The Cub Scout den that Rita had found for Cody met at Golden Lakes Elementary School, a few miles from our house. We got there a little early and sat in the car for a minute, and Cody watched without expression as a handful of boys his approximate age ran into the school wearing their blue uniforms.

I let him sit and watch, thinking that a little preparation time might do us both some good.

A few cars pulled up. More boys in blue uniforms ran into the building, apparently eager to get inside. Anyone equipped with a heart would certainly have found it warming at the sight —one parent was so enamored of the scene that he stood beside his van and video-taped the stream of boys running past and inside. But Cody and I simply sat and watched.

“They're all the same” Cody said softly.

“Just on the outside” I said. “It's something you can learn to do.” He looked at me blankly.

“It's just like putting on one of those uniforms” I said. “When you look the same, people think you are. You can do this.”

“Why?” he said.

“Cody” I said, “we have talked about how important it is to look normal.” He nodded. “This will help you figure out how to act like other kids. It's part of your training.”

“Other part?” he said, with the first eagerness he had shown, and I knew he was longing for the simple clarity of the knife.

“If you do this part well, we will do the other part” I said.

“An animal?”

I looked at him, saw the cold gleam in his small blue eyes, and knew there was no going back from where he already was; the only thing I could hope for was the long and difficult shaping that had been done to me. “All right” I said. “We'll do an animal.”

He watched me for another long moment, and then he nodded back, and we climbed out of the car and followed the pack into the cafeteria.

Inside, the other boys —and one girl —ran around making lots of loud noise for the first few minutes. Cody and I sat quietly in our tiny, molded plastic chairs, at a table just barely tall enough to smack you in the kneecaps if you tried to walk around it. He watched the others at their noisy play without expression and without any attempt to join in, and that was a starting point, something I could do with him. He was far too young to be known as a brooding loner we needed to get his disguise in gear.

“Cody” I said, and he looked at me with the same lack of expression.

“Look at the other kids.” He blinked, and then swivelled his head to take in the rest of the room. He watched without comment for a minute, and then turned back to me. “Okay” he said softly.