--XVIII--

...is there a difference, between "wouldn't" or "couldn't?"

He was in a black coat, a tuxedo, I think they called it. The man was across from me as I sat on the bed reading my only copy of the Bible. I wanted more books, but couldn't afford them. The only cloth on my body was half the bed sheet.

The man took his watch from the drawer and looked back at me. It was maybe the prettiest, shiniest thing I had ever seen then, his watch. Gold and silver, and shining things, I thought it was made of. He smiled at me.

"You don't want me to go," he said. "Do you?"

I looked at the man- he was somewhere in his thirties, maybe early forties? His hair was a mix of blond and some gray.

"You're the one that... doesn't make things hurt too badly," I said. I surveyed his eyes, any nuances in their movement or any movement of his body that was out of his ordinary behavior. It was something I knew to do, from early. How early, I don't remember. "So I guess not."

I was always honest with these people. Even the ones that hurt me the most. I was eleven.

"Do you have kids?" I asked.

He looked at me.

"Why do you ask?" he said.

I shook my head. "I don't know. Curious, I guess."

The man put a stack of paper bills on top of a table beside the bed.

"I'm not supposed to take gifts," I said.

"You don't have to tell anyone," he replied, discreetly. Hushed. "Get yourself something nice. Something new to read. A pair of shoes, something."

"I can't take it," I said. I tried hard to disguise the disappointment I felt but couldn't. "There's a camera."

The man pulled on his pants, buckled on his belt. From his wallet he took what looked like a card. He placed it on the bed, in front of me. I took one look at it.

"I know what the Overwoods looks like," I said.

"Look closer."

It was a map I thought I'd seen before, marking where the mines were, riddled with the lines that divided the Vicinities. But there were strange symbols on it, symbols that I didn't understand.

"What is it?" I asked. "What are these... markers? What do they mean?"

I took my stuffed husky, which was on the pillows, and hugged it. It was the other valuable thing that I had.

"Take the money," the man said. "And get out of here." I think maybe I gave him some sort of confused look, because then he said: "You can. Now."

"I..." I said. "I don't get it. I'm not sure I believe this."

"I know you don't," he replied. "The man who found you at Century-"

"How do you know about that?" I said.

"Questions later," he said. I remember feeling more than just confused. There was consternation, concern in his voice; it was on his face. And even to me, it seemed genuine. I was ready to run, from whatever this was. "You'll find that man at The Port, and you'll be safe there. You'll be old enough soon that you won't be something of special interest here. I know someone that can help you."

"If you cared about me at all then why do you even keep coming here?" I said.

"I would have stopped," he told me. I thought there were tears in his eyes, for just a flash of a second. "I couldn't."