The House in the Cerulean Sea(66)

He’d asked similar questions before at other orphanages, and he could always tell when the children had been coached to say what they thought he needed to hear. There was always a note of artifice to their bright words of happiness and joy and No, Mr. Baker, absolutely nothing is wrong, and I am filled with joy.

It wasn’t like that here. Here, Talia would stare at him suspiciously and demand to know why he was asking and did she need to get her shovel? Here, Phee would laugh and tell him she didn’t want to be anywhere else, because these were her trees and her people. Here, Lucy grinned at him and said, Oh yes, Mr. Baker, I would like to go somewhere else, one day, but only if all the others came with him and agreed on his ideas of world domination. Here, Chauncey’s eyes would bounce and he’d say he loved the island, but that he did wish there was a hotel here so he could carry luggage. Here, Theodore would stumble over his wings in his excitement at seeing Arthur, even if Arthur had only been gone for a few minutes.

And it was here, on the Thursday near the end of the second week, that Sal appeared at a quarter past five on the porch of the guest house, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Linus opened the door after hearing a knock, surprised to find Sal by himself. He leaned out, sure that one of the other children would be there hiding, but no.

It was just Sal.

Linus quickly schooled his face, not wanting to scare the boy. “Hello, Sal.”

Sal’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. He glanced over his shoulder, and even though Linus couldn’t see him, he was sure Arthur was watching from somewhere. He didn’t know how he knew, but Linus was under the impression that not much happened on the island without Arthur knowing.

Sal turned back toward Linus and lowered his gaze to the floor. His hands were in fists at his sides, and he was breathing heavily. Linus was getting worried that something was wrong, but then Calliope walked through Linus’s legs and began to rub against Sal. She meowed loudly at him, arching her back, ears twitching.

Sal smiled softly down at her and seemed to relax.

“She’s a good cat,” Linus said quietly. “Gives me a bit of trouble every now and then, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“I like cats,” Sal said, voice barely above a whisper. “Most times, they don’t like me. Because of the dog thing.”

“Calliope’s a little different. She likes you.”

Sal looked up at him. “Really?”

Linus shrugged. “Do you hear the way she’s talking to you?”

Sal nodded.

“I’ve never heard her do that before. Oh, she purrs like a normal cat, but she never meows. At least not until we got here. And not until she met you.”

Sal looked shocked. “Wow,” he said, looking back down at her. “I wonder why.”

“I like to think it’s because she’s a good judge of character. That perhaps she senses something in you that allows her to speak. Cats are very smart that way. If they sense someone isn’t a good person, they tend to avoid them, or even attack them.”

“She’s never attacked me,” Sal said.

“I know. She likes you.”

Sal scratched the back of his neck. “I like her too.”

“Good,” Linus said. “Because as much as cats can tell about people, you can always judge a person by how they treat animals. If there is cruelty, then that person should be avoided at all costs. If there is kindness, I like to think it’s the mark of a good soul.”

“I’m kind to animals,” Sal said, sounding more animated than Linus had ever heard him. “And they always seem to like me.”

“How about that,” Linus said, amused. “I’m so very pleased to hear it.”

Sal flushed and looked away. When he spoke again, he mumbled something Linus couldn’t quite make out.

“Say that again, please? I didn’t hear it.”

Sal took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was wondering if I could show you my room.”

Linus kept his voice even, though he was more thrilled than he expected to be. “I would like that.” He hesitated. “Did anyone put you up to this? Because I don’t want you doing something you’re not ready for.”

Sal shrugged awkwardly. “Arthur said before you got here that you’d want to see it, but he’s never brought it up again.”

Linus was relieved. “And none of the other children—”

He shook his head. “No. I mean, I know you’ve already seen their rooms, but … they didn’t say anything.”

Linus wanted to ask why now, but decided to keep that to himself. He didn’t need to put more pressure on the boy. “Then I would be delighted.”

“Can Calliope come too?” Sal asked in a rush. “If that’s okay. I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone—”

Linus held up a hand. “Absolutely. Though, we’ll leave that up to her. If she follows, which I expect she will, then so be it.”

“Okay.”

“Shall we?”

Sal gnawed on his lip again before nodding tightly.

Linus closed the door to the guest house behind him.



* * *



Calliope came with them, as Linus thought she would. She continued to walk up to Sal, only going a few feet ahead before turning and coming back to him. Linus almost felt put out by her obvious show of affection, but since he was a forty-year-old man and not a sullen teenager, he didn’t say a word. Besides, he told himself, she was obviously helping, and Linus wasn’t going to say no to that.