out here, okay? Don’t go anywhere. Promise?”
He rolled his eyes. She waited until he grudgingly held up his right hand. Right hand meant a promise, and Dougie knew if he broke it, Shiloh would never trust him again.
She took off for the stairs at the side of the building that led right to the third floor without having to go inside and maybe run into people who wondered why she wasn’t in school. Her father was off looking for work, and once she carefully avoided the four steps that didn’t look safe and went inside, she saw her mother was sleeping again. She tiptoed into the room she was sharing with Dougie and got the paper and a pen. She wished she had tape so he could tape the leaves on the paper, but tape cost money. Maybe Dougie could trace around them.
If he would just sit long enough to do it.
Outside again she turned the corner where he should have been waiting and saw him in the distance instead, near the big parking lot behind the church. Frowning, she went to lecture him and slowed when she realized he was chatting with a man. The man wasn’t exactly a stranger. He had sat beside her in church yesterday. She rarely forgot faces anyway, but his was interesting enough to be memorable.
He was tall, large, but not overweight. He had dark hair that curled just a little and skin that either tanned perfectly—unlike her own—or was naturally that color. Yesterday she had noticed his eyes, a deep chocolate brown that managed somehow to convey a lot of feeling. He hadn’t known who she was, but she thought maybe as Reverend Ana told the family’s story he had guessed. He’d tried to make her feel welcome by sharing his hymnal and smiling warmly, as if to encourage her to stay beside him.
Now he was smiling at her brother, listening as Dougie chatted a mile a minute, either giving away their family secrets or explaining that while most people were descended from Adam and Eve, Dougie himself was descended from space aliens. He’d gotten that from some television show when they’d still had money for cheap motels. Half the time she thought maybe he was right. Space aliens would explain a lot about her brother.
“Hello again,” the man said when she joined them. “You and I met yesterday. Or almost. I’m Isaiah Colburn.” He held out his hand, and she grudgingly took it and told him her name.
“This is my brother, Dougie, and he was supposed to wait for me over there.” She nodded back toward the church.
“You didn’t say I had to stay in that exact spot! And you found me, didn’t you?”
She glared at him. “After I looked.”
Isaiah laughed. “I have an older sister, and she still gets upset if I’m not doing exactly what she thinks I ought to.”
“Well, I’m in charge of him.”
“And doing a fine job from what I can tell. Dougie was very careful not to cross the street.”
“It’s like trying to keep a hummingbird on a leash.”
He laughed again. “You’re living here now?”
“I’m sure you figured that out. We’re that homeless family.”
“Not anymore.”
“Not for two more weeks anyway. Unless Dougie here blows it.” She glared at her brother again.
“Reverend Wagner said she’s going to try to find you a better place?”
It took her a moment to figure out he meant Analiese. “Yeah, she’s okay. But I don’t think everybody is as nice as she is. I don’t think the rest of them want us here.”
“Are you guessing?”
“Educated guessing. We make people remember that the thing that happened to us could happen to them.”
He whistled softly. “Good insight, Shiloh.”
“It’s not worth as much as a month’s rent.”
“I know this has been a tough time for you and your family.”
“You could say that.”
“He just did,” Dougie said.
She was surprised her brother had actually been listening. Dougie was usually off in his own little world.
“I notice you’re not in school,” Isaiah said. “Are you going to register today?”
“School’s a waste of time. I’m teaching Dougie. We’re about to take a walk and look at trees.”
“I’m a big admirer of trees. That sycamore there?” Isaiah pointed to a tree closer to the parish house with a few yellow leaves clinging to its branches. “It’s special because of the bark. All trees have to shed or stretch their bark to grow, but the sycamore’s bark is rigid and it can’t stretch. So it splits open and that’s what gives the tree its mottled appearance.”
“What’s mottled?” Dougie asked.
“Different colors. Want to go look up close?”
Shiloh hadn’t known what kind of tree that was and frankly hadn’t cared. But now she trooped along, and more surprisingly, so did her brother, who suddenly seemed interested.
Isaiah lifted a yellowed leaf off the ground beneath the sycamore and gave it to Dougie, talking about the shape, using his hand to explain what palmate meant. “Squirrels like these trees because the branches twist and turn, and that helps them feel safer from predators. Without the leaves you can see the branches better.” He pointed up.
“How do you know so much?” Shiloh asked.
“I spend a lot of time outdoors when I can. Trees interest me.” He inclined his head. “What interests you?”
“A roof over our heads?”
“What else? When you aren’t worrying, which is rare, I know, but what interests you both that has nothing to do with your situation?”
The question was so direct and so, well, interesting, that she couldn’t tell him to shove off. He seemed to really care about her answer.
“I like to run,” Dougie said. “As fast as I can, and I’m fast. I really, really am.”
“I just bet. Do you like sports?”
“He wouldn’t know,” Shiloh said. “Running’s free, and you can do it anywhere.”
“So you can. And it’s good practice for everything else, too.”
“If bad guys come, I can get away,” Dougie said.
Isaiah looked sadder, but he nodded. “Well, I was thinking more of baseball and football. That kind of thing.”
“I like to fish. My dad fishes, and he used to take me with him when I was really little.”
Isaiah nodded again, as if Dougie’s words were somehow profound. “And you, Shiloh?”
The question should have been easy, but
