Chapter 5: Cartwrongs Visitation

The Franklins were just finishing supper several days later, when there was a knocking on the front door. Very rarely did they have visitors.

In the yard was a crude cart meant to be drawn by a beast. Mule or ox. In the traces instead, were two dusty sweat streaked young men, bent over at the waist, supporting their exhausted panting bodies by locked elbows, arms rigid to their hands, propped on their bent knees. An old man with a wispy gray beard and gray hair tufts escaping from under a frayed straw hat, was standing at and about to knock on the door again.

“Good Evening.” he said, and indicated the group of people behind him with a slow sweep of his extended arm.

“I am Brother Robert, an itinerant preacher and servant of God. My family and I plead distress, and hope your hearts will be generous with us. We desperately need water and any food you can spare us. As you can see, we are in extremity.”

Three hungry dirty ragged children ages from about seven to maybe twelve, huddled in one group. An exhausted middle aged woman carrying a toddler of a year to eighteen months old, stood apart with a fourteen or fifteen age girl. Riding in the cart, propped up by many large knotted bundles was a very elderly woman, probably the clans grandmother.

Tom, Alice, and Doc appeared behind Morgan. Tom introduced himself and the family. He pointed to a large oak tree in a green pasture, between the house and the road, fifty yards distant.

“Rest yourselves in the shade there. You can camp there tonight. We will organize ourselves to attend your wants. Food and water. If waiting is too much strain, a garden hose is just there. You can quench thirsts and wash yourselves under the hose.” Tom was pointing at a spigot and hose coiled near the barn.

“Thank you kind people.” The old man turned and was leading his family towards the tree, but the young men had recovered enough to sprint for the hose, and the children weren’t far behind them.

Doc went to the smithy, collected and brought back a five gallon work thermos to the garden hose. Pulling off the cap, she asked the young men to fill the thermos whenever the hose wasn’t serving as a drinking fountain. She retrieved from her emergency supplies, a package of electrolyte crystals. Mixed with water, it made a version of Gatorade. Doc dumped it into the water in the big thermos. Morgan was selecting plastic glasses from the cupboard over the sink. Alice gave him a cardboard carton containing a dozen used but clean pint ball jars. “These will serve as drinking glasses.” Morgan loaded them in the bed of the Dodge. Doc set the five gallon thermos and a pail of plain water in the truck.

“Okay Morgan. Drive it down to those folks please.” Morgan was pleased to.

Alice was scrambling three dozen eggs in a huge paella pan sitting over four hot gas burners on the range top. Tom was making peanut butter half sandwiches on home baked bread, as quickly as he could spread and fold.

Doc drove off on her bike and soon herded from the fields, a young steer, back to the barn. Expertly she slaughtered, skinned, and dressed the steer. Rather than the normal butchering sequence of cuts, she began slicing off thin strips, like thick bacon until she had dozens. She wrapped them in butcher paper. She selected from the smithy, some thin gauge scrap re-bar rods to use as skewers. Doc rode down to the oak tree on her bike, balancing the twenty pounds of meat and steel skewers across the handle bars.

“There is a wood pile by the barn. If the young men will help Morgan load some in the pickup, you can get a cook fire going, and sear these stake steaks in no time.” She demonstrated how to accordion layer and pierce weave the strips of beef onto the rod points. “Then you toast them in the fire just like a wienie roast. I need to get back to butchering so the rest of the meat isn’t ruined and lost.” They all thanked her.

Soon Morgan and the young men returned with half a load of fire wood and a half bushel of potatoes from the root cellar. “To bake in the ashes.” Morgan suggested. Alice arrived with the scrambled eggs in the paella pan, and Tom with a sack of peanut butter sandwiches and a fist full of spoons and forks.

The patriarch, because he acted and appeared to be one, lifted his arms toward heaven and called down God’s blessing upon the food. The starving family gathered around the paella pan and ate scrambled eggs from it as a communal dish. The children all ate some scrambled eggs but soon gravitated to the peanut butter. The young men were devouring raw beef, not patient enough to flame broil on skewers, or wait for the fire to burn down to coals. The thermos drink was very popular, and the level was receding fast. The water disappearing also.

Alice was pleased their guests were religious. Tom was less than impressed. “Sounded more like he was ordering God’s blessing than asking!” Tom carped.

