Chapter Eight

Revenge of the Crocs

Danny woke up bright and early- or dark and early, in reality. He got ready for school at top speed, assisted by bubbling anxiety. Anxiety didn't shut Danny down, he burned it like gasoline.

He put fresh water in Max's bowl, rubbed the little guy on his sleepy, upside down head, and walked up to the tower room. The view of Eddystone did him some good, pinpoints of light glowing through the murky dawn.

Maybe it’ll be different here, he thought. I’ll try to make it different. He nodded his head in determination and turned to see the chalkboard, which displayed a new message, a very short one.

It said: The answer is a secret

Danny stood in front of the chalkboard, stumped.

“The answer?” he said. “What was the question?” He puzzled over it as he headed down to the kitchen.

Was the house itself communicating with him? If it had 'personality' maybe it could leave mystery messages on a chalkboard.

He dropped his backpack next to his chair and went to get himself some coffee.

“Are you ready for the first day of school?” asked Ali.

His tone was jolly, but his eyes were concerned. Miss Grace didn't look up from her laptop. Mr. Murray was tucking into some scrambled egg whites. They had the air of three people who were trying their hardest to Act Like Everything was Normal. He felt compelled to reassure them that he was okay.

“I have supplies,” said Danny. “I know some kids already. I think I'm good.” He drank his coffee, appearing calm as lake water on the outside. Inside his heart rate was spiking and his brain was racing with scenarios of all possible catastrophes and public embarrassments.

“Well, I'm nervous,” said Ali. “I start my new job today.”

“Cool, good luck!” said Danny. “Are you going to work with Mr. Jones, Miss Grace?”

She frowned and halted her typing. “I suppose,” she said. “I told him I insist on doing pro bono work. I'm not going to coddle wealthy clients all of the time. He said that was agreeable to him, but we'll see.”

“Pro bono means for free, right?” Danny asked.

“Exactly.” She smiled at him.

Miss Grace had spent a lot of time fighting crooked landlords and big companies back in Maryland. In elementary school, he'd had to draw a picture of what his mother did for a living for a mother's day project. He had no idea what his actual mother did. He'd drawn a picture of Miss Grace on a battle horse, wielding a giant sword, protecting a huddle of frightened people from a big, fat greedy monster with dollar signs all over it.

She’d laminated it, and still carried it in her briefcase.

He had a hard time picturing her representing spoiled rich types with tax problems. He had a feeling they didn't know what they were in for.

“Don't grow up to be a lawyer,” she said absently.

Danny laughed. “I don’t really wanna be a lawyer, no offense,” he said. He added more syrup to his pancakes. “I want to do special effects for movies and stuff like that.”

“You do?” said Mr. Murray, mug halfway to his lips.

“Yeah,” said Danny. “That's all I've ever wanted to do.”

“You've never said,” said Mr. Murray.

“You never asked,” said Danny.

Miss Grace checked her watch. “We have to go. I need to get you there early so we can stop in the office.” She gestured toward the mudroom. “Go get your things on.”

Danny did. When he was in the mudroom he heard Miss Grace say, in a low voice, “Is it possible we've never asked him what he wanted to be when he grows up?”

“No, I don't believe we have,” said Mr. Murray. “What an oversight.”

“We're terrible parents,” groaned Ali.

“I don't think we've ever thought about him growing up,” Miss Grace said. There was silence. “We all tell him it's going to be fine, but we haven't been acting as if it will be. There's been too much moment to moment with Danny, we need to start acting and planning like he has a normal future. Agreed?”

He heard a general murmur of agreement from Ali and Mr. Murray. Then, Miss Grace’s sharp tone-“Danny, are you eavesdropping?”

“What?” Danny replied, popping into the kitchen. “Why, what were you saying?”

Ali handed him his lunch bag. “Nothing. We just love you. Have a good day!”

“You, too,” said Danny. “Tell me all about your job when I get home.”

“And you tell me about your school day,” said Ali.

“Deal.”

Danny got a hug from Mr. Murray. Ali said he wanted a hug too, and he chased Danny out of the kitchen, waving his arms wildly. Danny fled, screaming in terror and laughing.

Miss Grace had to try to start the old wagon a few times, ignition grinding.

“The old girl really doesn't like this cold,” she muttered.

“Me neither,” said Danny.

On the way to school, Miss Grace told Danny that he could either walk, take the bus, or ride a bike from now on. He said he'd prefer it, really. Being driven seemed kind of childish. She said she'd figured he'd feel that way and she'd sign the form for the bus at the school office so he would have that option. Today, though, she'd be there to pick him up at 2:15 in the car line.

“What if Church and Unwen want to hang out after school?”

“Then you may, but I want to meet them.”

“Okay,” he said.

She seemed very firm about it. He'd never had any friends to meet before, and he had the idea she was trying to figure out what the proper parent protocol was. He could feel her making a mental checklist, ticking off the box for Asking to Meet Friends.

“There it is,” Miss Grace said.

The words Eddystone Middle School were deeply carved into the front of a long, two story brick building that looked like an ancient courthouse or prison. Not terribly inviting.

“Enzo told me they're building a new high school right next to the middle school,” informed Miss Grace. “It should be ready by the time you're in ninth grade. Good thing, too. The old one was falling down when I went there. It must be completely disintegrating by now.”

Danny didn't want to think about ninth grade, thank you. He wanted to focus on surviving sixth grade first.

They entered the building as a bell rang. There was no one in the hallway. Everyone's in class already, thought Danny. Good. He’d been hoping he wouldn't have to enter the hectic before class battle fray in the hallways of an unfamiliar school.

Miss Grace stood inside the front door, surveying the terrain. “Wow, it smells exactly the same,” she declared. “Chalk, dirty mops, and bologna.”

And stress, Danny added silently.

She headed for the office door to their left. “Come along, Danny.”

The office was small and quiet, smelled of paper, and had lots of potted green plants around. A lady with bleached-blonde hair and glasses peered up at them from behind a Ficus on the long desk that separated the visitors from the staff. A colorful wooden sign faced them from the counter top declaring that “TODAY is the DAY to LEARN something NEW!”

“May I help you?” said the lady.

Miss Grace bustled up to the counter and did what she did best- take care of details. She chatted politely but quickly, making sure everything was in order. She turned in papers, and was given papers. She signed things.

Danny, too restless to sit, paced around looking at the pictures on the wall until he heard Miss Grace calling his name.

“Huh?” said Danny.

“Danny, this is Miss Rux, she's the school secretary.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Danny.

“Nice to meet you, too,” said Miss Rux. She handed Danny several sheets of paper. They had his class schedule, a school map, his locker number, and combination on it. Danny was thrown into an immediate panic. He didn't know where anything was, map or no map. He couldn’t do this.

“Do you want me to get someone to show you around?” asked Miss Rux, in a tone that suggested she’d seen a few panicky new students in her time.

Danny desperately wanted her to summon Church or Unwen to help him, but that might make him look stupid to them, so he pulled himself together with mighty effort. He took a breath.

“Nope,” he said. “Just point me in the right direction.”

