“Hello in there,” the man says on the other side of the cabin door. “I’m with the census.”

Malorie doesn’t respond. Tom thinks of the rustling papers he heard. A barrow full?

“Do you know what the census is?”

Malorie doesn’t respond. Tom thinks he might have to do something. If the man tries to break the door down, he’s going to have to do something.

“I don’t mean to frighten you,” the man says. “I could come back another time. But it’s hard to say when that will be.”

Malorie doesn’t respond. Tom knows she won’t.

He wants to ask Olympia what a census is.

“I just wanna talk to you. However many there are in there. It could save lives.”

Malorie doesn’t respond.

“What does he want?” Tom whispers. Malorie grabs his wrist to quiet him.

“So, what I do,” the man says, “I go around gathering stories. I gather information. I know quite a bit about failed attempts at trying to look at the creatures. I know of successes people have had in terms of living better lives. Did you know there is a working train now?”

Malorie doesn’t respond. Suddenly, Tom wants to.

“Right here in Michigan…a train. And did you know there are more creatures now than before? Estimates say they have tripled since first arriving. Have you noticed more activity outside your home?”

Malorie doesn’t respond. But Tom really wants to. What this man is saying electrifies him. Why not exchange information? Why not learn? In the name of a better life, why not?

“There’s some evidence of one having been caught,” the man says. “Certainly people have tried all over.”

And now Tom knows why Malorie hasn’t spoken.

By her measures, this man is unsafe. Just the suggestion of capturing one must have turned her to stone. If she wasn’t stone already.

“I have lists,” the man says. “Patterns. A lot of information that can help you. And your stories, in turn, might help others. Please. Let’s talk?”

Malorie doesn’t respond.

But Tom does.

“Do you have that information written down?”

Malorie grips his wrist.

“Yes, I do.” Relief in the man’s voice. “I have literature on me. Right here.”

Malorie grips his wrist so tight he has to grab her hand to stop it.

“Could you leave it on the front porch?”

This is Olympia speaking. Tom could kiss her.

But the man is silent for some time. Then, “That doesn’t seem like an even trade. I’d be leaving everything I know, without getting anything in return.”

Finally, Malorie speaks.

“Add us to the list of people who turned you away.”

Tom hears a sigh through the wood.