“It hurts, Wills,” I groaned. “Keep talking to me. Tell me things so I don’t have to think about the pain.”
There was a silence before he said, “I don’t want to talk about what happened, all right? I don’t want to remember it.”
I didn’t either.
“We lost the basketball game,” I said. “I was horrible.”
There was silence again, and I thought Wills might not want to talk about basketball because he would know it was his fault we lost.
“You’re not horrible,” he said then, quietly, and I think he really meant it. “You just need to grow a bit. I’m lucky cuz I’m big.”
“Sometimes you’re unlucky being big, because people think you’re older than you are and expect you to behave older.”
“Dad’s like that,” said Wills. “He thinks I should act older.”
“And Mom sometimes babies you,” I said.
“I suppose Clingon is furious with me,” Wills sighed.
“I don’t think you’re his favorite.”
“I’d like to be a basketball player when I’m grown up.”
“I’d like to be a writer,” I said, and I immediately wished I hadn’t.
“So you can write about me, I suppose,” Wills threw down.
“Been there, done that, got the torn pages,” I threw back. “You’re not the only subject in the world.”
“I’m the only one worth writing about,” said Wills. I could hear the chuckle in his voice and was glad.
We both fell silent for a time. Thoughts of Penny kept breaking through, even though I was trying to keep them buried. I was beginning to feel dizzy with pain and fear and hunger. As if he could read my mind, Wills suddenly said, “I could chow down a pizza.”
“They don’t deliver here,” I groaned.
Wills chuckled again. “You’re quite funny sometimes,” he said.
“Thanks for the vote,” I muttered.
“Does it hurt much?” Wills sounded anxious again.
“It hurts like crazy,” I said, “but I’ll live, no thanks to you.”
And then, in a flash, it hit me. Penny didn’t work on Saturdays. Someone else did. If anyone had been hurt, it wasn’t Penny.
I felt so relieved, and then I felt guilty about feeling relieved, because it meant that the girl who worked on Saturdays was the girl who had been threatened.
I had to be sure. “Wills?” I called.
“Yes, bro,” said Wills.
“What did she look like, the girl in the library?”
“Don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped.
“Did she have dark hair?” I persisted.
“No. I don’t know. I don’t think so. Leave it alone, will you?”
We went quiet again. I could hear Wills shifting around. I didn’t know which would be worse: his thoughts, with the knowing what had happened; or my thoughts, with not knowing what had happened, and trying not to fear the worst. It was pitch-black now, and I was beginning to shiver. I closed my eyes, but I was scared I wouldn’t wake up again, and I wanted to see Mom. I wanted to see Mom more than anything else in the world. She would make everything all right again. That’s what moms do, isn’t it?
“Chris?” Wills called. “When are they going to find us?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. I didn’t want to think about it. Someone would come eventually, but the thought of being there all night terrified me.
“Mom and Dad will be worried. I expect they’ll call the police.”
“No!” cried Wills. “I don’t want the police! They’ll send me to jail! Don’t let the police take me, Chris. Tell them it wasn’t me.”
He was becoming so agitated that the floor was beginning to creak.
“Keep still, Wills. Stay in the corner!” I yelled.
“Promise you won’t let them take me away,” he wailed.
“I won’t let them take you away, Wills,” I promised. “You’re my brother.”
“Together we stand?” he shouted.
“Divided we fall.” I grimaced.
I had fallen, badly, and we were divided not just by a rotten floor, but by what Wills had been through that day, which I couldn’t even begin to understand, and which threatened all of us. Just like Dad leaving had threatened all of us. Still threatened all of us. We weren’t the same any more. Could we somewhere, somehow, discover a different sort of togetherness when all of this was over?
Chapter Nineteen
I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I knew was that someone was rattling the door and I had the crazy idea that I was supposed to shout, “Come in!” The pain from my leg hit me like a bolt of lightning, and my chest felt as if someone had jumped on it.
“Wills?” I called.
There was no reply.
I heard a scuffling sound, and a dog barked.
“Wills?” I called again. There was still no answer and I guessed he must be asleep.
I heard voices and the noise of wood snapping. The door scraped on the ground. The dog barked again. Heavy boots thudded on the steps. The pigeons flapped.
“Christopher?” a man called. I saw a light dart around the room above and hover over the hole. The dog barked excitedly.
“I’m down here,” I called.
“It’s all right, son, it’s the police,” the man said. “Stay where you are, just stay there.”
I’m not going anywhere, I thought to myself.
A woman’s voice continued, “There’s nothing to be frightened of. We just want to get you back home. Are you on your own?”
“Wills is in the corner up there,” I called. “You have to be kind to him, it wasn’t his fault.”
“Wills is safe and sound outside with your parents,” the woman said. “He told us you were here.”
What did she mean? How could Wills have told them? He didn’t have his cell phone with him.
Someone began to shuffle slowly across the floorboards. They creaked loudly, sending down showers of dust.
“It’s too dangerous,” the man’s voice said. “Christopher? Are you all right?”
I tried to answer, but it was like my voice had been banged out of me. A loud groan was as much as I
