But before you think I’m just going off on a rant about the awful things that white people brought, let me finish where I’m going with this. Heads. In battle, my dad told me, we Narragansetts sometimes took the heads of our enemies as trophies. And the Whisperer in the Dark was also supposed to do that. The story goes that when he killed his victims, after he drank their blood, he would take their heads with him.

That is why Mr. Patel’s remark shook me up so much. I know it bothered Roger, too, but only because it was just another gruesome detail. To me, though, it was like hearing a heavy footstep in the hall late at night just outside your door when you thought you were all alone in the house.

I don’t recall much more of the conversation during our short ride to the library. The next thing I knew, Roger was paying our fare and the two of us were standing on the curb outside Mr. Patel’s cab.

“Remember, Maddy,” he called back to us over his shoulder as he leaned out the passenger side window, “if you need help, just call for Patel.” He grinned broadly. “We Indians must stick close together.”

Then, like a woodchuck ducking into its hole, he dropped back onto his seat. With a ceremonious gesture, he flicked on his left turn signal and pulled out into traffic.

“You sure were right, Maddy,” Roger said, watching the taillight on the cab flash. “He does use those signals.”

I didn’t say anything. I was still too upset at what Mr. Patel had told us.

“We have to check on Aunt Lyssa,” I said, running up the stairs.

But even though I was running, I was still trying to think. I had to be logical, even if everything that was happening seemed to defy normal logic. Our traditional stories were meant not just as entertainment. They taught survival lessons. One of the major lessons is to keep calm when there is danger. That way you won’t run headlong into the jaws of whatever is threatening you, like a panicked jackrabbit running in a big circle right back to the place it started from. When you are calm, you can think. My mom once told me that is how my dad was when he served in the military over in the Middle East. He was a Marine. When his convoy got ambushed, my dad was the one who stayed cool, figured out where the ambush was coming from, and led the assault team that took out the enemies. That earned him a Silver Star.

Stay calm. Think logically. I could do that.