Dad shot Mr. Bainbridge an annoyed look, then said, “North Korea and South
Korea are divided along the line of latitude thirty-eight degrees north of the equator. It’s cal ed the thirty- eighth paral el. When the commies in North
Korea tried to take over the south, we were sent in to kick their butts back above the thirty-eighth.”
Mr. Bainbridge wiped his mouth. “Which we did pretty easily, and that should
have been that. But some REMF ordered us above the thirty-eighth, and that’s when it got ugly. I remember—”
“Hold on there, Kurt,” Dad said, raising a hand. Then he turned to Jack. “What
you’ve just heard is a history lesson. Let’s leave it at that.”
Before Jack could protest, or ask what a REMF was, Mr. Bainbridge said, “Hey,
you hear what happened at Al Sumter’s wake?”
With no prospect of war stories, Jack had been about to retreat to his room. But
now he was al ears.
“I thought that was tonight,” Dad said.
“They had a viewing this afternoon. That freeholder, what’s his name?” He
snapped his fingers. “God, you see his name everywhere—”
Jack’s mouth felt as dry as pine needles. Final y he managed to say, “Mister
Haskins?”
He pointed to Jack. “You nailed it!” He smiled at Dad. “Good citizen you’ve got
there. Knows his civics.”
Jack decided to let him go on thinking that. No way could he tel him about
eavesdropping on Haskins and Steve’s father.
“But tel me,” Mr. Bainbridge went on, grinning. “Do you have any idea what the
hel a freeholder does?”
Jack shook his head. “Not real y.”
Mr. Bainbridge laughed. “Neither does anybody else!”
Jack wasn’t interested in what freeholders did. Who cared? He was interested in
the fate of just one of them. He had a premonition he needed
confirmed.
“What happened to him?”
“Keeled over dead, just like Sumter. Couldn’t bring him back. Seems like his
heart just stopped cold.”
Stopped cold … that was how Jack felt. Could it have been the klazen? Was there
real y such a thing?
“Wonder who’l be next?” Mr. Bainbridge said.
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.
“They say deaths come in threes. We’ve had Sumter, and now Haskins. Who’s
going to be the third?”
Jack must have looked as upset as he felt because his dad reached out and gave
his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“That’s just an old wives’ tale, Jack. And don’t worry, if there’s a third, it won’t be
anyone from this house.”
Jack hadn’t been worrying about that—the idea of anyone in his family dying
was, wel , unthinkable. He’d been worrying about Mr. Brussard. He didn’t want Steve to lose his father. But he couldn’t say that to Dad. How could he
explain something he didn’t understand himself?
He turned to Mr. Bainbridge. “Can I ask you something?”
Both Dad and Mr. Bainbridge looked at him expectantly.
“Go ahead,” Mr. Bainbridge said.
“Have you ever heard of a klazen?”
Both frowned. Dad shook his head. “You asked me about that this morning.” He
