The Night Parade(46)

“Don’t want to,” she said, shutting off the water.

“Well, turn your head. Look at the wall or something.”

She turned her back to him as he unzipped his jeans. David stared up at the ceiling until he began to urinate. Midway through the process, Ellie said, “Wow. How long are you gonna pee?”

David tried to stifle a laugh, which only caused a bubble of snot to burst from his right nostril. “Keep quiet, will you?” he said, snatching a swath of toilet paper and blowing his nose.

Before they went back out in the hall, David said, “Just for the record, our last name is Smith. Okay?”

“That sounds phony-baloney.”

“Yeah? Then what name should we use?”

“Monroe,” she said. It was the last name of her best friend from school, David knew.

“Yeah, okay. Monroe. Just don’t volunteer it. You get me?”

“Sure. Don’t forget to wash your hands. You peed.”

“Christ.” He washed his hands, then opened the bathroom door.

Sam was standing there, waiting for them.

“Oh,” David said. “Hello.”

“Food’s up,” Sam said, and led them back to the kitchen.





23


David relaxed throughout the meal, which was delicious, and by the time his plate was clean, he was completely at ease with the Powells. Pauline was a wonderful cook, and she was more than happy to give both David and Ellie second helpings of everything. The pancakes were thick and fluffy, and there was a richness to the cooked meat that was both unusual and superb. David assumed he was just ravenous. By the third time David expressed how delicious the meal was, Pauline waved a hand at him and said, “Well, you’re too kind, but it’s darn hard to screw up premade pancake batter.”

During the meal, and for the sake of the children, they kept the conversation light. The tone shifted only once, when a resounded trill of a distant Klaxon interrupted the meal. It sounded disconcertingly like an air-raid siren.

Turk sensed their discomfort. “That’s the firehouse down on Cotton Road,” he said. “There’s some folks holed up there.”

“People like you?” Ellie said.

“Unfortunately, little darling, that’s not the case.” He turned his attention to David. “Like I said before, there’s some folks around here you gotta be careful of. The people down at the firehouse, well, they’re sort of like a cult, I guess you’d say.”

“Are they Worlders?” David said, referring to the burgeoning sect of people who believed that Wanderer’s Folly was nature’s way of cleaning the slate, a biological Noah’s Ark. They were opposed to any attempt to come up with a cure for the illness. David had read about them in the newspaper and a bit online. Their numbers were growing, their sects cropping up all throughout the United States and overseas.

“I don’t think they’re as crazy as all that, although they’re probably pretty close,” Turk said. “There were some rumors before the evac that some guy was healing the sick. Real sorcerer-type shit. He wound up gathering up himself a small congregation, too.”

“False prophet,” said Pauline.

Turk nodded. “They waited out the evac, same as we did, and now they’re holed up in the firehouse. Got weapons, too, I’ve heard. They sound their alarm once a day to let people know they’re still there.”

“Did they heal someone who had the Folly?” Ellie asked.

“They ain’t healed no one, sweetheart,” Turk said. “Was just stories. They want you to believe in their witchcraft.”

“Lord knows what they do to any poor soul who hears that siren and happens to follow it to them,” Pauline said. She genuflected.

“What does he look like?” Ellie asked. “The false prophet.”

Turk stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. “Ain’t never seen him. Only hear his siren. That banshee call.”

“Because I saw someone this morning,” Ellie said. “Just before you found us on the street. I saw someone and I thought maybe he wanted us to follow him.”

David placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder.

“Then you’re lucky I found you both when I did,” Turk said.

A moment later, the siren ceased. The silence that followed seemed preternatural.

Once Sam had finished his meal, he invited Ellie to go play in the yard. David nodded his approval and Ellie got up from her chair, albeit reluctantly. David was comfortable enough around this family to permit it, not to mention he had a perfect view of the backyard from the kitchen windows. He told her to stay within sight and she nodded obediently. She looked miserable. A moment later, Sam was sprinting across the back lawn while Ellie, almost cautiously, walked behind him.

“Why don’t I clean up while you boys finish your coffee on the porch,” Pauline suggested as she stood and gathered some plates.

“Sounds like a plan,” Turk said. He practically rocketed out of his seat. Slapping David on the forearm, he said, “You smoke?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s do it.”

It was more a mudroom than a porch, but it caught a good breeze and the day was warming up all around them, so sitting out there turned out to be pleasant enough. Turk offered him an unfiltered Camel, and they smoked and drank their coffee while, in the yard, Sam executed cartwheels as Ellie watched him with an expression of utter perplexity.