Miss Grace gave him a quick hug and told him she'd pick him up after school today, just today, and after that, they could figure out if he was taking the bus or what, and then she took off like a shot. He was left alone with Miss Rux. He gave her the best smile he could manage.

She walked him to the office door and pointed down the hall.

“Go down to the first set of hallways and make a right. The sixth-grade units are down there. You'll come to the locker area for your unit, it's clearly marked. Take a minute to put your things away, and then head down to your unit.”

Danny looked at his paper. Unit: Piscataqua. “Pi-pis,” He looked at her quizzically.

“Pis-cat-eh-kwa,” she enunciated carefully. “It's a river near here.”

“Ah.”

“You're in Mrs. Brown's homeroom, and you'd better hurry or it'll be time for math already.” She winked.

“Yes, Ma'am. Thanks.”

She smiled. “Good luck.”

Danny followed her directions to the lockers and located his. After five tries and some quiet swearing, he managed to get it open and stow his winter gear. Hitching his backpack over his shoulder, and hoping it didn't smell like bat crap and he couldn’t tell because he was used to it, he followed the signs to the Piscataqua unit.

Instead of everyone being lumped together like in his old school, they split up the kids here into different teams down separate hallways. Each hall had four classrooms of their own. It was very contained and orderly, and Danny liked it. In his old school, you had to wander all over to get to your next class, giving certain people ample opportunity to haze and terrorize him.

The hall was silent, save for some quiet murmuring behind each door. Each door had the teacher's name and subject on a plaque beside it.

He found Mrs. Brown's room. She was the language arts teacher. He stood outside the door, working up the courage to go in. He stood there for a little too long. He forced himself to put his hand on the doorknob.

The door whipped open, scaring the hell out of him. A short woman with a cross, reddish face greeted him. “Daniel Hallow?”

“Yes,” he said. “I mean, no-”

“Are you waiting for a written invitation?” she said.

“No,” he said. Two seconds in the door and already getting yelled at.

She gestured to him to come into the classroom. He held his breath and stepped in.

Looking around quickly he was relieved to see Unwen and Church sitting over to the left. They smiled and waved happily. Unwen made a quick and noiseless 'yes!' gesture with both fists.

Over to the right near the windows was Ezra Harker, who looked as out of place in a classroom environment as a mountain lion. He was leaning back, his long frame ending in crossed black boots, staring out the window. His arms were folded in boredom.

“You may take a seat, Daniel,” said Miss Brown. “Over there.” She pointed to the empty seat behind Ezra. Church and Unwen looked disappointed. There was an empty seat right next to them.

Danny walked over to his seat. He tried to acknowledge Ezra, but Ezra was staring out the window like the classroom didn’t exist. Danny plunked his backpack down and sat.

“Be on time from now on, Daniel,” instructed Mrs. Brown.

“Danzellan,” said Danny.

“What?” said the teacher.

Danny could feel all of the attention he was getting, the new kid attention, now amplified by the fact that he had spoken. He could feel himself turning red under the spotlight. “My name. It's Danzellan,” he said. “Not Daniel.”

“I have never heard that name. Is that a real name?” she asked. She checked something on her desk.

Some of the kids snickered.

“It's a family name,” said Danny stiffly.

“Knowing the Wildwood family,” said Miss Brown, “that's not surprising.” Some of the kids laughed, but others looked at him with some sympathy. He suspected Mrs. Brown was not well liked. Also, the mention of the name Wildwood had more than a few people turning to look at him with curiosity.

“I like it,” said a girl sitting across the aisle from Danny. She had long black hair and a caramel complexion, speaking with a light, lilting accent. She leaned toward Danny. “People think my name is funny too, but it's kind of normal in India.”

“What's your name?” asked Danny.

“Aishwarya,” said the girl. “But people just call me Ash.”

“Danny,” said Danny, pointing to himself.

“Hi, Danny,” she said and smiled.

Danny smiled back and stopped himself from saying anything else. She was being nice to him, and he didn't want to screw it up. Especially since she was the prettiest girl he'd ever spoken to outside of his imagination.

He carefully turned his attention away from her and studied his schedule. Other than a familiar sick feeling at the sight of the words “lunch period”, always a difficult time for him, it looked pretty manageable. Especially with all the classrooms located so close together.

He became aware that Mrs. Brown was busy haranguing some other student now, teasing her about her hair. He shot a look over to Church and Unwen. After carefully making sure that the teacher wasn't looking at her, Unwen mouthed to Danny, 'She is such a bitch’.

A doughy looking boy with freckles seated toward the back raised his hand violently fast. “Mrs. Brown!” he said.

“Yes, Ian?”

“Unwen Shaw just called you a name.”

Unwen sat stock still and furious, glaring at the boy Ian. “I did not,” she said.

The teacher put her hands on her hips. “Is that so. And what name did she call me?”

“The one that starts with a B,” said Ian righteously. “The B-word.”

“I didn't!” protested Unwen.

Technically she hadn't, thought Danny. She hadn't said anything, just mouthed it.

“I was looking right at her,” said Danny. “That's not what she said.” He spoke up before he'd realized he'd done it.

The entire class turned to look at him, including Mrs. Brown whose eyes were narrowed and shooting daggers at him.

“So what did she say?” asked Mrs. Brown. She tapped her foot.

I'm in it now, thought Danny. Gotta see it through. He hadn't stuck up for Unwen with the Vulpeys the other day, now he had to do it or that would be two failures as a friend in less than a week.

He looked Mrs. Brown right in the eye and said, “She was trying to tell me something about class.” He turned to Unwen. “Did you say we have math together or we don't have math together?”

“Math is my last class,” said Unwen quickly.

“Darn,” said Danny. “So we don't have math together.”

“Nope.”

“That's too bad.”

Mrs. Brown looked suspicious, confused, and annoyed. “How does math even look or sound like-”

The bell rang and everyone started to get up. Danny jammed his schedule in his pocket and grabbed his backpack.

Mrs. Brown pointed at him. “To be continued, Danzellan,” she said. Her finger swung to Unwen. “Both of you.” Irritably she yanked open a drawer in her desk and rummaged around. “If you kids think-”

Danny never heard what she thought they were thinking because she screamed, a high and young sound. She pulled her hand out of her desk and wiped it on her front.

“There is a dead animal!” she choked. “There is a dead squirrel in my desk! A dead squirrel!”

Some kids were bailing out the door, other kids rushed forward to see. Amid cries of delighted disgust from the latter group, one student sauntered easily through the crowd, taking his time. Ezra Harker, a small, satisfied smile on his face, passed like a ghost through the other kids and vanished into the hall.

Danny let the flow of people move him out the door. Church and Unwen appeared at his side.

“What the hell?” said Church. “I wonder who did that?”

“She deserved it,” said Unwen. “Ugh, watch her try to pin it on me.”

“Ian's a toad,” said Church. He turned to Danny. “He's always sucking up to teachers. His mom's a teacher at the high school so the teachers all like him, like that magically makes him a good person or something.”

Unwen smiled at Danny. “Thanks, by the way. For sticking up for me.”

