Chapter 4

Thanks to jim for editing!

"Here," Frank said, pressing a stone into the palm of Rudy's small hand. "The flat ones work best. Try it." Her small face scrunched up in concentration as she took the stone and tossed it like Frank had just shown her, and grinned when it skipped twice over the lake. Frank smiled at her success. "Nice one, Rudy. Wanna try again?"

"No. Throwing rocks isn't that fun. My stomach hurts."

"That's because you're hungry," Frank informed her. "We should have had lunch by now."

With their mother working during the day, Frank found that he wasn't the best babysitter on the planet. He didn't mind his sister, but she was odd when it came to basic necessities. She was one of those kids that needed to be reminded of everything between eating a meal and going to the bathroom before they left the house. Frank had enough trouble remembering those things on his own, let alone for someone else.

"Can we go inside now?" Rudy asked.

Frank nodded, looking towards the sky. It was overcast again, and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. The clouds kept getting closer to the ground, as if they intended to crush him. "Yeah. What do you want to eat?"

"Soup." That wasn't a surprise. She always wanted soup. She liked soup.

"Okay, go get it out," Frank said, and then as she headed towards the house, he added, "Don't touch that stove."

"I'm old enough to use the stove!" Rudy called back, rolling her eyes.

Frank sighed. He was right behind his sister, but not before his eyes drifted to where they'd been going for days now. The red roof across the lake looked farther every time he set eyes on it. The day he'd gone to town with David Martin, Frank had come home hoping to receive another visit from Oliver, but it hadn't happened. Oliver hadn't come the next day, either. Or any day, for nearly a week now. Frank hoped that he wasn't in trouble. He hoped that David wasn't in trouble, either. He'd been tempted to go across the lake to find out, but hadn't had much of an opportunity to over the last few days. His mom had taken up employment at the ice cream parlor rather quickly--less than twenty-four hours after Frank had given her the message--and he'd been stuck watching his sister, and would be until her day camp reopened after a minor insect infestation. He didn't mind watching Rudy, exactly. They got along well enough, and they'd made a lot of progress in the house as far as organization went. But having to be responsible for Rudy did prevent him from some things, especially paying a visit to the Martins. After Mrs. Martin blatantly told him to stay away, he didn't want to risk a confrontation with his little sister in tow.

He shook his head at the situation and went to help Rudy make her lunch. It was fairly easy now that the kitchen was clean, and everything they didn't use on a daily basis had been moved to either the attic or the storage shed outside, and there was room to walk just about anywhere inside. There was even space on the floor for a bowl of cat food. When David's mom had started setting it out for the strays they couldn't seem to get out of the house, he'd been opposed to the idea. But more recently, he'd found himself shooing the four cats he saw regularly in the house away from the door when they tried to go outside. He'd seen just how safe strays were on the other side of his door, and didn't care for it.

After lunch he worked with Rudy in the garden she'd planted behind the house, if staring at the ground counted as work. His sister had planted a few seeds the day after they moved in, but wasn't having much luck with growing them. She was becoming less optimistic about the success of her garden, and to cheer her up, Frank suggested that they go for a walk. He wanted to take her on the trail that led to the place where he met Oliver. He'd rethought the idea of turning the old building into a clubhouse for her. He no longer liked the idea of Rudy out there alone. But, at least they could do some exploring and pass the time before their mother got home.

To Frank, it seemed like a longer trip without his bike, but he was distracted from most of it as he talked with his sister about their new home. Rudy had seemed to adjust so quickly that it was surprising for Frank to learn that his sister was having as difficult a time with things as he was. She claimed that she couldn't understand half the girls at camp because they talked funny, so some didn't like her, and she missed how things used to be. She wanted to call her friends like their mom said she could when they got phone service. But, it seemed that she still had two more days to wait. Frank suggested that she write to her friends as he had done his second day there, but Rudy insisted a phone call was better. She was probably right, Frank thought, since he hadn't heard back from anyone yet.

"Do you think Dad will call when we have a phone?" Rudy asked.