The road was about fifty yards off, and so was the house in the other direction. Doc suggested the roadside ditch was a convenient ready made latrine for the men, and sufficiently distant from their camp to provide visual privacy. The women were invited to walk up to the house if they chose. Or cross the road. The ditch on the opposite side, was even farther from the camp and afforded more privacy. Alice dug out from among century old stored items in the attic, an antique thunder-mug for the infirm grandmother to use.

Before the sun went down, the entire cart family was sprawled on their backs sound asleep. The soporific result of over-full bellies. The Franklins welcomed retiring earlier than usual, but a few hours later, after they attended the cleaning up. It had been a long eventful day for everyone.

A few hours before sunup, there was a mighty pounding on the door and screams, yelling, and loud angry voices outside. The Franklins were rudely awakened from pleasant slumbers and ran in their night clothes to the door to investigate the bedlam of insanity on their porch.

“What is the problem here?” Demanded Tom Franklin belting his robe.

“Help us! Help us, please! Cried the middle aged woman, now known, since the previous evening, as Ann. She pleaded. “Make them leave Alma alone!”

The teenage girl was a sobbing, terrified, heap on the ground in front of the porch, and the two stringy young men were attempting to drag her away.

“Leave her alone! Get away from her!” ordered Tom.

“Make us!” taunted one of the men.

Doc sailed over the porch and it’s railing, a twenty foot leap, and landed flat footed next to the young men. One had his hands bunched in Alma’s hair, yanking and jerking on her, causing a screech with each pull on her scalp. Doc broke his nose with a flick of her backhand and he abandoned his grip on Alma’s hair. The other punk, the one who issued the taunt, took to his heels.

“You can run punk, just don’t stop until you clear the state line!” Doc warned. “But you’re running the wrong direction!”

“Let us stay with you, please?” Ann begged. “Make them leave and let us stay! We’ll work hard for our keep! We’ll do any chore! I just can’t stand being raped any more, or watching Alma get raped nearly all the time. Let us stay, Please?”

“Which ones raped you?” Tom figured it was the young men, but he asked.

“All three of them, and Robert is my own brother and his whelps my nephews and Alma’s cousins. They’ve all been taking turns raping us ever since Robert killed my husband, arguing over a chicken, months ago. We couldn’t escape. No place to go! They abuse us all the time! Especially poor Alma!”

“You don’t have to leave with them, but I’m not sure you can stay here long. Have to think about the options. Where’s your brother?” Tom asked. He yelled, “Brother Robert! Where are you!”

“Here. And you got no right interfering with my family. I won’t allow it!” Brother Robert said.

“As long as you stand on my land, I’ll tell you what is allowed and what isn’t, and abusing women and rape isn’t! The solution is as simple as the dawn. Before daybreak, be off my property or I’ll hang both of you men!” Tom ordered. “You got about two hours to pack up and git! Government’s law is gone. No police are going to ask where I buried your stinking carcass. My land, my law! Don’t matter if you don’t like it! You don’t get a vote and I’m not listening to objections!”

“You better listen to daddy. He doesn’t threaten lightly! You don’t deserve any more help. But if daddy permits me, I’m going to offer you some. First, take a rope and tie that punk with the broken nose, to the oak tree. When he’s tied up good and secure, I’ll set his nose. Afterwards, you can cut him lose.” Doc was giving the orders. “Both of his eyes are swelling up black and soon he won’t be able to see. Not for several days. He won’t be fit to pull your cart even after that. The other punk ran off, and who knows when next you might see him. Tow this punk behind the cart on a hand rope.

I have a young steer ox I’ve been lead breaking. He’s mostly broke to a lead rope and shouldn’t be too much trouble. I’m going to let you have him to pull your cart. Really, I hate the idea of giving him to you! But I can’t figure how you’ll leave if I don’t give him to you. Let him graze several times a day and again, all night. Give him plenty of water, and never, ever, beat him.” Doc was warming up. “At the cross roads, turn south. Everybody in these parts will be notified and warned about you before this day is done. You won’t find any welcomes! Not east, north, or west of here. South at the crossroads is your only option, except you and your whelp hanging for rapists.

About thirty miles down, there is a ghost town. No people, no water. Might find a few items to use, if you scavenge in the looted stores. Beware the feral dogs, they’re dangerous. Might kill and make a meal of one. If you aren’t cowards!” Doc left to get the steer that Bill the Mammoth donkey had been leading around.