“No problem.” He was flooded with a good feeling. He had done the right thing and lived.

Danny had math next, but Church and Unwen did not. They agreed to meet up at lunch to check their class schedules and discuss Monster Hunt, then they parted ways. Math was right next to Mrs. Brown's class. He was glad he had Language Arts after lunch and recess so he could try and figure out how to deal with Mrs. Brown before they met up again. Maybe she’d forget him.

The math teacher, Mr. Kazinski ('Mr. Kaz' it said on the blackboard) directed him to sit over by the window at the back, virtually in the same spot as in his homeroom. Ezra Harker was in front of him again. This time he managed to catch the boy's eye as he passed and was rewarded with a slightly raised eyebrow before Ezra turned his gaze to the notebook in front of him, doodling with a pencil. Other than Ezra, Danny didn't know anyone at all in this class.

Mr. Kaz immediately impressed Danny as the kind of teacher that tried a little too hard to be cool. The band tee shirt and jeans he wore were a blatant attempt to look like one of the kids, his brown hair was gelled into a short faux-hawk, and the purple Crocs on his feet struck Danny as an intentional effort to appear offbeat and funky. Danny disliked the man immediately.

Danny allowed his attention to wander since he was being largely ignored while the teacher talked and wrote problems on the board. Numbers tended to put Danny to sleep.

He became aware that Mr. Kaz was saying his name. “Dan?”

“Danny,” Danny corrected automatically.

Mr. Kaz rewarded him with a huge, fake, 'we're all cool here together' smile and pointed to a problem on the chalkboard.

“Um,” said Danny.

“Got the answer, pal?” said Mr. Kaz. “It's a pretty simple problem.”

Some of the other kids laughed and he was the center of attention again. Dammit. He looked at the problem on the board.

6.5 x (5.5 – 4.5) + 2.5 = ?

Danny had discovered the previous school year that the moment math started to involve parenthesis he was lost. Even with Mr. Murray's gentle and patient help.

“Um,” he said again, trying to buy time. There was some more laughter and then whispering. He was so focused on the blackboard and on his own embarrassment he almost missed Ezra casually propping up his notebook and moving it to the right a little so Danny could see it. Written on the page, hidden among doodles like one of those eye-teaser puzzles, was the number 9.

“Nine?” said Danny.

“Yes!” said Mr. Kaz. “Awesome. Awesome-sauce. And how did you get that answer, Dan my man?”

“I guessed,” Danny said. The other kids laughed again, but this time it had a different tone. It was more like he'd made a joke they thought was funny, or something.

“Well,” said Mr. Kaz, “good guessing buddy, but you need to know how to do the problem, eh, Dan?”

Danny smiled in an appropriately self-deprecating way. Call me 'Dan' one more time, he thought. I dare you. He imagined himself smacking Mr. Kaz in the face with his ruler and felt better.

He managed to get through the rest of math class without incident. Before he left Mr. Kaz clapped him on the back and engulfed him in forced friendliness while giving him some practice sheets to take home.

Great, thought Danny. Fantastic. He gave Mr. Kaz a cheesy thumbs up.

His next class was social studies, where the only person he recognized was Ash. He smiled at her and she blessed him with a smile back. He felt wobbly for a moment.

Social studies was taught by Miss Foley. She was a bit dull and dusty, but sincere and nice. She gave Danny a warm welcome before continuing a lesson on ancient Greece they'd started a week before. She allowed Danny to take a spot in the back corner and read the chapter of the textbook they'd been working on so he could catch up a little. Her class was subdued and relaxed and he liked the feeling of it. He was reading about Socrates when the bell rang and Danny was released to lunch and recess.

He had no idea where he was going. Anticipating this, Unwen and Church were waiting for him by the lockers. Their lockers, by a stroke of luck, were close to his, in the same row.

Danny stowed his backpack and grabbed the lunch Ali had made him. Unwen had brought lunch, too. Church was getting school lunch.

The cafeteria, unlike the grim green cement room at his old school, was airy and open with two walls lined with windows. The serving area looked more like a restaurant, and there was a deli area where they made subs and salads separate from the hot lunch line. Walking in with two friends made it less intimidating, as it took a lot of the guesswork out of where to sit.

For the first time in his life, Danny Hallow entered a school lunchroom in a semi-relaxed state, managing to smile at people and not come across as a skulking reject. Unwen led him over to a table by the windows while Church dashed off to get in the lunch line.

“How's it going so far?” Unwen asked as she pulled out her food.

“Pretty good,” said Danny. “Do we have any classes together at all?” He showed her his schedule.

She looked at it, disappointed. “No,” she said. “Just homeroom and related arts period. We've got library today.” She took a bite out of her sandwich and then saw Danny's lunch emerging from his cooler bag. Her eyes widened. “What is that?” she asked.

“Linguini with shrimp,” said Danny. He checked his other containers. “And two rolls, and braised carrots, and pita chips with hummus.” He poked into his bag. “And a fruit smoothie,” he said, pulling out the container Ali used for his drinks. In the bottom of the lunch bag was an Ali note that had a heart drawn on it. Aw, though Danny, and stuffed it in his pocket before anyone saw it.

“For real,” said Unwen, “that is the coolest lunch I've ever seen.” Then, “What the frick is hummus?”

Danny considered that. “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s good though.”

Church plunked down with his tray of square pizza and a jello cup and expressed similar sentiments about Danny's lunch. “All of that stuff sounds gross,” said Church, “but it sure is fancy.” He bit into his pizza and spent the next ten minutes recovering from Lava Cheese Effect.

Danny didn't want them thinking he was stuck up or anything. He explained about Ali being a chef. “You should come over for lunch or dinner sometime,” he said. “My Keepers want to meet you.”

They exchanged a look and Danny wondered if he'd been too eager or desperate, and then Unwen said, “My mom won't let me come to your house.”

“Mine either,” said Church. He busily looked anywhere but at Danny.

“Why not?” asked Danny.

“Well,” said Unwen, “I mean, you gotta admit there's been a lot of weird stuff that's happened there. Murders and whatnot. Your Uncle, your grandparents, a bunch of people at that party in the 70s-”

“What?” said Danny.

“And,” Unwen continued awkwardly, “not just the, you know, murders and mysterious deaths and disappearances, but I mean, like, the house has such a weird reputation.”

“Like, in general,” said Church.

“Yeah,” said Unwen. She saw the look on Danny's face and misinterpreted it, rushing to say, “Hey, we like you! We like you a lot. You're awesome. We just, we can't, our parents are-” She stopped, at a loss.

“They'll have problems with us going to Gnomewood,” said Church. “It's not just Gnomewood, it's that whole area, the woods, and the trailer park, and that creepy clearing where the Beast lives.”

“The Beast?” asked Danny.

“Ezra Harker,” said Church. He gestured tinily to where Ezra was sitting in a dark corner, his back to the room, eating an apple and doodling aimlessly in his notebook. He had his head leaning on the hand that contained the apple, slouching over the table. “That's what people call him. Even adults sometimes.”