Why would we want him to? Frank wanted to know, but he didn't dare say it out loud. He figured his sister was delusional when it came to their father. She was still caught up in the fantasy that he'd come back. Frank was always tempted to tell her that in reality, the man was the biggest ass who'd ever lived, but his mom had asked that he not say anything mean about their dad in front of Rudy. Frank had chosen to respect that for the time being. But he wasn't willing to encourage the fantasy, either.

"I don't know, Rudy. He won't even have our number."

"Mom says I can call and give it to him."

"If you can get a hold of him." Frank had gone through months of calling after their father had first left. He'd finally grown tired of constantly being told his father was too busy to talk, and the promises that were never kept. Now, he liked to think that he was over it.

"Maybe he'll come visit. Do you think he'll go in the lake with us? Mom says it's going to warm up really soon, so maybe we can go swimming."

"Let's go this way, Rudy," Frank said when he noticed his sister moving off the trail. Besides, he was ready for a subject change. "It's starting to smell like rain. I don't want to get lost out here if it does."

Rudy turned up her nose to sniff at the humid air. "I don't smell anything."

"Let's not get lost, anyway," Frank insisted.

Frank led his sister to the shed, which seemed to be in worse shape after the most recent storm. She wasn't very impressed with it, so they continued on, following another trail that Frank hadn't explored yet. There wasn't much there, either, except a curious raccoon that Frank had to chase off before it decided to follow them home. Nothing really interesting happened until they headed back home. Even before they reached the low bridge, Frank spotted a familiar motorboat near it and urged Rudy to pick up the pace.

"Is Oliver here?" Rudy asked when she saw the boat.

Frank hoped so. He would have settled for seeing either of the brothers. But Frank hoped that if it was David who'd brought the boat over, he'd see Oliver with him. But there was only one boy standing outside of Frank and Rudy's house, and Frank was annoyed that from the distance, he couldn't tell which one it was. As they got closer, however, Frank smiled to himself as he looked over the boy's nervous stance as he fisted the bottom of his t-shirt and regarded the house anxiously like he wasn't sure he wanted to approach it. Body language alone told him that he was dealing with Oliver Martin. The way the boy finally noticed them coming and grinned widely told Frank the same thing all over again.

"Frank!" Oliver waved, but as he went to meet Frank and Rudy, he seemed less animated than Frank remembered from their previous visits.

"Hi, Oliver," Rudy said politely as they reached each other. "I saw your boat, do you think we can ride in it if it doesn't rain?"

Oliver looked pleased. "That would be fun, Rudy. D'you like frogs?"

Rudy made a face. "They're slimy."

Oliver frowned. "There's nothing wrong with being slimy."

Rudy giggled. "Yeah, it's gross."

"Oh... well I've got a lucky chicken."

Rudy made another face.

"What makes a chicken lucky?"

Oliver told her it just was, and Rudy began to ask him another whole list about the bird, but Frank wasn't really paying attention to their conversation. He was looking Oliver over, not sure what to make of what he saw. There was something different. Like, Oliver seemed tired. Looked it. The circles under his eyes weren't exactly dark, but noticeable because his complexion seemed pale today, even beneath the shadows of the clouds. His face seemed dirty at first, but upon closer inspection, Frank realized that it was as smooth as always, shining from the humidity, and the dark spots he could just barely make out looked like faded bruises.

"I'm glad you came over, Oliver," Frank interrupted the conversation between his sister and their guest. He wasn't really sure who he'd cut off, but no one seemed to mind. "I've been wondering where you were."

"I was at home, Frank. I wanted to see you. So now I'm here."

"Since Oliver's here, can we play cards, Frank?" Rudy asked. "Last time he told me he'd show me how to play poker."

Frank raised an eyebrow at that, but shrugged and gave his sister a nod. "Sure, if you can find the cards."

"Come on, Oliver!" Rudy called as she moved ahead of them into the house.

Frank watched as Oliver watched Rudy, looking bemused. He patted Oliver's shoulder to get his attention. "Come on, let's go inside, okay? It's a lot cleaner this time, I promise."

Oliver smiled as he walked up the stairs alongside Frank. "That's okay, Frank. I don't care if it's not clean," he insisted, but when they walked into the cleared-out and organized living room, his eyes widened. "Wow!"

