Ezra, on the edge of my bed, struggled to catch his breath. He faced away from the window, his shoulders hunched. The window gaped like a wide toothless mouth behind him.

“Would you feel better if I brought the detector and checked things up here?” I asked.

Ezra nodded.

I put the puppy on the floor, told him to stay, and hushed by Ezra in my thick socks.

Down in the kitchen I opened the door to the woodstove. Poking coals around, I chucked another chunk of wood into the fire.

Grabbing the detector, I returned silently up the steps.

I didn’t mean to spy on him, but I liked seeing Ezra in my room. As I watched from the darkened stairwell, he struggled to his feet. Ezra stopped beside the puppy who had stayed more or less where I’d told him to stay, busily sniffing my backpack.

Slowly Ezra knelt. The dog sniffed his pajamas. Their heads came closer. The puppy craned his fat neck up while Ezra brought his own face down. All at once their noses touched.

I held my breath, standing on the top step.

Then Ezra lifted the puppy into his arms and held him.

That’s when I stepped into the room. “Made friends, I see.”

“He’s hard to resist.”

Ezra put the dog down and leaned against his cane with one hand, watching me run the radiation detector around the room.

Suddenly the steady crackle of the detector changed frequency. Right in my bedroom the wand was picking up radiation.

Ezra’s eyes widened. I could see the breath coming fast and shallow in his chest. Quickly I looked back to the detector, unwilling to believe what I heard.

“What is it?” Ezra asked.

I ran the wand over my shelf again. Again the detector registered signs of radiation.

“Whatever it is, Ezra,” I said, trying to reassure him, “there’s only a trace.”

“A trace is too much,” Ezra whispered, backing toward the steps.

I forced my trembling hand to slowly scan the shelves with the wand, zeroing in on the radiation.

“It’s the watches,” I said at last. “Ezra. It’s just my watches. Probably the paint on the dials. They’re those glow-in-the-dark kind.”

There were tears in Ezra’s eyes.

“It’s just some old broken watches, Ezra.”

“Get them out of here,” Ezra whispered.

“Okay. Okay,” I said.

I picked up the watches, looked around for a place to hide them. “What do you want me to do with them?”

“Get them out of here. Please. Get them out.”

I ran downstairs with the watches and took them into the living room, sticking them under the cushions of the couch.

Heading back to my room, I grabbed the mask from the kitchen. I found Ezra paralyzed, pale. “Would you like this back?” I asked, holding out the mask to him.

I ran the wand over everything again, carefully.

“All clear,” I said.

Ezra scrubbed a hand over his eyes.

“It’s all clear, Ezra.”

“Where are they?”