While Danny was watching, a large boy with spiky brown hair balled up a piece of paper and sent it soaring through the air, where it landed right next to Ezra. Without looking up or missing a beat Ezra picked it up and tossed it into a nearby trash can.

“You're not mad, are you?” said Unwen.

“Mad?”

“That we can't come over,” said Unwen. “It's not about you at all.”

“Oh,” said Danny. “No, I'm not mad. No way.”

Unwen and Church both looked relieved. “If it was up to me,” she said, “I'd be over there in a heartbeat. I always wanted to see inside the place.”

“It's pretty great, I like it a lot,” said Danny. Seeing their distressed faces he said, “It's okay, really.” It's just I didn't know that my home is a notorious house of death, is all, he added to himself. It didn't feel like one. To him, it was the friendliest, most welcoming place he'd ever been. He felt right at home there. Safe.

He twirled his linguini, deep in thought.

“Some people say the land your house is on is cursed,” said Unwen, eyes wide.

Church cut in. “Maybe we should change the subject,” he said. He turned to Danny. “We should play Monster Hunt this weekend,” he said. “At my house. Like, a real campaign. No more messing around.”

Danny nodded. “Okay,” he said. He ate quietly, mostly listening and reacting to Church and Unwen's stories and humorous biographies of the kids around him. He knew he would never remember all the details, but he listened politely and laughed at the right intervals, for once.

People were trickling outside for recess as they were finishing up. One of them was Ezra Harker, walking in a black cloud of his own.

“You wanna go outside?” asked Unwen. “They cancel outdoor recess for the little kids, but we get to decide for ourselves. It's cold, but I mean, we could stay in, or-”. She left it open-ended.

Church also seemed to be letting Danny make the call, so he opted for outside. He wasn't really an outside recess kind of guy, but he had his reasons. They were stupid reasons. He was considering ill-advised action here and possibly social suicide, but he was determined to do it anyway. They all went and got their coats.

As they headed for the doors they passed by the trash can Ezra had been sitting near. Danny reached in quickly and snagged the crumpled note. As they walked out, his friends slightly in front of him, he un-crumpled it.

It was a poorly done drawing of Ezra. He was tall and hairy, with sharp teeth and big dumb eyes, drool dripping from his lips, claws dragging at the end of his hands. Wavy lines radiated from this depiction, stating in universally understood cartoon language that he smelled bad. Scrawled at the top of the note it said, “THE BEAST” and under that, 'Why don't you do everyone a favor and kill yourself'.

Danny crumpled it up again and threw it in the next trash can.

They put their lunch bags over by the wall where the other kids had left theirs, and went out onto the exposed blacktop, oily-dark against the surrounding snow. The playground was shabby but impressive in its size. There were stairs leading down to where the basketball hoops and foursquare areas were and Church and Unwen both headed in that direction. Instead of following them, Danny cautiously looked over to the side of the stairs where a dark, hunched figure had stationed itself.

Ezra was doodling, face close to his notebook. Kids unconsciously gave him a wide berth as they went up and down the stairs. He had a keep out vibe that radiated six feet in every direction like a force shield.

Danny gathered his nerve and braced himself for whatever might happen. Without a word to Church and Unwen, he broke away from them, walked over and sat next to Ezra, hands on his knees, leaning forward, trying to act casual. His heart was pounding in his throat, waiting to see what kind of reaction he was going to get. Not just from Ezra, either.

Without looking up, Ezra said calmly, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Caught a goblin yet?” Danny asked.

“No,” said Ezra. His pencil swished across the paper as he created shading.

A sketch, not a doodle, Danny noticed. Ezra was working on a highly detailed dragon. He'd never seen one like it before.

“That's really good,” said Danny.

“Thanks. Get lost.”

Danny glanced up to see where Church and Unwen were. They were standing across the basketball area, looking at him as if he'd lost his mind. They weren't the only ones. There was a small crowd gathering, watching as if expecting a massacre.

“I wanted to say thanks for the help in math class,” Danny said.

“It's not that I like you or anything,” said Ezra, “it's more like I hate the teachers. Especially Mr. Kazinski.”

“Yeah,” agreed Danny wholeheartedly. He mimicked the teacher's sticky- friendly tone of voice. “Hey, buddy,” he said. “Hey, pal.” He did flaky finger-guns to punctuate. “Let's have fun with math, homies.”

Something flickered across Ezra's face briefly that might have been suppressed amusement, or burgeoning aggression, he couldn’t be sure.

“He's trying way too hard with those Crocs,” Danny said.

A very small smile twitched at the corners of Ezra’s mouth, at odds with his furrowed brow.

“So, I wanted to thank you. Y'know, for helping me. And, um, I wanted to say again that I would really like to help you.”

“Help me what?”

“Catch one,” said Danny impatiently. “Come on, you know what I'm talking about.” Ezra stiffened, the small smile disappearing.

Oops, too pushy, Danny realized. He wasn't aware of what he was doing or why he was doing it, but he was approaching Ezra the way you'd deal with a wounded tiger. Very carefully.

Ezra slowly turned to look at Danny. His expression was difficult to interpret. Danny prepared to bolt, if need be.

Ezra looked Danny right in the eye, gaze unwavering. It was intimidating, but Danny didn't look away.

“Okay,” Ezra said, ”Suppose that I agree. Maybe. But probably not. But suppose I do.”

“Oh-uh-okay,” said Danny uncertainly.

Ezra turned back to his drawing. “I'm going to ask you a riddle.”

“Say what now?”

“I'm going to ask you a riddle, and if you're smart enough to come up with the answer you can help me,” Ezra said, without looking up. “Consider it an intelligence test to gauge your usefulness.”

Danny's throat tightened. Riddles were right up there with a bunch of other things he sucked at, like tests, drawing, sports, and camping. He could never figure riddles out. They always made sense once he knew the answer, but they were incomprehensible to him beforehand.

He had a terrible feeling that this was a test he couldn't flunk, or Ezra would never give him another chance. This was it. His only opening, and he needed to get it right. He wanted to be friends with Ezra Harker. He didn't know why, but he did. It felt crucial.

That small, quiet voice in Danny’s head told him that Ezra wanted friends too, even if he claimed the opposite. Because Ezra was lonely. He didn't know it himself, but he was. It was eating him alive. So he was offering Danny a sliver of a chance, out of his need. Danny took a deep breath.

“All right,” he agreed.

Ezra thought for a minute. “Okay, this is an easy one. You’d have to be an idiot not to figure it out, and I don’t need any help from idiots. Got that?”

“Yes,” Danny said.

“Here goes,” Ezra said. “Once you have it, you want to share it. Once you share it, you don't have it. What is it?” He broke eye contact and waited silently, scribbling with his pencil, back to his drawing, not looking up.

Crap, thought Danny. He might as well have babbled a bunch of gibberish. In Danny's head riddles sounded like, “blahblahblah, blah blah, blahblahblah.” Like word problems. His brain could never make sense of-

Wait, thought Danny. Wait a minute.

It made sense, but how he knew it did not.

Danny decided to go for it.

“A secret?” he said timidly.

Ezra started, dropping his pencil, picking it up quickly. His surprised expression was almost comical.

