Mrs. Kay points to one of the cardboard boxes. It’s marked for henry.

“That’s for you,” she tells me. “Have a look. They were donated to the library years ago, and we already have a set.”

In the box there are World Book encyclopedias in alphabetical order. They have black leather covers with gold letters on the bindings. The C and L volumes are missing, but all the others are there. I take out the R encyclopedia. It’s stamped discard on the inside.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kay. All I have from my old set is M,” I say.

All around the room neighbors talk to each other.

“It’s a terrible thing, hurting an innocent boy.”

“As if that boy hasn’t been through enough. Almost drowned with his mother, if she hadn’t been so clearheaded.”

“We have a window that might fit that space.”

“It’s not right, the things some ignorant people are saying.” Ms. Ouellette puts her hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Especially with you losing your house and poor James being hurt right in front of you.”

Mom reaches up and squeezes the teacher’s hand. “We appreciate everything everyone’s done. We’re lucky in our friends and our community.”

Mrs. Stockford, wearing an apron and holding a pie server, speaks to the crowd. “I want to say this. Marie’s husband, Tolman”—Mrs. Stockford nods to Nana, whose name is Marie—“drilled our well for just the cost of materials back when George got sick. He was there to plow the driveway when we came home from the hospital. And he raised three good boys who help their neighbors just like he did. Alice, don’t think I forgot who brought all those garden tomatoes and green beans to us when we couldn’t keep a garden.”

Mom waves a hand in front of herself. “That’s what neighbors do,” she says.

“That’s right. So you let us help you now,” Mr. Stockford says. “You need help building a house, Alice, we’ll be there with our tools. And you tell Wendell, he needs anything when James comes home, he doesn’t have to ask.”

At the mention of James, some people look at me.

“What are you hearing about the boy?”

“He still hasn’t woken up,” Mom says. “I’m going to visit him in a bit. Wendell asked that Henry and I stop in today. He hasn’t hardly left the hospital since James got hurt.”

“That poor child, losing his mama so young, and now this,” Mrs. Stockford says, and some people shake their heads.

Fiona gives me a big envelope. When she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, I notice a Big Dipper constellation on her left cheek.

“Our class made cards for James, for him to see when he wakes up. Can you bring them when you visit?”

“Sure.” I take the envelope.