Shelter (51 page)

    Safekeeping. Sweet Goddess. What if he told the police about Nicholas's monsters? Well, she'd say he must be insane, that's all. He was providing perfectly adequate evidence on his own.

    Nicholas had turned around and was facing away from all of them, tiny arms folded across his chest. "I hate you. I hate all of you."

    "Nicholas?" Henry said. "Bluebell has to go home with you."

    "I can't keep her," Nicholas said, his face scrunched into a scowl. "I told you."

    "Well, kiddo, I can't keep her, either. Anybody here want a mouse?" The older cop was frowning; Meredith wondered what in hell he thought was going on. The younger cop laughed. "Well, my python would be real keen on it."

    Some safekeeping. Nicholas's shoulders stiffened, and Meredith stretched out her hand. "Here, I'll take her. I'll bring her to Temple. They can put her into the petting zoo. And then you can visit her there, Nicky, okay?"

    Nicholas didn't answer. "Mind you hold her tail so she doesn't get away," Henry said, more politely than he'd spoken to Meredith yet. "Hold her at the base of the tail, just like that. That's it. You got it." I know how to hold a mouse, Meredith thought resentfully, and then, He really does want to keep the mouse safe. She could feel the tiny heart beating against her palm.

    "Thank you," she heard herself saying, and then, cradling Bluebell against her stomach, she took Nicholas's hand and said, "We have to go back in now, Nicky. Come on."

    "No," Nicholas said, trying to twist out of her grasp. "I want to go with him! I want to go with Henry!"

    Henry sighed. "Nicky, go with your mother. You can't help me now. Go home now."

    "Everything's all right," Meredith said.

    Nicholas, dry-eyed and merciless, looked up at her, in full view of Henry and the cops and whatever neighbors were watching, and said very clearly, "It's your fault. You got Henry in trouble. I hate you, Mommy."

    "Nicholas, we're going home now. Come on."

    "I hate you," he said. "I hate you, I hate you." He turned it into a song. He sang it all the way up the Filbert steps; he sang it to the neighbors' windows. He sang it all the way to his own room, where he ran inside and slammed the door and leaned against it, singing, "I hate you," while Meredith stood outside, holding Bluebell.

    "Nicholas, let me in."

    "No! I hate you!"

    "Sweetheart, if you don't come out, how will you be able to eat your dinner?"

    "No! I hate you! I hate you! I—"

    "Meredith?" Oh, sweet Gaia. Kevin was home. He must have just come in. "Meredith, what's going on?"

    "Nothing," she said bleakly. Here he was, next to her now, still carrying his briefcase and blueprint tube.

    He raised his eyebrows. "Nothing? Then why were you and Nicholas standing in front of two police cars at the bottom of the hill? Old Mrs. Peabody two doors down told me all about it."

    Meredith swallowed. "Well, it's a long story."

    "No doubt. You were just talking to the cops, and now Nicholas is having a tantrum. That should be quite a story." He looked at her, his eyebrows rising further, and said, "And while you're at it, why don't you tell me why you're holding a mouse?"

    * * *

    "What?" he said, half an hour later. All four of them were in the kitchen. Kevin had enticed Nicholas out of his room with the promise of an ice cream sundae, an offer Nicholas had accepted on the condition that his mother have no hand in preparing it. Meredith sat, arms crossed over her chest, on one side of the table; Nicholas, mute and glaring, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream, glowered at her from the other. Kevin paced back and forth in front of the sink. The only tranquil creature in the room was Bluebell, who nibbled happily on a piece of apple in her temporary quarters, a large glass bowl securely covered with an even larger colander.

    "Now, hold on," Kevin said. "Let me see if I've got this straight. You called the police because some homeless guy was showing Nicholas his pet mouse?"

    "She's my mouse," Nicholas said.

    "Kevin, I just found out this afternoon that this Hobbit guy was real, he's been talking to Nicholas for Goddess knows how long—because you let Nicky run off into the bushes—and telling Nicholas to keep it a secret—"

    "He never said that!" said Nicholas.

    "—so what would you have done? Aside from what you've already done, just letting Nicholas disappear from sight?"

    "He was collecting leaves," Kevin snapped. "I'd have talked to the guy himself before I called the cops. Nicholas, what was he doing with your mouse, anyway?"