“Yeah, that's right,” he said.

“Oh, good!” said Danny, relieved. One point to the magic chalkboard, he thought. “So when do we start?”

“How did you know that?” asked Ezra.

“What do you mean?”

“You didn't solve the riddle. I could tell you weren't working it out.” The silver gimlet glare pinned Danny again. “It was like you remembered it or....something.” He pointed at Danny. “You've heard it before, haven't you?”

“No,” said Danny.

“Bullshit,” said Ezra. “I should ask you another one. Or maybe I should just tell you to get lost. I don't know why I'm even talking to you right now-”

“I've never heard that riddle before,” Danny interrupted, “but you're right, I didn't figure it out.”

“So what are the other options, then?” asked Ezra.

Psychic chalkboards are hard to explain, thought Danny. “I'll show you,” he said. “If you come to my house after school.”

“You mean your grand estate, my liege?” said Ezra.

“My house,” said Danny. “It's just a house.”

“Everyone around here knows it's not just a house,” said Ezra. He looked intrigued in spite of himself though. Danny could see multiple thoughts shooting around in Ezra's mind all at once, flitting across his face like weather.

Eventually, he nodded. To himself, not Danny.

“Okay,” Ezra said. “All right.” Once again, to himself.

Danny couldn't believe it. “Really?” he said. “Awesome. So, like, three o'clock?”

“Yeah,” said Ezra. “Whatever.”

“We'll plan a goblin hunt,” said Danny.

“Yeah, okay.” He scribbled. “You can go now. I’m already regretting this.”

“Oh, sure.” Danny stood up. He looked over at his friends, who were still rooted to the ground with horror and fascination, along with almost everyone else around. He headed toward them.

“Hey,” he heard Ezra say. Danny turned back around, and Ezra was flipping back through his sketchbook. He found the page he was looking for and showed it to Danny hesitantly.

An extremely accurate depiction of Mr. Kaz, dressed in self-consciously youthful attire including a concert tee for 'Panic! At the Disco', being devoured by a fat, joyous purple crocodile. It was titled, “Revenge of the Crocs”.

Danny busted out laughing. “That's great,” he said. He waved. “See you later.”

“Yeah.” Self-conscious of the attention that was being drawn, Ezra bent his head over his notebook until his hair was touching the paper, effectively screening his face.

Danny was conscious of general staring as he walked over to Unwen and Church. They looked at him like he'd just pried himself out of a bear trap and escaped unscathed. A mixture of admiration, confusion, and slight disgust colored their faces.

“What was all that about?” asked Unwen.

“Nothing,” said Danny.

“Nothing?” she said.

Danny sighed. “He actually helped me get your shoe on the ice the other day,” Danny said. “I wanted to say thanks, that’s all.”

“He did?” Church asked. “Why?”

“I don’t know why,” Danny said, shrugging. “Maybe he’s not as bad as you think he is.”

“We’ve known him a while now,” Unwen said. “He’s probably worse than we think he is.”

Danny wiped his hair away from his face clumsily with his gloves. He looked at his new friends, not knowing how to explain. He decided to go for the old redirection technique.

“Anyway,” he said, “do you guys have any ideas for a Monster Hunt campaign?”

“Ooh,” said Church. “I had an idea for a haunted castle adventure.”

They hung out by the monkey bars, talking about Monster Hunt for the rest of recess. He thought they might turn on him for talking to Ezra, as he kept expecting them to do any moment for all sorts of reasons, but they were still plenty friendly and happy to include him.

When they asked him if he wanted to hang out after school, he told them he had to go straight home. They made plans for the weekend to play Monster Hunt, detailing what they'd need, what snacks they should have, and how long the game should take.

The bell rang, and they made their way back to their lockers, laughing and groaning as they peeled away their cold-weather gear.

“Let’s stay inside for recess tomorrow,” Church said through frozen lips.

Next up, Danny had language arts with Mrs. Brown, which he wasn't looking forward to. Happily, he discovered that one of the helper teachers was leading the class due to Mrs. Brown having a minor nervous breakdown over the squirrel carcass in her desk.

Danny was seated away from Ezra this time, who was across the room in his spot by the windows. He spent most of his time drawing or staring outside, and Danny noticed that kids and teachers alike tended to act like he wasn't there. When worksheets were passed around or work given out, he did do them and turned them in, but was never attentive or fully present. When the helper teacher mentioned poor Mrs. Brown and whoever was responsible should be ashamed and they'd be found out eventually if they didn't confess, he saw a small smile cross Ezra's face, his eyes brightening, and then it vanished.

Danny wondered where he'd gotten the squirrel. He hoped it had already been dead and that Ezra hadn't killed it or anything like that, just to play a joke.

Since language arts turned into a long lecture about the danger of practical jokes, there wasn't much to do. His next class was library, as Unwen had said. He was happy that he was able to spend some quiet class time with his two friends.

The library was pretty impressive for a school library. It looked more like something you'd find in a college. The teacher, the appropriately named Mrs. Reading, though it was pronounced 'Redding' he was told, was a short lady with a gargantuan bun of black hair and a friendly smile. For library they were allowed to wander and talk among themselves. They could check out one book.

Danny was elated to find a book on special effects makeup and decided on that one. “It's written by Tom Savini!” he whisper-exclaimed.

“Who's that?” asked Church.

“He did all the makeups and practical effects for the original George Romero zombie movies,” said Danny. “He's awesome.” He happily flipped through pages and pages of gore and latex and ways to make fake blood spurt in the right direction.

He looked up to see Unwen and Church both looking at him with funny smiles on their faces. “What?” he said.

“You're kind of a weird little guy, you know that?” said Church. Danny felt a moment of panic until it sank in that the tone in which he'd said it wasn't mean at all.

Unwen leaned over to get a better look at Danny's book. “Cool,” she said. “Do you know how to do that stuff?”

Danny, who had stolen a fortune in Miss Grace's makeup to create fake scars and injuries over the years, did indeed know how to do that stuff. He nodded.

“That'll be great at Halloween,” said Unwen, getting excited. “Maybe you could make us all into zombies and we can join the zombie dance in the parade.”

“I love doing zombies,” said Danny. “And Halloween. That's my birthday.”

“What?”

“Halloween. October 31st. My birthday.”

“Shut up, for real?” said Unwen.

“That's the coolest birthday ever,” said Church. “And it works for you somehow.”

Danny noted that Ezra wasn't in the library, but didn't say anything. He felt he should stay off the subject. At one point though, Unwen volunteered that Ezra was banned from the library and had to take music class twice instead.

“He didn't return books,” Unwen explained. “When the librarian complained he threatened her, so he got kicked out of the library.”

“Then,” said Church, “they had him in gym two days and he got kicked out of gym for fighting, so now he goes to music because he can just sit there.”

“Like he does all day,” said Unwen.

“Yeah,” said Church. “Everyone knows he's really stupid. We figure he just gets passed along because teachers don't want him around in the same grade again.”