“Why are you still standing there, with your mouth hanging open. Get to packing!” Tom ordered.

Brother Robert helped his injured son walk to the oak tree and began tying and lashing him to it. Alice helped Ann and Alma into the house. She insisted they each take a hot shower. She also drew a hot soak bath, One woman would need to wait her turn. Alma was draped in a sheet while waiting for her turn to soak. The women’s clothes Alice threw in the washing machine to launder. Alice bathed the baby Susan, herself. Fed her and rocked her to sleep.

“We’ll ask our neighbors if any can take you in. But don’t get too hopeful! Times are hard on everybody!” Alice promised them.

She sent Morgan to reclaim the big thermos and ball jars and other utensils that they’d lent the cart family. Told Morgan to stay out of the house until she said he could come back inside again.

Doc set the broken nose and gave a final advice. “Any suspect water, put in a clear PET plastic bottle, in bright sun at least three hours. Bacteria, amoebas, virus will all be killed by the UV. You won’t get infectious diseases. It won’t remove other pollutants, so choose your source wisely!”

Before dawn, the cart and it’s sad people were plodding away on the road, far better off, than when they arrived. They should be happy not sad! A reprieve from hanging, a travel plan, an advance scout report covering thirty miles, an example of how decent people live, a young ox to pull their cart, recently full bellies, a lesson in water treatment, three less mouths to feed. Four less if the runaway punk stayed gone! Tom and Doc hoped the three children would be okay. Tom didn’t need more people to feed, but he would have let the kids stay if they had asked to. Doc and Tom were armed to make certain the cart left and continued leaving.

An invented name so I don’t insult any-body’s family name, the Cartwrongs made it to the Walmart, and every member of that group has new clothes and changes of clothes. New bedding and pots and pans. The kids even selected a few toys.

Brother Robert admired his new toy. A thick fiberglass shark fishing rod. After removing all the line guides, he epoxied the connecting ferules together, so the rod couldn’t come apart, not even if someone grabbed and yanked on it. He’d left the thinnest last section off. He gathered up all the epoxy and super glue he could find at Walmart. Wasn’t much. In sporting goods, he found a frog gig head on a bubble card. Supposedly, you could add your own shaft. Brother Robert epoxied it on the shortened thick tip of his fishing rod. He brandished it like a rapier. En Garde Errol Flynn! It was also a good quirt. Raised a blistered welt on his son John’s bicep! A lesson not to backtalk! Let the feral dogs come! He wasn’t dog food! He was the top of the food chain, a meat eater. Instead, he would eat THEM! He would like to eat something!

Brother Robert checked the Walmart watch he’d scavenged. He was perched more or less comfortably on some assortment of scrounged Walmart pillows. The three hours were almost up! He eyed the PET bottles baking in the sun, thirstily. The kids should be back soon with whatever they were able to scrounge to eat. His stomach growled with hunger.

They had returned back north after some looting in Walmart. He was concerned about the dogs in town, and he had no information beyond the town. Recon had never concerned him before Doc laid out what was to be expected over the next thirty miles. Knowledge is power and power is addictive. His remaining son would recover from the broken nose and bruised eyes soon, and become a scout. He planned on insisting on it.

They discovered an agribiz pasture just North of Walmart on the original trek to Walmart. There were nose pumps in the pasture. Pasture pumps. Cattle pushed on an inverted spoon shape cover with their nose. Sliding the spoon cover out of the way, to get to the water bowl beneath, caused water to gush into the bowl on both retract and return. The cover was linked to a double acting diaphragm pump. The shallow ground water wells feeding the nose pumps weren’t considered safe for human consumption. Three hours of bright sun baking in a bottle cured that concern.

Tedious pumping of nose pump mechanisms and the spooning of water into bottles was an ideal chore for little kids. It was about time the urchins did something to earn their keep. Where are those kids anyway? He’d bet they found a berry patch and were gorging themselves. If they came back with berry stains and no berries, he would wear out some fannies! Spanking bottoms he enjoyed!

He liked the idea of whipping their asses, especially the girl. Give her a few more years and some flesh on her bony frame, and she might be some fun! He’d think of some excuse to chastise her. Now that he actually considered her, was she really too young? What’s too young? The law use to dictate what age was too young. This was his land! Anybody to dispute that? His land, his law!He’d make her bare behind smart some! Maybe put his brand on her even if she is too skinny and little! Everybody has to adapt to the times. The girl would need to grow up sooner than expected.

