“It’s important for you to trust me, David. You’ve got to let me know what’s going on so I can help.”

He thought about it long and hard, and finally he shrugged. “Well, I’ll tell ya on one condition. You got to promise you won’t never tell the secret to nobody in the whole world. Nobody. Never. Never. Never.”

“Yes,” she said. “I promise.”

“In your whole life?”

She nodded.

“Say you promise.”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll tell ya. I don’t know everything. Only Arthur does. Like you said, I’m scared, because a lot of times I don’t know what’s going on.”

“How old are you, David?”

“Eight, going on nine.”

“And why are you the one who came to talk to me?”

“I didn’t even know I was coming on the spot. Somebody got hurt in the jail and I came to take the pain. ”

“Would you explain that?”

“Arthur says I’m the keeper of the pain. When there’s hurt, I’m the one who takes the spot and feels it.”

“That must be awful.”

Tears brimmed in his eyes as he nodded. “It’s not fair.” “What’s ‘the spot,’ David?”

“That’s what Arthur calls it. He explained to us how it works when one of the people has to come out. It’s a big white spotlight. Everybody stands around it, watching or sleeping in their beds. And whoever steps on the spot is out in the world. Arthur says, ‘Whoever is on the spot holds the consciousness.’”

“Who are the other people?”

“There are a lot. I don’t know them all. I know some of them now, but not everyone. Oh, wow.” He gasped.

“What’s the matter?”

“I told you Arthur’s name. Now for sure I’ll get in trouble for telling the secret.”

“It’s all right, David. I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

He cringed in his chair. “I can’t talk no more. I’m scared.” “All right, David. That’s enough for today, but I’ll come back tomorrow and talk to you some more.”

Outside the Franklin County Jail, she stopped and pulled her coat tightly around her against the cold wind. She had come prepared to face down a young felon who might be feigning insanity to avoid prosecution, but she had never expected anything like this.

(2)

The next day Dorothy Turner noticed something different in Milligan’s expression as he entered the interview room. He avoided her eyes and sat in the chair with his knees drawn up, playing with his shoes. She asked how he was feeling.

He didn’t respond at first, looking around, glancing at her from time to time with no sign of recognition. Then he shook his head, and when he spoke it was as a boy with a cockney accent. “Everythin’ is loud,” he said. “You. All the sounds. Oye don’t know what’s goin’ on.”

“Your voice seems funny, David. Is that an accent?”

He peered up at her impishly. “Oy’m not David. Oy’m Christopher “Well, where’s David?”

“Davids been naughty.”

“What do you mean?”