Danny made a non-committal sound. He knew Ezra wasn't stupid, that was obvious. If everyone thought he was, it was because he wanted them to think so. Danny wasn't going to give him away or say anything to make people question it if it was that important to him, but he didn't understand why they didn't see it for themselves.

This impression was reinforced in his last period, which was science. He'd always kind of liked science as a concept, but it had been just as miserable in his old school as everything else.

The science teacher, Mrs. Beadle, was a tiny woman who looked about eighty-five years old. She had stiff shoulder length hair and bright red lipstick. Her eyes sparkled when she talked about science and she had more energy than most teachers half her age. She zoomed around the room lecturing enthusiastically about volcanoes in a no-nonsense but humorous manner that reminded Danny of Miss Grace.

Mrs. Beadle greeted Danny as he came in and told him to sit anywhere, so he went over to the one table that had a lone occupant and sat down next to him. Ezra stiffened but said nothing. He doodled.

During the class discussion a previous incident at the school came up. One of the kids asked Mrs. Beadle if they'd ever figured out how the practical joke in the teacher's lounge had been carried out, and had it been fixed. Danny perked up and fixed all ears on the conversation.

The previous year someone had rigged the electrical system in the teacher's lounge so that if you flipped on one of the light switches, the sprinklers went off in there. They had never been able to fix it, so they'd put masking tape over the switch and written “NO” on it. Not, 'don't use' or 'leave off', just “NO”.

They had never figured out who had done it. Danny looked over slowly at Ezra. Ezra glanced up at him. They made eye contact for a second, and Ezra lifted and dropped his shoulders quickly and went back to his drawing with exaggerated nonchalance.

Never figured out who did it, huh? thought Danny. I've been here for five seconds and I know who did it. The impulse to laugh at the mental image of Mr. Kaz wandering into the teacher's lounge, flipping on a light switch and being immediately drenched by sprinklers was overpowering. He had to put his head down until he pulled it together.

When the bell rang it came as a shock to Danny. I made it, he thought. I made it through my first day of school in a new town and nothing horrible happened. He was elated.

He turned to Ezra. “See you later?”

Ezra's face was a mask of put-upon, highly tested patience. “Yes,” he said. “I already said so, didn't I?”

They got up and walked to the lockers together, not on purpose. They were headed in the same direction. Again.

Danny noticed a funny thing as they walked, and he realized it wasn't the first time. When he was near Ezra it was like they were in an invisible bubble. Everyone else was on the outside. He'd noticed it at the library first but hadn't given it much thought.

Ezra stopped at his own locker and Danny moved on, waving at him. Ezra was aware of the gesture but didn't return it and refused to look up. Most of the other kids standing around were looking at Danny like he was some kind of exotic chimp performing a clever trick. A doomed chimp, teasing a water buffalo.

Church and Unwen were waiting for him at his locker. They chatted as they gathered their things and Danny was cautiously feeling happy. This is what school looked like on TV and in his imagination, but never in his real life. Ash walked by and smiled sweetly at him, making him hot and flustered again.

Unwen said, “You should know something.”

“Hmmm?” said Danny, staring after Ash, but then a hand closed on his shoulder and he jumped, spinning around. Mr. Valkucek, aka Fox, was standing there, smiling.

“Did your first day go okay, Danny?” he asked.

Danny's stomach dropped, but he reminded himself that Fox had been willing to give him the benefit of a doubt. It had been his sister, Wolf, that had been so mean and insulting.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yes, thanks.”

“Making friends?” he said, smiling at Church and Unwen.

“Yup,” said Danny.

“I'm on the school board,” Fox explained as if Danny was entitled to know why he was there. “I was here for a meeting with your principal.” He held up a hand. “Not about you,” he said. “Just a general meeting. Funding, programs, donations, boring things like that.”

“Ah,” said Danny. Also, checking up on the little monster, he thought.

“I brought you this,” said Fox. He pulled an object out of his pocket and held it out. It was a thick, shiny silver pen, very fancy. “It was your uncle's. I ended up with it somehow, but I thought you might like it.”

Danny reached out for it. It was heavy in his hand. The scrollwork and detail were minute and delicate. A large serpent of some kind ate its own tail, wrapping the pen in its scaly embrace.

“Thanks,” he said.

“It's old,” said Fox. “Very old. I'm nearly certain it belonged to one of your great-grandfathers. Back when things like pens were meant to be handed down, not thrown away.”

“Thank you,” said Danny, smiling. He meant it. It was a relief to know this guy was going to treat him like a human being. Maybe he could change his sister's mind. “Thanks, Mr. Val- Valku-”

“Val-q-check,” he enunciated. “It's an odd one. Just call me Doctor V, like everyone else.”

“Doctor V,” said Danny. Inside Danny's head he'd always be Fox, though.

“See you again soon, Danny,” he said. He nodded to Unwen and Church. “Kids,” he said. He walked off down the hall. He noticed some students greeted him as he walked by.

“You know him?” asked Unwen.

“He's a friend of my Keepers,” said Danny. “He knew my uncle, too.”

“He substitute teaches sometimes,” said Church. “He's pretty okay. He really is a doctor or something.”

“Oh, I thought maybe it was his nightclub DJ name,” said Danny. Church laughed. Danny turned to Unwen. “You said I should know something,” he said. It had been bothering him the whole time they'd been talking to Doctor V.

“Shit, I'm gonna miss the bus,” said Church, “Gotta bolt!”

Unwen shooed him off. She and Danny waved at him as he shot through the halls. He wasn't the only one. Last calls for buses were coming over the intercom and kids were scrambling everywhere.

“I ride my bike,” said Unwen. “I like being on my own schedule.”

“You were saying?” Danny prompted.

Unwen looked around. “Let's walk,” she said. As they strolled along headed for the front doors, Unwen said, “People are talking about you.”

Danny's stomach jumped a little. “What are they saying?” he asked cautiously.

“Mostly everyone thinks you're totally interesting,” she said. “I mean, really. Like even the popular kids were asking me and Church about you.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, I've never talked to some of these people before today.”

“Oh,” said Danny. “Asking what?”

“Stuff,” she said. “Where you're from, if you're staying, why no one knew there was another Wildwood, what you're like, blahblah, stuff like that.” She hesitated. Here it comes, thought Danny. “Also they just kinda, y'know, wanted to know why you're talking to The Beast. Like, going out of your way.”

Danny shrugged and shook his head. “I told you why, he helped me.” he said.

“If you say so,” she said slowly. “It's just, y'know,” she sighed. “He's horrible, Danny. Really, really horrible.”

“I think he's interesting,” said Danny.

“Interesting?” she said. “Danny, he lies, he steals, he's filthy, he's mean, he's stupid. He's, he's-” she seemed at a loss for words. “He's a bully. He bullies the bullies. He even bullies the teachers. They're all scared of him. Grown-ups are scared of him.”

“Hmm,” said Danny.. He remembered the drawing the big kid had thrown at Ezra, probably trying to get him to retaliate and get himself in trouble. That had happened to him at his old school a few times. Danny suspected it wasn't as one-sided as Unwen believed.

Things happen that no one sees, he thought. They only see what happens after.

