in a flash. With Mrs. Greene unable to do anything physical she had probably lost her other clients. Suddenly the amount of the check seemed woefully small.
“But you’ll still work for us,” Patricia said. “As soon as you’re feeling better.”
“I can’t do much for another week,” Mrs. Greene said.
“That’s what the check is supposed to cover,” Patricia said, happy to suddenly have a plan. “But after that I can use your help getting the house back together, and maybe cooking supper, too.”
Mrs. Greene nodded once and closed her eyes, head leaned back against the chair.
“God provides for those who believe,” she said.
“He does,” Patricia said.
They sat silently in the glow of the Christmas tree lights, the colors changing quietly against the walls until Jesse entered the living room, walking slowly, holding a pressed-tin NFL tray in front of him bearing two glasses of iced tea. The ice chimed against the glasses as he walked across the room and lowered the tray to the coffee table.
“Go on, useless,” Mrs. Greene said, and the boy looked at her.
She smiled at him; he smiled back and slipped out of the room.
Mrs. Greene watched Patricia and Kitty sip their iced tea. When she spoke again, her voice was low.
“I need to make that money fast,” she said. “I’m sending my boys up to live with my sister in Irmo for the summer.”
“On vacation?” Patricia asked.
“To keep them alive,” Mrs. Greene said. “You heard those Nancy girls chanting out there. There’s something in the wood’s been taking our babies.”
CHAPTER 14
“We really should get going,” Kitty said, putting her iced tea back on the coffee table.
“Just a minute,” Patricia said. “What’s happening to the children?”
Kitty twisted around on the sofa and cracked the curtains, letting a slash of harsh sunlight into the living room.
“That boy is still hanging around your car,” she informed Patricia, letting go of the curtains.
“It’s nothing you ought to trouble yourself about,” Mrs. Greene said. “I would just feel a whole lot safer with my babies away.”
For two months, ever since she’d been bitten, Patricia had felt useless and scared. The Old Village she’d lived in for six years had always been someplace safe, where children left their bicycles in their front yards, and only a few people ever locked their front doors, and no one ever locked their back doors. It didn’t feel safe now. She needed an explanation, something she could solve that would make everything go back to the way it was.
The check had been poorly judged and not nearly enough. She’d come out here to help and gotten into trouble with those boys and Mrs. Greene had had to help her out instead. But if there was some trouble with her children, she could maybe do something about that. Here was something tangible. Patricia felt victory at hand.
“Mrs. Greene,” Patricia said. “Tell me what’s wrong with Jesse and Aaron. I want to help.”
“Nothing’s wrong with them,” Mrs. Greene said, pulling herself to the edge of her recliner, as close as she could get to Patricia so she could talk low. “But I don’t want to have happen to them what happened to the Reed boy, or the others.”
“What happened to them?” Patricia asked.
“Since May,” Mrs. Greene said, “we’ve had two little boys turn up dead and Francine has gone missing.”
The room stayed silent as the Christmas tree lights cycled through their colors.
“I haven’t read anything about it in the newspaper,” Kitty said.
“I’m a liar?” Mrs. Greene asked, and Patricia saw her eyes get hard.
“No one says you’re lying,” Patricia reassured her.
“She just did,” Mrs. Greene said. “Came right out and said it.”
“I read the paper every day,” Kitty shrugged. “I just haven’t heard anything about children going missing or getting killed.”
“Then I guess I made up a story,” Mrs. Greene said. “I guess those little girls you heard singing out there made up their rhymes, too. They call him the Boo Daddy because that’s what