“Mama! Papa needs some lovin!” In an agitated state, he called to her. The old woman looked at him and smiled her toothless grin. They’d been married for thirty years. She was always attracted to young men. Pa was her baby brother. She’d taken care of him and was close to him when he was a little tyke. When he got older, she’d taught him how to pleasure her. He was an enthusiastic student. She was always an enthusiast herself! She still looked good at thirty five when she decided he was the safest candidate for a husband. He was only eighteen and they got married at a tent meeting. There was a whole lot of hooting and hollering went on at tent meetings. They didn’t give a hoot for religion but it was the only entertainment around. They enjoyed a real Hoot for ten years! Brother Robert practiced the preaching trade. Ma supplemented the meager plate collections with cash gifts from male admirers. Beats share cropping. The twin boys were born, when she was forty-five.

Now he was forty-eight and she was sixty-five. Both aged badly, looked twenty years older than their true ages. She still found him to be attractive. She liked the prophet Moses look. He still stirred her loins! She couldn’t remember the last time he showed any interest in her. Always younger women around to distract him. But if he wanted a go with her, she was ready and willing. She wasn’t the prune she looked. She still had life and some juice in her. She was propped up in the cart that served as her wheelchair and bed. Arthritis in her hips made walking unbearable. Cancer of the throat took her voice and a gum disease infection took her teeth years ago. She pulled off her underwear in anticipation. She was quite ready for him.

He had bottles of water for his wife and son, and one for himself. Robert dropped theirs on the ground, but drank half of his. Then capped and dropped his too. Robert wasn’t particular where they did it. He pulled her down toward the tailboard, so her legs hung out. He hoisted her skirt up, bent her knees back, and engaged her. He finished quickly. He wasn’t attracted to her, he just needed quick relief and felt no need to dawdle. Where’s those darn kids?” Brother Robert fretted!

“You ain’t much to look at ma, but if Pa ain’t treating you right, maybe you need a younger man.” John was staring at her naked thighs. She covered herself. Ma wished she could say, John wasn’t much to look at either, with his swollen blackened eyes and swollen red nose. She couldn’t talk. Couldn’t tell him anything. Couldn’t tell him to be careful with that kind of talk around Pa!

John felt himself suddenly lifted in the air and flung on the ground! Brother Robert, his Pa, was enraged, red faced, and standing over him with clinched fists! “You suggesting you’re more man than me, boy? You got ambitions to be a muther-effer? You’ve stepped way out of line, and it’s time I put you back in your place.”

In terror, John grabbed Roberts fishing rod that Robert had left leaning against the cart. He threatened his Pa’s face, to drive him back! Robert flinched, threw his head backward, avoiding the prongs in his face, but caught the frog gig in his throat instead! Shocked and further enraged, Robert grabbed it with both hands and yanked the gig from his throat. The barbs tore his throat out and the nasty wound became fatal. Brother Robert fell to the ground gurgling and bled out.

“Sorry Ma! Really! But he attacked me. It was His fault!” She nodded and smiled. “Guess Pa is in for the long sleep. “ She was vulnerable, needed a protector and provider, now that Pa was gone. Whether John was crudely joking before, or actually was incestuous minded toward his mother, she needed to find out. Needed some way to bind him to her. Besides, Pa got her in the mood, then dribbled and abandoned her. She was widowed, now! She liked a good long tickle and it was ages since she had one. Did it matter that much, who the tickler was? John was twenty, not a child. If indulging his sick fantasies enabled her survival, who could dare judge her! Who mattered to her what their opinion of her was? Her own judgment. Only her own opinion! She smiled and lifted her skirt, exposing her naked thighs and loins for him. She wiggled a crooked come hither finger.

“This is so wrong, Ma, but I feel like I can’t help myself.” John dropped his pants and stroked himself rigid. “Maybe it’s the danger and stress getting to me. Maybe because I’m so hungry! I’m uncontrollably horny, Ma! I feel I gotta have you!” She nodded and every time he thrust, she nodded to herself. She judged him correctly. John wouldn’t abandon her now, addicted and trapped by his own perverted desires. He helped himself to seconds. She didn’t object or complain at all.