    "He was taking care of her, Daddy!" And then, to Merry's relief, "He was lonely. He wanted a friend."

    "Okay," Kevin said. "Okay. So he's the person you gave the mouse to, right? The mouse I signed that note for? When you told me you had a friend who wanted the mouse more than you did?"

    "Right," Nicholas said.

    "Nicholas," said Kevin, "that was really nice of you. That was a really nice thing to do, to try to make someone less lonely."

    "Oh," Nicholas said, in a tiny voice.

    ''I'm very proud of you," Kevin said, glaring at Meredith.

    "Really?"

    "Really, Nicholas. I really am. And I'll bet Mommy thinks it was a nice thing to do too. Right?"

    "Right," Meredith said. "Nicholas, I'm sorry I scared you. I—it's just—"

    "She was trying to protect you, Nicholas," Kevin said. He couldn't possibly know how right he was. "Sometimes mommies and daddies get too scared for their children because they love them so much. Sometimes we don't do the right things. Sometimes we make mistakes, trying to protect our kids."

    "And sometimes we don't protect them enough," Meredith said. She was ready to scream. "Sometimes we let them run off into the bushes." She knew she shouldn't criticize Kevin in front of Nicholas; she didn't care. Keep him on the defensive. Get him thinking about his own behavior so he wouldn't look too closely at hers.

    Kevin ignored her. "But now we'll try to help your friend, Nicholas, okay?"

    "Okay."

    "Good. Go play in your room now, sweetheart. I have to talk to your mother."

    The minute Nicholas was up the stairs Kevin turned on her, fiercer than she'd ever seen him, and said, "Have you completely lost your mind?"

    "Look who's talking! Just sit on the park bench and let him do whatever he wants, why don't you?"

    "Gaia's gas, Merry! He was collecting leaves! And everybody's worried about the kid because he doesn't have friends, he doesn't have social skills, he doesn't seem to have any empathy or compassion, and then you punish him for being nice to some poor old bum?"

    "What do you mean, 'poor old bum'? You don't know anything about him! For all you know he's a kidnapper or an addict or a child molester or–or–Goddess knows what! You don't know! And you let Nicky–"

    "Well, you don't know anything about him, either, do you, except that Nicholas likes him?"

    Meredith swallowed. "Nicholas has been keeping this a secret for Goddess knows how long."

    Kevin pointed at the mixing bowl. "And the guy's been taking care of that mouse for the same amount of time. The mouse looks pretty damn tame and healthy to me."

    "Which means exactly what? Who knows what the guy wanted in return for taking care of the mouse?"

    "According to Nicholas, he didn't want anything in return! He wanted the mouse to keep him company! Merry, I just don't get it. You're the one whose religion makes such a big deal of compassion; you're the one who's been volunteering in shelters to help baggies; you're the one who's completely paranoid about personal publicity—"

    "Excuse me, but you're pretty paranoid about publicity too! And you were completely irresponsible—"

    "—and so you do something cruel in a way that drags in the cops and the neighbors and will therefore get as much publicity as possible!"

    She swallowed again. Her mouth tasted like sawdust. "The cops said they'd keep it quiet."

    "Oh, sure. You believe that? With the neighbors watching? Mrs. Peabody's probably already called ScoopNet. Matt's going to love this: 'Do-gooder Green blows whistle on baggie.' Just wonderful."

    "You're terribly concerned with Green ethics all of a sudden."

    He slammed his hand down on the table. "Meredith! I'm concerned because you aren't concerned! Don't you get it? For all I care they can scrub the guy down with Clorox and wash him out of town with a fire hose while they're at it! I don't care about him. I care about you!"

    "I'm fine. I'm just trying to protect Nicholas, which is more than you—"

    "Protect Nicholas from what? Do you have any evidence that he's been harmed?"

    "The secrecy—"

    "So what? Kids like secrets. He's not scared of this guy. Right now, he's scared of you! And so am I. You don't want the kid to keep his friendships' a secret, but then when he tells you about them, you have his friends hauled away to jail?"

    "You," said Meredith, shaking in fear and fury, "are the one at fault here. None of this would have happened if you'd supervised Nicholas properly!"

    "Yeah, I let him get twenty feet away in a place without cars."

    "You couldn't see him, Kevin!"

    "We can't see him now, either. You'd better run into his room and check: maybe criminals are climbing through the windows. Merry, he needs a little bit of freedom."

