“Bad. Bad. Bad things. When I looked at your cards. I wouldn’t say. The cards told me bad things were going to happen to you. To stay away. I’m the bad things, Magic Boy. Urh. I’m the bad things.”

“You’re not bad.” Words like scratches.

A shadow pacing by Carl. Girl. Each time she passed him she nudged her head against his knee.

“Henry’s mumbling and mumbling. But I can barely hear him over Dot,” he said. “Just wailing. She’s really upset with Stan.” His hands were jumping around. “And with me.”

“Tell Dot I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt. Was an accident.”

“It doesn’t hurt. Was an accident. Urh.”

I closed my eyes again. Lay down on the dock, shivering. Water lapped somewhere. I listened and listened. The sharp banging in my head faded, still there but a distance away. I think I fell asleep. I don’t know how much time passed. When I woke up my stomach retched. But nothing came out.

Carl was beside me. His hulking figure blocked the moonlight. I sat up. Leaned on my arms. I winced. Waited for the blast in my head, but the pain was hollow. The blanket fell away from my bare back and my skin prickled with goose bumps. I picked up a long-sleeved shirt from the pile, eased it over the gash in my head. Poked my shaking arms out through the soft cotton. Put a dark sweater on over that. Then I changed into a pair of dry shorts. Everything was about my size. Maybe the cottage owners had a son.

“I couldn’t find anything for your feet,” Carl said. He was holding something in his hands, rubbing the edges with his thumb. “So I made these. Better than what you had before.” Near my bent knee, he placed what looked like two silvery shoes. Holes punctured near the opening laced with two long thin strips. All made from gray tape. “Urh. Measured when you were resting.”

“You didn’t have to, Carl,” I said. His injured fingers must have stung badly. I eased them on my bare feet and knotted the strips. “They fit.”

“Now they won’t hurt. When you go home.”

When you go home. I was going home. I swallowed. My whole body was full of sadness, but also full of relief. “I really like them.” I was telling the truth.

“And this,” he said. He handed me a small flashlight. “Found it in there.” Head tic toward the cottage. “Don’t know, urh, about the battery life.”

“Thank you.” I stood up on jelly legs. Stared down at my shoes, turned the flashlight over in my hand. My heart was jelly, too.