“That was the best, Ma!” John collapsed on the ground. Exhausted. He found the water bottles, Robert had dropped. He passed two up to Ma, and guzzled down the half bottle remaining. More water. He crawled on hands and knees, too tired to stand. Moving in the direction he thought would bring him to the solar bottles. He couldn’t see well out of his bruised, swollen eyes. By shear dumb luck he found the pile of pillows. He was asleep on them in no time at all.

Ma brushed the tangles out of her thick iron gray hair. She wanted to be more presentable by the time John returned. She was determined NOT to appear ugly! She had stripped off her soiled dress. Had new ones from the Walmart loot ready to put on. Easing herself off of the cart she treated as her wheelchair, she painfully squatted and peed. Squatting on her haunches wasn’t bad. It was the raising and lowering that caused the sharp pains in her hip joints. Walking was agony. She drank some of the water John gave her. Used the rest to douche and wash. She’d ask for more water when he returned. She observing the matted damp beard between her legs. John might appreciate a bit less hair there. Being toothless, before gumming those foods she could manage, she always cut the food into fine slivers. Scissors worked better than a knife and fork for this. Scissors could be used one handed, so she always kept several pair stashed near by. Plucking up a pair she began to trim. She snipped as closely as possible. Her pale flesh began emerging from the dusky tangle of jungle.

“Hello, Ma.”

She looked up. Her other son, John’s twin brother, Ron, was looking at her calculatingly, while chewing on a weed stem. Can you look more country than that? She smiled. Nope.

“I’m glad you’re glad to see me, Ma.” Ron thought the smile was for him. “That’s some pretty interesting scissor work you’re doing. Ever consider using pinking shears?” He chuckled.

She shook her head no. Smiled because the thought of using pinking shears to trim her pubes WAS funny. Ron was studying her nearly hairless crotch with interest. She knew that look. Loved it! Gave her a sense of power! Being the only woman in the neighborhood had it’s charm! Ron leaned into the cart and rummaged about. He extracted a kid’s tee shirt. “Try this on, Ma!” He handed her the small shirt.

She shrugged, ‘Okay’. Then shrugged into the tee shirt. It was one of Stephanie’s. Couldn’t have been one of the boys, they were too small by half! Even this one was too small! She got it pulled down as far as her navel. Rearranged her lifted flattened breasts more comfortably. Pulled her own turgid nipples for fun.

Ron held out his hand. What did he want? He snapped his fingers impatiently. She offered him the scissors, she had nothing else. He took the scissors in one hand, and pinched up tee shirt material over a nipple, with the fingers on the other hand. He snipped a small hole in the tee shirt, and slid it over, until her long thick nipple popped through. Then, he freed her other nipple the same way, and returned the scissors to her.

“Now, That’s sexy, Ma! Seeing your dugs hang below your knees, ain’t!” He laughed. “Let’s see how good a job you did.”

Ron caught her under her armpits, and hoisted her up so she could just sit naked on the edge of the cart. He tipped her back. The cart bundles wouldn’t let her fully recline. “You’re turning into skin and bones, Ma. We gotta start eating regular. Fatten you up! You’re only plump in one place!” He grabbed and squeezed her fatty plump labia in his fist! “I’m going for a razor and water. You wait here! He studied his wet hand and grinned! “We’ll make you pretty, Ma, like a young girl again!”

She wasn’t going anywhere, couldn’t. Besides, she wouldn’t abandon the attention Ron was paying her for anything! She’d let John have her, to insure survival! Now, that bridge was already crossed, why not? The idea of Ron shaving her lubed her up! Excited her. He was helping her get prettied up, for his own pleasure. She would love to be pretty and desirable again. Maybe she didn’t need to be very pretty, just not ugly! Today was interesting! John and Ron; young, strong, virile, incestuous sons! They desired her! She loved them for that! She may as well enjoy them, as they enjoyed her!

Just Kids

Stephanie decided she didn’t intend on returning to the cart camp. Not if she could help it! Whack!

“You little RAT!” She chased Phil with her swimming pool noodle, whirling it over her head. “I’ll teach you NOT to sneak up and ambush ME, you little twerp!”

Phil laughingly dodged and remained out of whacking range. Stevie ran out from between two empty shelving units and nailed one into the bleachers, if Phil’s head had been a baseball and the noodle a bat.