Frank laughed as he pulled Oliver into the house. "My mom's working in town," Frank explained. "I wanted to go see you, but I've had to watch my sister... are you alright, Oliver?"

"Sure, Frank."

"Are you sure?" Frank asked, getting a little closer to provide himself with a better inspection. "Were you sick or something?"

Oliver cocked his head, like it might help him understand the question better. The corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. "I don't remember, Frank. Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You don't remember?"

Oliver shrugged as his gaze shifted from Frank's. He moved further into the room, and for a moment, Frank worried that he was going to avoid the question. But Oliver didn't seem to have that problem today. "Sometimes I don't remember stuff," Oliver explained, and then added defensively, "but my mom says it doesn't make me wrong, just different. I'm not wrong, Frank."

"I know you're not," Frank replied seriously. "It's just... well, you look kind of..."

Oliver frowned, and turned his head down to look himself over the best he could. "What's wrong with the way I look, Frank?"

"Nothing," Frank said quickly. "You look... you're... there's nothing wrong with the way you look, Oliver. It's just, well, you seem tired. Or something. Do you feel tired?"

"A little," Oliver admitted. "And my eyes have been hurting." He suddenly looked concerned. "Do you think I'm sick, Frank?"

"I don't know. I don't think so, Oliver. Look... did someone hurt you?" Frank had been afraid to ask the question, but managed to get it out, anyway.

"The witch that used to live here threw a rock at my head once."

Frank sighed, and gently grabbed Oliver's arm to lead him over to the sofa. "That's not what I meant, Oliver. I meant... since the last time I saw you. Your mom seemed kind of angry when I took you home, remember? Did she..."

"My mom wouldn't hurt me, Frank," Oliver said somewhat angrily, and Frank was immediately reminded that while Oliver could seem childlike, it was best not to approach him like one. He seemed to understand more than he was given credit for. Maybe he didn't yet understand the reason for Frank's questioning, but he could obviously see where it was leading. It seemed safe to conclude that he didn't like it.

"I'm sorry, it's just... I've been worried about you. And, you look like something happened. You know if your parents did do something to you, you could tell me, Oliver. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

Oliver studied Frank for a long moment as he leaned further back into the sofa, and then smiled. "I know that, Frank. That's why I like you."

"So do you trust me then?" Frank asked. "Can you at least tell me where you've been all week... you said you were going to come back but never did."

"I couldn't," Oliver said, looking sheepish as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "My mom and dad said I shouldn't visit you anymore."

"Why not?" Frank asked, even though what Oliver was saying didn't surprise him.

"Don't know... they don't like me talking to people sometimes because people are mean... but you're not, Frank. That's why I wanted to see you. They wouldn't let me, so I went out the window like David," he explained, looking pleased with himself. "David showed me how to break their lock. They don't know I'm here, Frank... I'm gonna be in trouble when I go home."

Frank frowned at that. No he wouldn't, he decided. Frank wasn't sure what exactly was wrong with Oliver's parents, but at this point he was positive that it was something. He had a sickening feeling that getting into trouble in the Martin house involved more than a time out and a missed dessert. He didn't want Oliver to go back there. And, while that might not have been possible, Frank would do his best to keep Oliver with him for as long as possible. At least, until his mom came home. He could talk to her. She might think he was overreacting again, but at least Frank knew she would listen.

"Don't worry about that, okay? My mom will be home in a few hours. I'll ask her to talk to your parents and find out... we'll see if they'll let you visit."

Oliver looked thoughtful. "Do you think your mom would do that, Frank?"

Frank smiled. "Sure she will... I'll ask her to see if David can visit, too. Did he tell you I met him?" When Oliver shook his head, Frank explained how he'd met David the same day that he'd wanted Oliver to go into town with him. But as he told Oliver about the time he'd spent with his brother, Frank couldn't help noticing that Oliver appeared troubled by it, more than anything. Frank almost felt guilty for that, deciding that Oliver felt left out because he hadn't been included in the outing, but instead of apologizing for it, Frank finished by asking Oliver another question that he felt was more important at the moment. "Oliver? Where's David now? He's not in trouble, is he?"

