I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Blew it out through my mouth. I realized what he meant. Carl’s mother was alive and well and living in a white house with marigolds. He was just talking about thoughts. Leaving home. Putting her out of his mind so he could get on with his own life. Live the way he wanted to live. Not actually murdering somebody. Exactly what I was trying to do with Gloria.

I just didn’t trust myself.

That last part nagged at me, but I said, “I’m sorry if I upset you, Carl.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you, Carl,” he said back. He ran his hand over Girl’s head.

I smiled. Carl was a good person. He was smelly and grumbly and eccentric, but he was perfectly fine on the inside.

—

The ground beneath the blanket was bumpy from small stones, but I was warm and dry and my stomach was full of spaghetti and meatballs and bread. Dot told Carl I had to eat an apple, too. He dug one out of his backpack, shined it up, sliced it in half, and gave it to me. It was soft, tasted like a bruise, but I still ate it.

Lying there quietly, I watched the fire dancing, smoke occasionally drifting into my eyes. Carl shaved slices of wood off a stick with a hooked blade. He was jumbling up words. “That’s when the tank got stuck. No one knew. No one knew!” He laughed out loud, and I laughed too.

I closed my eyes. If Carl and I stayed like this I could help out, keeping our camp clean. I could learn to fish further down the creek where it was wider and deeper. I knew a good berry patch, and I knew dandelion leaves were sweet if I got them before the flowers opened. Summer was great under the bridge. But where would we go once the snow came? What about winter boots? And a jacket? I only had shorts and a grimy T-shirt. And what about school? Gloria would probably tell them I’d gone to stay with Uncle Rick, or some imaginary relative. They wouldn’t miss me. Well, maybe Mrs. Spooner might, but she’d forget soon enough.

I had just started floating away when I heard a loud crack. My eyes jumped open. Carl heard it too. I saw his head jump back, tilt like a crow’s. I sat up. Girl sprang forward, darted toward Carl, put her paw down on top of his shoe. Ears pointed, a low snarl rolled out through her bared teeth.

Then more noises. Strange shrill barking. Coming from deep within a stray dog’s throat. A wet strangled sound. Girl continued to snarl but didn’t bark back. And as it got closer, I realized the noises weren’t coming from a lost dog at all. They were coming from a man.

MAISY