“I’ll get you, assassin!” Phil screamed! Stevie dashed away back between the racks taunting.

“Sissy Phil can dish it, but can’t take it!” laughing and running and Phil hot on his heels, and Stephanie, almost in whacking range, in hot pursuit after Phil. The three kids battled all over Walmart, except near the empty meat counter. That smelled of death. Putrefying blood and meat juices pooled somewhere stunk to heaven!

Thunder rolled outside, and boomed inside the nearly emptied warehouse store. Rain burst from the charcoal skies and drummed the parking lot. Subdued, the children were drawn to the broken entrance, wide eyed, watching the storm and squealing when a gust carried spray over them.

Stephanie decided now or never. “I’m not going back, unless you little guys need me to walk you all the way back! I’m done with mean old Brother Robert. I don’t like the way he looks at me.”

“We ain’t little guys! Just because you’re older and taller, doesn’t mean you’re braver. You’re a girl, and we’re men! We don’t NEED anybody! Besides? How come you didn’t stay with Ann and Alma and Susan at the farm? You waited to HERE to cut and run?”

“OKAY! Tough guys. I’m sleeping here tonight. What’re you going to do?” Stephanie said bravely. “I almost asked to stay with Ann and Alma, but I didn’t want anybody to think I’d been raped!”

“What are YOU going to do when the dogs come prowling around after dark?” Phil grinned wickedly. “Mess your drawers, that’s what!”

“Will NOT!” She denied.

“Will TOO!” Stevie seconded Phil.

“I’m going to drag a mattress and pillows and sheets and blankets into the girls room. I’m going to barricade the door and have a peaceful dry, comfortable nights sleep!” Stephanie announced, her arms crossed over her thin chest.

“We won’t LET you! We’re going to pound on the door and make rackets all night long!” threatened Stevie.

“Yes we WILL!” yelled Phil

“I’ll sit on your head, break wind, and smother you!” Stephanie threatened Phil.

“He’d LIKE it!” Stevie annulled her sting.

“Would NOT!” Phil was angry.

“You said you wanted to wear her shorts on your head!” Stevie dodged and ducked Phil’s flurry of wild punches.

“Did NOT, you little traitor!” Phil should have taken the fifth. Even while Phil landed one between Stevie’s shoulder blades, and frequently backstabbed another fist into Stevie’s spine, Stevie was ecstatic in victory, as he was chased around.

“See! You ADMITTED it!” hahaheehee!. Stevie taunted!

“Knock it off, fellas!” Stephanie was suddenly serious. “We better get things set up, while we still got light to see!”

They began collecting and hoarding bedding in the girls bathroom. Stephanie wouldn’t sleep in the boys, and THEY weren’t sleeping ANYWHERE else without Stephanie.

It was pitch black dark!

When night fell, they huddled together in the girls room with an extra mattress wedged crosswise barricading the outward opening door. They tied a piece of rope to the door closer mechanism on the inside, and wrapped it around their bodies, to prevent the dogs from pulling the door open from the outside. Just in case, these dogs were canny about pulling open doors. Better safe than sorry! All three dozed off, but woke up in the pitch blackness, because something was scratching at the door. The scrabbling of paws sounded like it was trying to tunnel under. They were terrified!

Stephanie yelled, “GET OUT OF HERE!” They heard the paws fleeing. It was tense! Fear was still in the air, palpable! It was thick. You could taste the sour iron bitterness! Stephanie couldn’t stand the tension any longer. Had to DO something! “Is it true you wanted to wear my shorts on your head?” she asked Phil. Cracked them up! They laughed and giggled until they were exhausted. It was the release of tension, that maintained the gales of laughter, more than the joke itself. They slept eventually, till late morning.

When they went outside in the morning, to find places to pee, they were amazed at the standing puddles of water all over the parking lot. Soon, they were having a hilarious time running through and jumping in the puddles, splashing each other, just having a riot.

The service truck came rolling in fast, with bow waves from the front tires, and a wake from the rears. The kids were like deer caught in headlights. They froze! “Hi.” the man spoke gently to Stephanie and smiled. “is your folks nearby?”

Stephanie was unsure how to answer this trick question. If she said yes, he might want her to produce them. If she said no, what if he turned out to be one of those predators that hurt little kids?

She shrugged noncommittally. An ‘I don’t know ‘ gesture put the ball square back in his court.