when he was done he had positioned himself so that his back shielded both the toys and himself from Johnny’s view.
Johnny rocked back onto his heels. He stood up. He caught Ruth’s eye to make sure she understood to send the note and the bag along, and he stepped outside.
Ruthie chewed her lip. Once they lost Wrecker, she knew, it wouldn’t be long before Johnny moved on.
The windup clock in the kitchen ticked loudly, marking the minutes until Len arrived. Ruth had emptied the few items from her blue cloth suitcase and neatly packed it with Wrecker’s clothes and toys. She tucked the rawhide cord with the elk tooth into an elastic pocket on the side. The army figures would be the last to go. Ruth was hoping he would be content to play with them until Len came to get him. The door to the kitchen opened and Willow stepped in. “Oh!” she said. “You’re here!” Where, Ruthie wondered, did she think they would be? Willow’s face adopted a more serious look. “Wrecker?” she said. “Put your toys away. There’s something we need to talk about.”
“He knows,” Ruth said. Her voice was dry. “Johnny Appleseed told him.” She bit her tongue before adding, Somebody had to.
Willow caught the undertone in Ruth’s voice and looked up quickly. She opened her mouth to speak but the sound of Len’s truck rumbling up the drive made them all start. Willow turned to Ruth. “I’ll be outside,” she said, and dropped her gaze.
Ruth felt a pang of regret. It wasn’t fair to be hard on Willow. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Len’s and it wasn’t Melody’s and it wasn’t her own and it sure as hell wasn’t Johnny Appleseed’s. It was something that happened; it was life—and she hated it. She hated this about life, the leaving. Huffing and creaking, Ruth folded down onto the linoleum beside Wrecker.
He glanced at her. A flicker of recognition chased across his face but he retreated again behind a stony gaze.
It wasn’t anybody’s fault, Ruth thought, but wouldn’t he be the one to pay for it?
She’d done her own leaving, once. Walked into the ocean with Liz’s ashes in a small box in her hands and laid herself beside them on the waves. But the sea had coughed her back out, her tattered heart preserved in her chest like a cheese sandwich in the dented chassis of a lunch box—and now she felt her heart squeeze tight again.
“Wrecker,” she said gruffly, and waited for him to meet her gaze. “Pay attention, now. I want you to remember this.” She raised her eyebrows and flared her nostrils and watched as his chin lifted and he looked at her sideways. “This is the secret weapon.” She glanced about furtively and then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Never use this unless your life is in danger.”
Ruth paused a moment to take it in: the slopes and curves of his small face, curiosity flaring brighter than anger across it, as he tilted his gaze toward her. She let her eyes linger there. And then she cupped her hands to her mouth and trumpeted the most graceful, elongated, musical Bronx cheer in the history of mankind.
“The story of my life, boy,” she said soberly, and watched the smile spread across his face.
The door squeaked open. Len thrust his ruined face inside. “Son,” he said. “It’s time.”
Ruth gathered his soldiers in a plastic bread bag. She tucked them into the suitcase, grasped it by the handle, and headed outside. Len and Willow stood talking to the boy. Wrecker’s left leg was muddy up to the knee. They put him in the cab of the truck and he suffered their kisses and Len drove away.
Melody had parked the van several blocks away from the CPS office in Eureka. She had walked the neighborhood in successive loops, located a café, sat down for a plate of bacon and eggs, been unable to eat, paid her bill, left a tip, and continued to walk. There was a little park within view of the office and she stationed herself there to wait. A few young mothers watched their children play on the slides and swings of the playground. They provided camouflage, Melody hoped, for her stealth operation. She didn’t want anything to interfere with what she planned to do.
Melody had dressed as conservatively as possible for her mission. She wore a simple navy dress and a cardigan and flats. She had styled her hair to