tall, like his brother, and had the smattering of freckles across his nose that seemed to be a trait in his family. He had strawberry blond hair that was cut short and beautiful blue eyes which supported what his brother told me about him: he had a real way with the ladies—wink, wink, nudge, nudge. His good looks would only improve over time, I was sure, and Jane would be beating girls off with a stick shortly. Besides the good looks, he also had a certain je ne sais quoi that I’m sure drove the teenage girls wild.
Trixie came into the kitchen, her nails tapping on the ceramic tile. I noticed that her leash wasn’t on its usual hook by the back door and it occurred to me that I had left it in the car. “Come with me,” I said to the boy. “I left her leash in the car.”
Accordion Boy followed me out of the house, trailing Trixie behind him; we made our way across the backyard, chatting about the upcoming holidays and his midterm exams. I offered to help him study for his English test; I figured I had to do something for this kid and his brother. They walked my dog for free and would probably do just about anything else I asked.
Trixie, who is generally a very placid and rule-following animal, surprised me by darting off and plunging through the hedgerow into her former backyard, home of the absent Terri and Jackson. “Trixie!” I called after her. “Come back!”
She ran straight to the sliding doors that led to the kitchen and paced back and forth in front of them, barking. When it was clear that she wasn’t coming back, I shimmied through the hedges and walked over to her, grabbing her by the collar. She didn’t budge. “Fine. Stay there.” I started to walk away, hoping she would follow me. “You’re going to get hungry, eventually, and then you’ll really want to come home.”
It dawned on me that all she heard was “blah, blah, blah” but I was confident that she would come home eventually. She probably needed to have a moment at her former abode.
“So, when’s your English test?” I asked the kid, who was poised next to my car, on the other side of the hedge.
The kid stared back at me, his mouth hanging open.
“Your test? When is it?” I asked, making my way across the Morrisons’ backyard. First the dog, and now this. I apparently had lost any sense of authority that I once had if I couldn’t get a dog and a fifteen-year-old to respond to me. I had almost reached the hedge when I noticed that the boy was frozen, staring at something behind me. I turned slowly and watched as Jackson came walking across the backyard, a huge knife poised above his left shoulder and aimed directly at me. I recognized it as the kind of knife you would get in the Wüsthof six-pack of carving knives, the one designated for deboning game birds. I had spent enough time watching my father debone waterfowl to know the damage that knife could do. It wasn’t roadkill, but it was close enough.
“Go get Mr. Bergerson!” I yelled to the boy, watching as Jackson picked up speed. I watched the boy run off at the same time that Jackson let out an animalistic roar, and I put both hands up in front of me in an attempt to shield both my face and torso from the weapon.
The knife tore into my left hand and I gasped in agony and surprise. But with any sense I had left, I managed to push Jackson back onto the grass. I caught sight of Trixie out of the corner of my eye pacing nervously back and forth at the edge of Jackson’s backyard. She was confused; who to save? Her former master or her new one? I started to run toward her, but Jackson had regained his footing and was upright again, running after me. He caught the back of my sweatshirt shirt and pulled me back. I began to fall backward, my arms pinwheeling in the air.
“Trixie!” I yelled, my throat constricted by my collar. The dog continued to pace, uttering a low-pitched moan. The backyard wasn’t large but getting across it and away from Jackson proved too much for me. I fell with a thud onto my back, my head hitting the hard earth. The blue sky above swam before my eyes and I