Frank didn't get his answer. Rudy appeared in the living room, excited over the deck of cards she'd found. It seemed to distract Oliver from the conversation, and Frank didn't want to bring it up again until they were alone. In the meantime, Frank and Rudy enjoyed Oliver's company, and playing a game of cards with him was a nice change from the isolation from anyone other than their own company, and the work they'd been doing to help their mom while she was gone.

Oliver managed to surprise Frank again as they played poker for chocolate chip cookies. Apparently, he was rather fond of the game, and had no problem explaining it to Rudy as they played in a team against Frank. Oliver, whose expression often said everything for him, turned out to have such a great poker face that Frank never stood a chance. But, he had fun, and laughed when both Rudy and Oliver complained of stomach aches when they ate too many of their winnings.

It started to rain, just as Frank had thought it would, but this time the storm wasn't nearly as nerve-racking. It was only a light sprinkle, but the clouds turned the sky dark and the three of them set out around the house to turn on lights as a result. Oliver still seemed nervous every time he ran into a cat, and did his best to avoid them, which is why Frank made sure to chase the one hiding under the bed out of his room when Oliver took an interest in his computer.

Rudy was downstairs painting her paint-by-numbers, listening to boy-band music, and to avoid his sister's off-key voice singing along with it, Frank hid in his room, stretched out on his bed and watched Oliver. Oliver was at an old card table, converted into a desk, and appeared fascinated with a game on the computer that allowed him to build cities, only to destroy them with natural disasters, or sometimes more unnatural disasters. Like Godzilla.

"Are places with this many buildings really that busy?" Oliver asked as he looked over the city he'd constructed over the last hour. "My mom says the stuff we see on TV is just Hollywood."

"Sometimes," Frank replied. "Haven't you ever been away from here, Oliver? I mean, not just to town, but to... somewhere else?"

Oliver glanced over his shoulder to meet Frank's eyes. "One time. I was too little to remember. We went to see my grandma in New Mexico when she died. That's when I fell."

Frank sat up. "How did you fall?"

Oliver ran his fingers through his hair, but they lingered there on his head, as if searching for something. "My dad said he couldn't catch me in time. He feels real bad about that. It's not his fault, though. I wanted to see the bird outside the window... I don't remember it. But it wasn't a lucky chicken, Frank."

"You fell out a window?"

Oliver nodded. "Broke my head right open. Don't remember what happened after. I didn't wake up for a long time. But the doctors fixed me. Wanna feel it?"

Frank nodded curiously as Oliver continued to rub at his head when he left the chair to sit next to Frank on the bed.

"You can feel it everywhere," Oliver said quietly as he tilted his head towards Frank.

"Does it hurt?" Frank asked.

"No," Oliver replied. "But it's like... I can always feel that the scars are there."

Frank lifted his hand, convinced he wasn't going to hurt anything, and hesitated only a moment before placing his palm over the top of Oliver's head. The hair was thick, surprisingly soft. Frank found himself pushing it back before he remembered what he was supposed to be doing and found Oliver's scalp with gentle fingers. It didn't take him long to find what Oliver was talking about. In fact, it was difficult to miss, and Frank was surprised by the extent of the rough patches of skin beneath his fingers as he traced the lines. One was crooked, jagged and rough. Others were more precise, and if a doctor had been responsible for them, Frank was certain that it had been from more than one surgery.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," Frank said, before he could stop himself. He heard pity in his own voice, and was almost afraid to meet Oliver's eyes to find out what he thought of that. But, Oliver only seemed unexpectedly amused as he leaned his head heavier into Frank's palm, much like those cats liked to do when they got his attention, Frank thought. Instead of finding it unusual, however, Frank continued moving his fingers over Oliver's scalp, nearly expecting the other boy to start purring. It was when Frank's eyes fell to some of the shadows over Oliver's face and brushed his thumb over one, that Oliver suddenly flinched and pulled back. Frank lowered his hand slowly, not willing to let go of the other boy's eyes as they faced him somewhat accusingly. "I don't know what you remember, Oliver," Frank said, "but I think something happened to you."

