Haley nodded. She squeezed Linette’s fingers and then drew forward.
They had only looked away for an instant. But it had been long enough for lights to go on inside and out, so that now the girls blinked in the glare of spotlights. Someone had thrown open a set of French doors opening onto a sort of patio decorated with tubs of geraniums and very old wicker porch furniture, the wicker sprung in threatening and dangerous patterns. Against the brilliance the hollyhocks loomed black and crimson. A trailing length of white curtain blew from the French doors onto the patio. Haley giggled nervously, and heard Linette breathing hard behind her.
Someone stepped outside, a small figure not much taller than Haley. He held something in his arms, and cocked his head in a way that was, if not exactly welcoming, at least neutral enough to indicate that they should come closer.
Haley swallowed and looked away. She wondered if it would be too stupid just to run back to the cottage. But behind her Linette had frozen. On her face was the same look she had when caught passing notes in class, a look that meant it would be up to Haley, as usual, to get them out of this.
“Hum,” Haley said, clearing her throat. The man didn’t move. She shrugged, trying to think of something to say.
“Come on up,” a voice rang out; a rather high voice with the twangy undercurrent of a Texas accent. It was such a cheerful voice, as though they were expected guests, that for a moment she didn’t associate it with the stranger on the patio. “It’s okay, you’re looking for your pet, right?”
Behind her Linette gasped again, in relief. Then Haley was left behind as her friend raced up the hill, holding up her skirts and glancing back, laughing.
“Come on! He’s got Valentine—”
Haley followed her, walking deliberately slowly. Of a sudden she felt odd. The too-bright lights on a patio smelling of earth and mandarin oranges; the white curtain blowing in and out; the welcoming stranger holding Valentine. It all made her dizzy, fairly breathless with anticipation; but frightened, too. For a long moment she stood there, trying to catch her breath. Then she hurried after her friend.
When she got to the top Linette was holding the kinkajou, crooning over it the way Haley usually did. Linette herself hadn’t given it this much attention since its arrival last spring. Haley stopped, panting, next to a wicker chair, and bent to scratch her ankle. When she looked up again the stranger was staring at her.
“Hello,” he said. Haley smiled shyly and shrugged, then glanced at Linette.
“Hey! You got him back! I told you he was here—”
Linette smiled, settled onto a wicker loveseat with Valentine curled among the folds of her skirt. “Thanks,” she said softly, glancing up at the man. “He found him two days ago, he said. This is Haley—”
The man said hello again, still smiling. He was short, and wore a black T-shirt and loose white trousers, like hospital pants only cut from some fancy cloth. He had long black hair, thinning back from his forehead but still thick enough to pull into a ponytail. He reminded her of someone; she couldn’t think who. His hands were crossed on his chest and he nodded at Haley, as though he knew what she was thinking.
“You’re sisters,” he said; then when Linette giggled shook his head, laughing. “No, of course, that’s dumb: you’re just friends, right? Best friends, I see you all the time together.”
Haley couldn’t think of anything to say, so she stepped closer to Linette and stroked the kinkajou’s head. She wondered what happened now: if they stayed here on the porch with the stranger, or took Valentine and went home, or—
But what happened next was that a very old lady appeared in the French doors that led inside. She moved quickly, as though if she slowed down even for an instant she would be overtaken by one of the things that overtake old people, arthritis maybe, or sleep; and she swatted impatiently at the white curtains blowing in and out.
“Elijah,” she said accusingly. She wore a green polyester blouse and pants patterned with enormous orange poppies, and fashionable eyeglasses with very large green frames. Her white hair was carefully styled. As she stood in the doorway her gaze flicked from Linette and the kinkajou to the stranger, then back to Linette. And Haley saw something cross