Annie saw that a few buttons had been undone on Mrs. Barnacle’s blouse, the collar pulled down to expose her old breast. She stared at Alvin with horror.

He began to cry. “I wasn’t doing nothing. I just wanted to have a look.” Quickly, he covered the breast, buttoning up her blouse.

Annie ran into the bedroom, which stank. The puppy lay on the floor panting. She picked it up and took it out with her. Alvin was now standing by the kitchen table. She ignored him, sprinting to the door, but he called desperately, “Annie. Annie, please don’t tell anyone. Please don’t tell. Please.”

But she was out of the house, now, and running.

When Alvin got home, he felt sure that everyone would know by now what had happened. Annie’s What are you doing? was like something his nerves were swarming, trying to devour, like the moths he threw into his fire-ant farm.

He could hear his parents in the kitchen and entered. His dad was pacing in front of the stove.

“Why?” his dad was saying to his mom. “Why is this a strange request?”

“I’ll clean things thoroughly,” she said. She was sitting at the table.

“But you touch your face without thinking. Look. Your hand just went up to your mouth right then. All I’m asking—”

She saw Alvin. “Where have you been? We had a dentist appointment at four.”

His dad glanced over but seemed too irritated with his mom to fully register him and went on. “I don’t understand why you’re being so pig-headed. I’m not going to risk facing my congregation with one of those on my lips. It’s filthy.”

Alvin realized he was talking about his mom’s cold sore, which had appeared a few days ago. She had never had one before.

“Can we stop this please?” she said.

“We can stop when you understand that what I’m saying is completely reasonable. You can use a bucket of disinfected water for your cup and your plate and anything else you touch.” He walked out and returned a moment later with a pink towel. “This is your towel. You’ll wash the rest of those towels in boiling water. When they’re ready to come out of the water, call me. Do not touch them. Do you understand?”

She turned away, staring through the door into the living room. She could do this, his mom, suddenly look as if she were in an unseemly place, a busy bus station being accosted by beggars, and would armor herself in severe dignity.

Alvin’s dad, understanding that he wasn’t going to get any further with her, turned to Alvin. “Where have you been?”

Alvin wanted to say that Mrs. Barnacle was dead, which would explain why he had not returned in time, but any mention of her seemed somehow an admission of what he had done.

“Just jacking around with friends.”

“For the last time this month, buddy. You’re grounded. Do you understand me?”

Alvin nodded.

“Are you okay, Alvin?” His mom was clearly surprised he hadn’t protested. Alvin glanced at that cold sore, and she reflexively lifted her hand to cover it.