knew he’d been out. I knew everything.”

“What kind of friends did Kevin have at that age?”

Balinda hesitated. “His family was his friend. Bob was his friend.”

“But he must have had other friends in the neighborhood. How about Samantha?”

“That fool girl? They sneaked around. Don’t think I didn’t know. He let it slip a few times. She was the one who may have ruined him in the first place! No, we tried to discourage him from keeping friends outside the house. This is an evil world. You don’t just let your children play with anyone!”

“You didn’t know anyof his friends?”

Balinda stared at her for a long time and then walked for the door. “You’re starting to repeat your questions. I don’t think we can help you more than we have.” She opened the door.

Jennifer took a last look around the house. She pitied the poor boy who grew up in this distorted world. He would enter the real world . . . naive.

Like Kevin.

But Balinda was probably right. There was nothing more to learn here.

16

Sunday

Afternoon

SAMANTHA PACED THE FLOOR of the hotel room for the hundredth time. She’d anticipated almost every eventuality, but not Kevin’s disappearance.