“He's so weird,” she said, her face filled with genuine concern. “I get that we're weird too, I get it, okay? Church and me, we don't, y'know, fit in a lot of places, but Danny, Ezra's Bad Weird. He's School Shooter Weird.” She looked into Danny's eyes intently and whispered, “He's 'Grows Up to be a Serial Killer' level weird.”

“Maybe,” said Danny. “Maybe not.”

“I watch a lot of crime TV,” said Unwen. “I know what I'm talking about.”

“I'm sure you do,” said Danny. They were out the front doors by now and Danny could see Miss Grace's Volvo in the car line. “Can you come to meet Miss Grace? She asked, and since you can't come to my house...,” he trailed off, trying to look sad.

“Sure,” said Unwen, looking guilty.

Mission accomplished, thought Danny.

Miss Grace lowered the windows as the two of them looked in at her. “This is Unwen,” said Danny. “Unwen Shaw, this is Miss Gloria Grace.”

“Hi,” said Unwen with a bright smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Miss Grace offered her a ride, but Unwen said she had her bike, it was fine. “My bike time is my alone time,” said Unwen. “I have four sisters.”

“Say no more,” said Miss Grace, smiling.

Danny said see ya as he got into the car quickly. So cold, he thought. So freaking cold. He huddled in front of the heating vents.

Miss Grace pulled away from the curb, slowly winding her way through the end of the school day crowd. “So, how did it go,” she said, too casually.

“Good,” said Danny. “Great, really.”

“Really?” Miss Grace said. She sounded more surprised than she'd probably intended to. Danny tried not to take offense. She had reason to assume it would not have gone well, lots of reasons. Her experiences with him for his whole life up to this point, for example.

“Really, really,” Danny reassured her. “Everyone was pretty nice.”

“Good,” she said, relaxing a little. “Did you invite your friends over?”

“Um,” said Danny. He didn't know how to finish.

Miss Grace breathed out a long, slow breath through her nose. “It's a problem, isn't it?” she said. “They won't come to Gnomewood.”

“Their parents won't let them,” admitted Danny. “How’d you know?”

“We used to have the same problem with our parents,” said Miss Grace. “Of course, we just did it anyway,” she added, with a slight hint of smugness.

“How come you didn't tell me my uncle was murdered?” Danny asked.

Her grip tightened on the wheel. “Well, that’s a whopping topic change, Danny,” she said, “I suppose we thought it would be best not to go into any detail until you asked.” She looked over at him. “You didn't ask. Besides, murder is a very strong word when the coroner said it was most likely wild animals.”

True, he thought. He had never asked how the man had died, not once had he even thought about it. He'd just figured a heart attack or embolism or something adults died of.

“You're right, I guess,” he said. “It's just that Unwen had to tell me all about it and it was kind of embarrassing that she knew and I didn't.”

“I'm sorry.”

“And she says lots of people in my family die or go missing under mysterious circumstances.”

“This is very true,” said Miss Grace. “We told you about Atticus, that accounts for several deaths in the most recent memory.”

“What kind of animals killed my uncle?” Danny asked.

“Goodness, Danny, we don’t know,” she said. “The coroner didn’t know either.”

Danny thought he knew, but still wasn’t sure how to bring it up, so he said, “So, um....only this one friend isn't too afraid or forbidden to come over.”

She perked up. “Which friend is this?” she asked. “Church?”

“Ezra,” Danny said casually as he could manage. “He'll be over around three.”

There was a brief silence. “Ezra Harker?” she said.

“Yup.”

“This dirty boy I keep hearing about who steals and beats people up?” she asked. “The one from the library the other day?”

“Yup.”

“Danny,” she said, sounding tired. “Why on earth would you make friends with someone like that?”

“Because he isn't like that,” Danny said. “Not entirely. And remember, he saved my life.”

She gave him the side-eye. “Fine,” she said. “I'll just hide the valuables, shall I?”

The rest of the drive home was pretty quiet.

Danny ran through the house and back to the kitchen to find Ali and Mr. Murray in there. They greeted him enthusiastically, and Ali burst out, “I aced the job at the Silverton!” He struck a pose. “They L-O-O-OVE me! ¡Están enamorados de mí!”

“Yes!” Danny cheered and pumped his fists in the air.

Ali looked ecstatic. “Creme Brulee, all the way!” he chanted. He and Danny high-fived.

Mr. Murray patted his hands together lightly. “So how was your day, Danny?”

Ali handed Danny a plate of cheese and crackers to put on the table, along with drinks, and he helped put things out before sitting. “Really good, actually,” said Danny. “I have two teachers who are kind of jerky, but the others are okay, and the kids are mostly nice.”

“Mostly nice sounds good to me,” said Mr. Murray. “Homework?”

“A little,” said Danny. “Math.” He made a face.

Miss Grace came in, plunking down her briefcase. “Danny has a friend coming over,” she said.

“Wonderful!” cried Mr. Murray.

“It's the Harker boy,” she elaborated.

“Oh!” said Mr. Murray, looking puzzled but still enthusiastic. “Oh,” he said again. “Interesting.” He aimed a small smile at Danny.

Danny popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. “He helped me in math today,” he said. “Not quite as heroic as saving me from an icy death, but whatever.”

“Math, you say?” said Mr. Murray. “But, I thought he wasn't reputed to be very bright?” His eyes twinkled at Danny.

Danny laughed. The fact that people missed the obvious signs that Ezra Harker was a genius amused him, and as usual Mr. Murray understood everything.

Ali said, “You look happier than I've ever seen you on a school day, anyway.” He ruffled Danny's hair. “I'm glad for you.”

“Thanks.” Danny began to wonder if he'd been as successful as he'd thought at keeping the Keepers from realizing how miserable he'd been. They were so relieved to see him come home from school not looking like a beaten dog.

Mr. Murray smiled at Danny. “I've gotten you a present,” he said.

“A present?” said Danny. Presents from Mr. Murray could be kind of a mixed bag, he reminded himself before he got too excited. Sometimes it was something like his Puppetmaster action figures, other times it was an updated world atlas.

“You bet,” said Mr. Murray. “It's up in your room. I ordered it, but of course Ali had to take it up and assemble it, so he deserves your thanks as well.”

“Assemble it?” said Miss Grace. “What did you get him?” She’d clearly been left out and was prepared to be furious if necessary.

“Just a bigger version of something he already had. He has the space now, so why not?” said Mr. Murray.

Any further discussion was interrupted by the doorknocker's boom. It carried throughout the entire house, bouncing off the walls. Excited, Danny leaped to his feet and ran for the front door.

“Bring him to the kitchen to meet us properly!” Miss Grace called out.

Danny shot through the entrance hall and into the vestibule, then stopped to catch his breath so it wouldn't look as if he'd been running. Calmly, he opened the door. Ezra Harker stood there, looking around the front porch suspiciously.

“Hey,” said Danny, trying to sound casual.

“Should I have used the servant's entrance?” asked Ezra.

“I don't think we have one of those,” said Danny. He gestured for Ezra to come inside. After a moment's hesitation, he did.

