The thing was that he had meant to. He had known that his words would hurt his twin and he had said them anyway. It was something that Terrance, who had never had an unkind thought in his life, would not have been able to fathom. Ted had regretted those words for the better part of his life.

“Do you ever get scared in the woods?” Terrance said.

“Not when I’m with you,” Ted said.

“Should we sing a song?”

“You can sing. Go ahead.”

“‘The Teddy Bear’s Picnic,’” he said. “Remember that? Mom used to sing that. Sometimes she would sing the Terrance Bears, but that’s just made up, right, Ted?”

“I guess it’s all made up,” Ted said.

“If you go out in the woods tonight,” Terrance sang. “Join in, Ted.”

“No, I’ll just listen.”

“Why? Sing, Ted.”

What the heck, Ted thought. So they sang as they walked, never minding if someone could hear them—if there was anyone, it was only Cox on a vandalizing spree. And if he was out there, let him hear them sing. Let him know what he was missing. Let him see what love looked like.

11

DECEMBER 5

Suzanne adjusted her legs to redistribute Adam’s weight. He sat on her lap at the kitchen table in his yellow-and-blue-striped pajamas and a red cap Grammy had knitted, his fingers like vines around Suzanne’s neck. She fought back tears of frustration. She was a failure. Adam was wilting away, and it was her fault.

She’d been fielding calls from the school regularly since the parent-teacher conference. Adam says he’s feeling poorly. Adam crumpled up his math test and threw it at another child. Adam refused to participate in recess. The final straw came a few days ago, when Adam unleashed a string of curse words so foul the teacher wouldn’t even repeat what he’d said. She told him he could come back when he could behave himself. He claimed he still couldn’t.

Maybe he was stressed out. Maybe the principal had been right. He wasn’t ready for first grade. Suzanne had been wrong to insist.

A good mother would have found a cure for Adam by now. A good mother wouldn’t want to leave him at school, headaches or no, and get back to her nascent squirt-gun business.

“You used to love school, Ad,” she said.

“The teacher gets mad at me.”

“Because you misbehave.”

“I suffer from debilitating headaches, Mommy.”

Debilitating? Where did he learn a word like that? Then again, where had he learned the curse words that had gotten him suspended?

Grant thought it might be Tourette’s. Blurting out swear words. Grant had had a case involving Tourette’s once. If it was Tourette’s, they could sue the county for discrimination, Grant said. Neither of them would ever have to work again. That was the way Grant looked at things.