That night, Kevin tied Sammy up and went out. He left Sammy lying on the ground. It was darker than dark. It was the darkest dark Sammy had ever been in. Darker than being in a closet with the door closed.
There were sounds all around him. Crinkly sounds, like somebody walking toward him. They stopped, and another sound started, like papers being torn into little pieces. He listened; he listened so hard, he thought his ears got as big as TV dishes. Something was moving from one place to another. Inside? Snakes? Sammy drew his head in. He wished he was a turtle and could pull his whole self into a safe little house.
“Oh, Mom, where are you?” There was comfort in hearing a voice, any voice. It was his own, Sammy’s voice. Kevin said he had to be quiet, but he was talking, anyway.
“I want to go home. I want to see my mother. I want to see Bethan, my sister. I want to go home.” He said it loud. Then louder. Then he shouted it. “I WANT TO GO HOME.”
* * *
He slept and woke. Hunger kept waking him up. His stomach was eating him. It was so dark, sometimes he didn’t know if he was asleep or awake or where the dark ended and he started. He closed his eyes. It was better to sleep. Sleep, he told himself. Maybe this time, he’d wake up in the right place, his own place, in his own bed.
* * *
Sammy was asleep when Kevin returned. Kevin’s flashlight woke him. “Kevin?”
“Don’t call me that.” Kevin flashed the light in Sammy’s eyes, then all around. “Don’t call me that, never, ever.” He lit a candle. “Call me that and I’ll kill you.”
“I’ll never call you that,” Sammy said.
“I hate the name Kevin.”
“Me, too,” Sammy said.
The wild kid untied him, then lay down on the mattress, hands hooked under his head. “Tell me that story again, how they put you out of the house.”
“They pushed me out.”
“Who’s they?”
“My mom and Carl.” Each time he said his mother’s name he was glad. Kevin would know he wasn’t alone. There were a whole lot of people waiting for him. His mother and his sister and Carl.
“Who’s Carl?”
“My mother’s friend.” Sammy moved his hands up and down. He wanted words, more words. He wanted to keep talking, to say more things to Kevin, because it made Kevin not so scary.
“Carl’s really my mom’s boyfriend, but she says he’s sort of like an uncle.”
“Uncle!” Kevin snorted. “Is that what she said? What did they throw you out for? I bet you’re a king-size, royal pain in the ass. You must have done something to get them going.”
“I said a bad word.”
“Bad word! How many bad words? Just one? What was it?”
When Kevin heard the word, he went, “Hoo-eee,” and kicked his legs up in the air. He had an exploding, motor kind of laugh that never stopped. “Tell me more. This is really good. They kicked you out for that word? You want to hear some bad words?”
He said a bunch of bad words and threw himself around on the mattress, he was laughing so hard.
“You ever hear of K-Man?” he asked.
“Is that like Batman?”
“K-Man’s like nobody but K-Man. He’s here, he’s there, he’s invisible. He can turn himself into a tree or a rock, or disappear into the side of a building. K-Man will defend himself, no matter what. He’ll fight a King Kong gorilla if he has to. K-Man never makes mistakes.”
Suddenly he stopped, one hand raised. He gripped Sammy’s arm. “Owww,” Sammy said.
“Shut up! Don’t move. Don’t talk. Don’t even breathe.” He blew out the candle, listened, then went out through the plastic curtain.
Sammy crept to the entrance on his hands and knees, and like a dog, he sniffed things, the trees and leaves and dirt on the ground. If he was a real dog, he could smell his way home.
“What are you doing?” The wild kid reappeared. “Did I tell you to stay inside or didn’t I?” He slapped Sammy and pushed him back inside. “You gotta do what I tell you.”
He flopped down on the mattress again. “Rats,” he said. “That’s all it was. They can sound like a whole army. What were we talking about?”
Sammy didn’t say anything.
“They used to lock me up. In a closet, once, and another time they stuffed me in the trunk of a car. If they tried it now”—He sat up and slashed around like a karate fighter—“This is what I’m going to do, only they’re never going to get me, because they’re never going to find this place.”
Sammy was silent.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“I don’t like being hit.”
“Big deal.” The wild kid swung at Sammy and stopped his fist an inch from Sammy’s face. He hung over Sammy, his fist clenched, showing his broken teeth. “I could punch your face off. Nobody knows I’m here, nobody would guess in a million years. Nobody, till you came along with your dumb luck and fell right on top of me. Only a stupid kid would do that.”
Sammy fell asleep sitting up while Kevin was talking, and when he woke, his head was sunk so deep on his chest, his neck felt broken.
Kevin was asleep. A square of gray light filled the window. Sammy crept carefully around Kevin, whose bare feet stuck out from under a blanket. Sammy got his head outside, and he was just putting one foot out when a hand grabbed his ankle.