    "He's five!"

    Kevin sighed. "All right. I'm sorry, all right? I'll never do it again. Now I'm going to call the police station and see what's happening with the baggie, okay? You want to conference in?"

    She shook her head mutely, and somehow found her voice. "No. You call. Let me go talk to Nicholas."

    "Okay. I'll come in when I know something."

    She went slowly down the hallway, afraid that Nicholas wouldn't let her into his room, equally afraid that he would and would tell her again how much he hated her. Was whatever was wrong with him her fault? Was anything wrong with him at all, or was it all her? Maybe she'd been exaggerating his symptoms. Maybe she'd been making it all up. Maybe her brain damage was the problem and she was the one who needed to be brainwiped. But then she remembered Patty, bloody and flayed.

    Nicholas's door was open a crack. She knocked gently. "Nicholas? Honey, it's Mommy. Can I come in?"

    "All right." She could barely hear his whisper of assent. She stepped gingerly into the room and found Nicholas curled up on his bed, sucking his thumb.

    "Nicky? Daddy's calling the police to see how Henry is, okay? Are you still mad at me?" He shrugged, an awkward wiggle of his body against the coverlet, and sucked more loudly on his thumb. "Sweetie, I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're scared and worried." She brushed his hair back from his forehead, and he stiffened, but didn't draw away. Meredith knelt on the carpet, relieved at his lack of outburst, and said, "I hope your friend will be okay."

    Suck, suck. He glared at her. Meredith swallowed. Kevin would be here soon. And she had to find out. "Nicholas—can Bluebell stay here? To be your mouse?" He shrank back farther into the coverlet, his eyes narrowing to slits. "No? Does that mean no, honey?" Suck, suck. She fought a surge of panic that he was going autistic on her. "Do you want me to take Bluebell to Temple? She'll be safe there, and you can visit her." The barest nod. Encouraged, she went on. "Okay. I'll take her there, only I have to do it tomorrow. It's too late tonight. Okay? Will she be safe here tonight?"

    Shrug. Suck, suck. And there were feet in the hallway: Kevin coming back with news. Nicholas removed his thumb from his mouth and sat up. "Well?" he said when Kevin entered the room.

    "Well," Kevin said, and hunkered down to be at eye level with Nicholas. "Your friend's okay, Nick."

    "Promise?"

    "Promise. "

    "Is he coming back here?"

    "Well, no. Probably not. You know, it's against the law to live where he was living. But the police will find somewhere else for him to live."

    Nicholas's eyes narrowed again. "Jail?"

    "No, sweetheart. Somewhere nice."

    "Then he's not coming back," Nicholas said, and put his thumb back into his mouth.

    Kevin looked at Meredith, who cleared her throat and said, "Well, Nicholas and I have been having a little talk. He's sad about his friend, but he wants Bluebell to go live at the Temple so people there can enjoy her too. Right, Nick?" The barest of nods. "I know you're sad," Meredith said. "Would it make you feel better to sleep with us tonight, the way you used to when you were little?" And that way maybe Bluebell will be safe even though she'll still be in the house, since I can't very well explain to Kevin why the mouse should spend the night in our room.

    Nicholas nodded, and took his thumb out of his mouth again, and neatly dried it on his shirt. "Yes, Mommy. Can I have my bath now, please?"

    * * *

    "So I lied," Kevin said, once Nicholas was ensconced in the tub. "What would you have had me tell him? Your friend's a repeat offender and a menace to society, so the cops are going to make him into a zombie? Look, it's over. We can't do anything else for him now. Not even CALM could do anything. They've been trying to help him, Meredith. They tried six times. It didn't work."

    "All right," she said. But it wasn't over, and she knew it. Because she hadn't been able to help Nicholas, he'd keep trying to find other people who could. And she couldn't let him. He had no way of understanding that the help he wanted would destroy him. To whom would he reach out next, and how could she stop it?

    "Anyway," Kevin said, "if they wipe the guy he won't be bothering Nicholas anymore, right? Aren't you happy about that?"

    Meredith closed her eyes. "Now you're being cruel. And the whole thing's your fault."

    "Yes," he said, "I guess I am being cruel. I've already apologized for not following Nicholas every second; I'm not going to say it again. But, look, maybe with this guy off the streets, he'll start making friends in school."