Oliver frowned, and for a moment, Frank thought he was going to say something defensive. But instead, it was a look of extreme concentration that crossed his face as he lifted his hand to his face, gingerly touching at sore places.

"Oliver, what's the last thing you remember before..." Frank paused when the sound of slowly falling raindrops outside was interrupted by a purring engine and tires moving over wet gravel. He stood, moving to his window long enough to look out to the driveway. There was a yellow truck pulling up against the side of the house, and having never seen it before, Frank watched curiously, wondering who was visiting. But, as his eyes focused on the image through the glass of the front windshield, it became all too apparent that this visitor wasn't one he currently wanted to welcome into his home, if Oliver's mother sitting in the passenger side of the bench seat was any indication. It wasn't her that worried Frank, though. It was the large man behind the steering wheel, currently unfastening his seat belt.

It didn't occur to Frank to think through his next actions as he spun away from the window and approached Oliver hurriedly. "We have to go," he stated.

"Where are we going, Frank?" Oliver asked, obviously startled by his host's abruptness.

"For a walk, I could use some fresh air," Frank said as he grabbed Oliver's hand and practically yanked him off the bed and out the bedroom door. "Couldn't you?"

"It's raining, Frank."

"That's okay. Come on, I've got a jacket you can borrow." Frank rushed Oliver down the narrow hallway and to the back door, where he was quick about grabbing his only hooded jacket out of the closet and shoving it at Oliver. "Put it on, I'll be right back."

"But what're you gonna wear?" Oliver wanted to know.

Frank smiled as reassuring of a smile as he could. "I'll be fine," he insisted, but didn't feel that way when the sound of someone rapping on the door echoed through the house, over Rudy's music.

"I think someone's knocking on your door, Frank," Oliver observed as he pulled on the jacket.

"It's probably just the wind," Frank said, earning himself a strange look from Oliver as he headed towards the living room. "I'll be right back."

Frank reached the front door just in time to keep his sister from answering it. He grabbed her tiny wrist and yanked her back, provoking a startled gasp from the girl that he simply didn't have time to pay attention to. "Don't answer that!" he hissed.

Rudy pulled her arm away from him, looking irritated. "Why not--hey! Frank!" He'd wrapped an arm around her waist, and with no explanation Frank had lifted Rudy's feet right off the ground to rush her to the back door.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Oliver's parents are here," he said hastily. He was better off simply telling her. If she started asking questions, Frank didn't see how that would help anyone.

"Then shouldn't we tell Oliver..."

"No!" Frank stated, and put her down before they reached the kitchen to place his hands on her shoulders and look her in the eye. "Rudy, we've gotta keep them away from him until Mom gets home, okay?"

Rudy looked confused, but not one to argue when her young mind sensed a serious situation, she simply nodded, and they both looked towards the front door when the knocking only got louder. Frank frowned. He was certain that Oliver's parents could hear Rudy's music, and they likely suspected that someone was home. He didn't know if they'd have the nerve to let themselves in, and he didn't want to stick around to find out. He ushered Rudy into the kitchen, where Oliver was still waiting by the door, having trouble with the zipper on Frank's jacket.

"Get your coat on, Rudy," Frank ordered, even as he lifted his sister's coat for her and wrapped it around her shoulders. As Rudy pushed her arms through the sleeves, Frank turned to Oliver and zipped up the coat for him after a few good tugs. Oliver's brows raised in response. He didn't seem to understand what the big hurry was supposed to be about, but he didn't really complain when Frank practically pushed him and Rudy through the door.

"I really think someone's knocking," Oliver said, looking back as Frank closed up the house.

"So they'll come back, later," Frank said, ducking his head, as if it would defend him from the raindrops now wetting his face and hair. "Let's go this way. I haven't been this way before."

Rudy looked disgruntled as she held her jacket closed, but rushed to hold onto Frank's hand as he led the way away from the house, making sure to avoid the yellow truck parked alongside the house, and Oliver followed behind them, seeming alright with the entire situation.

