Someone shoulders into her—a dirtball kid with ash-blond hair that segues into a mullet that then segues into an even longer rat tail braided and hanging down to the middle of his back. He smiles with pebble teeth and blinks his tiny eyes at her. “Oh, shit, I’m so frickin’ sorry.”

He clutches a choke chain leash to his chest.

“It’s awright,” she says. He seems to be the least threatening person in here—he looks nervous, awkward, maybe even bewildered. Good place to start. “Hey, I’m lookin’ for someone.”

“Sure. Whozat?”

“Bird and Bodie Haycock.”

The kid’s eyes bug out, and his jaw drops like he’s seeing a pair of braless breasts for the first time in his life. “That’s me! Well, I’m one of those two, I’m not both of them. Man, how frickin’ crazy would that be? To be two people?” He offers his hand. “I’m Bird.”

“Bird.” She says his name, doesn’t take his hand, feels a hot gush of bile geyser up from her belly and into her throat. Images of Sailor the little white terrier flip through her mind. But at the same time she’s having a hella hard time reconciling the person who could do such a thing to a helpless dog with the gawky, marble-eyed, thimble-dicked hick in front of her. “You’re Bird.”

“Yup!” So proud of it, too.

“And your brother is Bodie.”

“Yup!”

“Where’s he at?”

“Oh, he’s out back. Trainin’ one of the dogs at the cat pole.”

Hit him now. Break his stupid dumb face.

But she doesn’t. “Can you . . . take me to him?”

“Sure, c’mon!”

Bird heads to the back of the barn, waving her on, rat tail bouncing between his shoulders. Atlanta’s hands ball into fists, her chewed-up fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm.

As they walk behind the barn, they pick up a small trail that leads into the woods. Rough pavers mark the way.

Bird won’t shut up. He’s a squawky one.

He’s all, So where you from? and You go to the high school? and Yeah me and my bro we’re totally frickin’ homeschooled, it’s awesome. He’s like a broken spigot—much as you want him to turn off, he won’t. I like the woods. It’s frickin’ peaceful and whatever. I got allergies though and they frickin’ suck and my uncle is what got us the job here and man it’s sweet and I like to work outdoors even though I got allergies oh I already said that and you seem really nice I like nice girls man some girls are frickin’ not frickin’ nice and y’know, you got, like, the coolest red hair and—