Uncanny was a really good word, capturing what I’d noticed about Chris when I’d first seen him in Yamada’s group therapy session. Uncanny in every way.

“I wish I could solve this riddle for me,” I said. “But when it comes to the volunteer work, he’s helping. He’s doing good. That’s something, isn’t it?”

She gave me a curious look. “Yeah. Can I pass that along to the staff?”

“Yeah.”

The front door of the building slammed. Chris stood just beyond the doors, looking for me, finally spotting me.

Oh, he looked pissed.

“I don’t know if it helps with the riddle,” she said. “But out of all the desperate, and all of the scared, I’ve never had a kid who was so desperate for something, where I couldn’t figure out what they really wanted.”

“I might have ideas,” I said.

“It’s not the obvious answer. It’s not his health. That’s the weirder thing.”

I shifted my stance, leaning against the fence, in my best attempt to get a good look at her face.

Chris was stalking toward us, his bag in his hand. Other kids stared.

“I’ve never had a child to look after who had so many reasons to be scared, who wasn’t.”

“You don’t think he’s scared?” I murmured.

“I used to. It was camouflaged desperation I saw.”

The talk of feelings and emotions and the tie-in to Chris as a cape made me wonder what that form would look like. Camouflaged desperation.

Nothing camouflaged at the moment. Chris marched his way toward us. He had to dodge around two playing kids who got in his way. Other kids got out of his way, seemingly by dint of his reputation alone.

“He really is doing good?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “In his grouchy, surly way.”

Chris caught up to us. He huffed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

“My battery died. Email is a thing.”

“Internet dropped for this area,” I said.

“You came without being invited. Not fucking okay!”

“Language,” Val said. “Keep it clean with the littles around.”

“I hate that word. Littles.”

“I won’t use it if you stop being bad.”

“You say that like I’m a dog and I crapped in the house. ‘Bad’. I’m trying to explain why this isn’t cool. It’s about respect and boundaries.”

“I’m trying to respect your boundaries,” I said.

“You came here. From another area entirely. Without telling me first.”

“No phone, no internet. There is, as far as I know, no telegraph or established way of transmitting smoke signals,” I said.

“You wanted an excuse to snoop,” he said. “Because you can talk about relationship pillars and trust and respect and caring and boning—”

“Chris,” Val said.