That was good, Frank decided. All he wanted to do was get Oliver out of sight. Maybe it was unjustified. Maybe he was overreacting in the stupidest way possible, but he wasn't going to feel better until his mom arrived home and figured out what was going on for him. Until then, he simply didn't trust Oliver's parents. But, Frank was so focused on getting Oliver out of sight as they headed straight into the woods and up the hill that he'd completely forgotten that he was also attempting to prevent Oliver from seeing the elder Martins. Which incidentally, didn't work out so well.

Rudy had slipped in the mud, and after catching her, Frank had decided to carry her on his back. She was still small for her age, but recently she'd grown past the point of being able to ride on his shoulders. Either way, he didn't mind since she gave him a little extra cover. He felt like he was getting rained on twice, first from the water falling from the sky, and then the drops falling from the trees. He stared at his feet as he trekked uphill, unable to wipe the water running down his forehead and into his eyes while he carried his sister. He was so focused on distancing them all from the house and the road that he didn't notice that Oliver was no longer on his heels until Rudy insistently patted his shoulder.

"Frank! Frank, look."

Frank stopped, turned around, and froze when he realized that straight through the trees back behind him, the entire side of his house, along with the yellow truck, was visible. Oliver's parents had come around the corner, and were talking in front of the vehicle, and not far off but still hidden, Oliver stood watching them. Frank put Rudy down and took a step forward, wanting to call out to Oliver, but was afraid he'd be heard. And then he didn't have to call out.

Oliver suddenly looked in Frank's direction, and their eyes met, but for Frank, he was facing something unreadable. There was no crooked smile on Oliver's face, but there was no sign of confusion or anger, either. Frank felt like he was being watched like someone who'd been caught in a lie. Perhaps that's exactly what he was. Oliver was insistent that his parents would never harm him, so Frank worried how he'd react when he figured out what Frank was doing. But when realization did seem to come over Oliver, he didn't seem displeased at all. Just understanding. And better yet, he didn't call out to his parents.

Frank released a breath when Oliver slowly backed away from where he stood, and when he reached Frank and Rudy, all three of them moved out of sight together. They continued on silently for a while. Frank didn't know where they were going once he couldn't see his house anymore, but Oliver picked up the lead then, and Frank trusted that he knew the area well enough not to get them lost. At least, he hoped that was the case, since he was beginning to regret not wearing a jacket. The rain slowed to a drizzle, and then died completely, but his clothes were wet now, and he was cold. Rudy at least seemed comfortable as she moved ahead of them every time she saw a squirrel.

With Oliver, Frank couldn't tell how comfortable he was. It was hard to, when he suddenly felt like he needed to avoid Oliver's eyes. It felt to Frank as if something uncomfortable was passing between them. He didn't know if Oliver felt it, too, but Frank could definitely feel the other boy's eyes glancing in his direction every so often. And they kept moving closer together, side by side, step for step. Frank didn't know if it happened naturally, or intentionally, but the closer Oliver got, the more difficult the continuing silence became to Frank. Even Rudy was silent as she walked on her own.

"I'm sorry, Oliver," Frank finally said. "I didn't want them to take you home yet. I should have told you."

Oliver didn't initially respond, causing Frank to look worriedly in his direction, but it was only to find that Oliver was removing the borrowed jacket, and before Frank could ask him what he was doing, his was placing the warm material over Frank's shoulders.

"I didn't want to go with them, Frank."

Frank sighed. "Listen, Oliver, no matter what happens, I won't let you get in trouble. I'll say it's my fault, and I'll ask my mom to talk to them. She'll..."

"They don't like to listen, Frank. They say it's bad for me to leave. I don't want to make them angry... but my mom always says, going out is getting in trouble."

"That's not right, though," Frank insisted. "It's not fair that you can't do things just because... it's not right, Oliver."

"David says that," Oliver replied. "David's always in trouble. He makes my mom and dad angry."

"Why? Because he likes to go outside?" Frank asked, feeling disgusted.

"No, Frank. I think he likes it."

"What? You mean, getting in trouble?"

Oliver nodded. "David gets angry, too. He's always angry, Frank."

"With you?"

Oliver considered the question, and then shook his head. "No. He's my brother, Frank. But he doesn't like my mom or my dad. He likes to make them angry."