As Danny shut the front door, he heard Ezra exclaim, “Anubis!” Ezra was standing in front of the statue of Anubis, a look of contained wonder on his face.

“He's neat, huh?” said Danny. “They told me he came from the old movie theater downtown. My grandfather bought him when they redecorated in the 80s.”

Ezra poked it. “It's clearly a reproduction, so, yeah. Obviously not a real antiquity.” He looked up into its face. Danny could tell he was impressed, though.

“Not real as in ancient,” Danny said. “but it's really Anubis. Hey, and we have a mummy upstairs.”

Ezra looked over, narrowing his eyes. “You're screwing with me,” he said.

“Nope,” said Danny. “It's a real mummy, or at least a sarcophagus. Kind of freaks me out knowing it's there, honestly.”

Danny heard his name being called from the kitchen and they both turned toward it. “Come on,” said Danny. “You have to meet my Keepers.”

“I do?” said Ezra. He followed Danny slowly. “Why?”

“Because they said so,” said Danny. He led Ezra through the entrance hall, the dining room and through the swinging doors. He felt Ezra trying not to crane his neck around to look at everything.

They came into the light and warmth of the kitchen. All three adults looked braced for anything. They'd never seen Ezra except for a fleeting glance of his graceful, thieving form slinking out of the library, and Mr. Murray hadn't seen him at all.

Miss Grace immediately tried to hide her look of horror at the state of him. It was funny how often she wondered aloud where Danny's aversion to dirt had come from. Danny didn't wonder at all.

Ezra flipped his hair and scowled lightly. His eyes darted around the room as if searching for emergency exits.

“This is Ezra Harker,” said Danny. He then introduced each one of his Keepers in turn. They smiled and greeted him politely.

Mr. Murray spoke first. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked, gesturing to the multitude of snacks that Ali was putting on the table. Some fruit had joined the cheese and crackers, small muffins on a plate next to the fruit, and he was busily cutting up something else on the counter.

Ezra's eyes widened at the sight of all of it, but his normal insolence reasserted itself and he shook his head no. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet as if this experience was pure torture.

“Well, you should take some food to your room in case you get hungry,” said Mr. Murray.

“I can have food in my room?” asked Danny. “Really?”

“We can make an exception to that rule when friends are over, I suppose,” said Miss Grace tightly. Her eyes shot daggers at Mr. Murray who smiled gently back.

Danny picked up a couple of plates of snacks, balancing them on his hands, nearly dropping them. Ezra swept in and wordlessly caught the one in the most danger of tilting, taking it from Danny. He helped Danny pick up a couple of drinks, too.

“Moribus facit hominem,” said Mr. Murray in approval.

“I disagree,” said Ezra.

It took a beat or two, but Mr. Murray registered that Ezra had responded. “What is it you think I said?” he asked, amused.

“Manners maketh the man,” said Ezra. “But that's garbage.”

“Oh, yes?” said Mr. Murray.

“In my humble opinion,” said Ezra.

Danny suspected there was nothing humble about Ezra’s opinions.

“What does maketh the man, then, in your opinion?” asked Mr. Murray. Danny had never seen him look more interested in someone in his whole life.

Ezra shrugged. “I don’t know. Intelligence? Ingenuity?” he said. “Those things are light years more important than being polite.”

“Are they?” Mr. Murray said, chin in hand.

“Aren't they?” Ezra challenged. “Why does saying please and thank you and holding doors make you superior? Those things are easy for anyone to do, not a challenge at all.” He crossed his arms. “It’s classist,” he said, eyebrow raised.

Mr. Murray smiled at Ezra. Ezra scowled back.

“Good manners help people get along,” Mr. Murray said.

“Manners are fake,” said Ezra.

“Manners are also a kindness,” said Mr. Murray, “and they show respect.”

“People have to earn my respect,” said Ezra.

“And you, theirs,” said Mr. Murray. “Don't forget that part.”

“I don't need anyone's respect,” said Ezra, then added, “and I never forget anything.I don’t understand forgetting. How can you forget something once you know it?”

“That talent must be very useful,” said Mr. Murray. “Possibly you are eidetic, with a photographic memory, which most people aren’t blessed with.” He sighed sadly. “I wish I could say the same. It seems as if I forget everything I want to remember and remember everything I want to forget.”

Ezra looked pensive. “Well, fuck, I hope that never happens to me,” he said.

Miss Grace convulsed reflexively. Sensing the need to get Ezra away from her before there was an explosion, Ali handed the two boys a couple of extra water bottles and said, “Why don't you go up and see your present now?”

“Okay,” said Danny, relieved. “Let's go,” he said to Ezra and led him over to the back stairs. He wanted to show Ezra the clock and the mummy but didn't want to go traipsing through the house with food and potentially get in trouble for spilling something, so up the back stairs it was.

“Nice to meet you, Ezra,” said Mr. Murray to their retreating backs. Ezra made a huffing noise in return. The door shut behind them.

After a moment of silence, Mr. Murray said, “He's pretty clever, I'd say, considering he understood Latin. Good heavens.”

“Possibly he'd heard the saying before,” said Miss Grace. “Clever he may be, we'll see, but he's filthy and ill-mannered and who knows what else.”

“He helped Danny with the plates, without having to be told,” said Mr. Murray. “It was instinctive.”

“Danny likes him,” said Ali. “That's good enough for me.”

Miss Grace rolled her eyes at Ali. “The last thing Danny needs is a bad influence. Haven't we worked as hard as we could to keep him away from those?”

“Maybe too hard,” mused Mr. Murray.

“Meaning what, Sy?” Miss Grace narrowed her eyes.

“I’m not sure, only a half-formed thought,” said Mr. Murray. “Don't forget, though, Gloria, that we owe that boy a debt of gratitude for saving Danny's life the other day.”

“If that's indeed what he did,” countered Miss Grace. “There's still something about that whole incident we're not being told about, I just know it.” She chopped potatoes vigorously. “He’s omitting details.”

“Hmm, wonder where he learned that from,” said Mr. Murray in an undertone. More audibly, he said, “I’ll say this, that boy has beautiful features under all the layers of grime. Does he remind you of anyone, Gloria?”

Miss Grace shook her head. “Rasputin, maybe? Charles Manson?” She busied herself at the sink, sloshing things. “You tell me.”

“Ali?” asked Mr. Murray.

“Oh, I don't know, Sy,” said Ali, busy and distracted with dinner prep. “David Bowie? Who does he remind you of?” He went back to dealing with marinade.

“Oh, no one I guess,” Silas answered. “Some movie star, maybe.” He shrugged and pretended to go back to reading his paper.

Silas Murray remained silent, occasionally glancing at the closed door to the back stairs, drinking his tea thoughtfully. He’d only ever known one person with a truly photographic memory before, and underneath the black clothes and the dirty hair, Ezra Harker had the face, the bones, and the attitude of that same person. Only the coloring was different.

Silas Murray was a master of puzzles and riddles, and this boy Ezra was both. The spitting image of the best friend and worst enemy he’d ever had.

So, if Atticus Wildwood had never had children, and his only sibling was dead, then where had this boy come from?