Stranger in the Moonlight (Edilean 7)

“That’s my book,” she yelled at him. “And it’s my tree. You have no right to them.” She grabbed another clod and threw it at him. It would have hit him in the face but he moved sideways and it missed.

Kim had had a lot of experience with older boys and she knew that they got you back. It didn’t take much to set them off, then you were in for it. They’d chase you, catch you, and pin your arm behind your back or pull your hair until you begged for mercy.

When she saw the boy make a move as though he meant to get down, Kim took off running as fast as she could. Maybe there’d be enough time that she could reach what she knew was a great hiding place. She wedged her small body in between two piles of old bricks, crouched down, and waited for the boy to come after her.

After what seemed like an hour of waiting, he didn’t show up, and her legs began to ache. Cautiously and quietly, she got out from the bricks and looked around. She fully expected him to leap out from behind a tree, yell “I got you!” then bombard her with dirt.

But nothing happened. The big garden was as still and quiet as always and there was no sign of the boy.

She ran behind a tree, waited and listened, but she heard and saw nothing. She ran to another tree and waited. Nothing. It took her a long time before she got back to “her” tree, and what she saw astonished her.

Standing on the ground, just under her branch, was the boy. He was holding the book under his arm and seemed to be waiting.

Was this some new boy trap that she’d never seen before? she wondered. Is this what foreign boys—meaning ones not from Edilean—did to girls who threw dirt at them? If she walked up to him, would he clobber her?

As she watched him, she must have made a sound because he turned and looked at her.

Kim jumped behind a tree, ready to protect herself from whatever came flying, but nothing did. After a few moments she decided to stop being a scaredy-cat and stepped out into the open.

Slowly, the boy started walking toward her, and Kim got ready to run. She knew not to let boys she’d thrown things at get too close. They prided themselves on the quickness of their throwing arms.

She held her breath when he got close enough that she knew she’d not be able to get away.

“I’m sorry I took your book,” he said softly. “Mr. Bertrand lent it to me, so I didn’t know it belonged to anyone else. And I didn’t know about the tree being yours either. I apologize.”

She was so astonished she couldn’t speak. Her mother said that males didn’t know the meaning of the word sorry. But this one did. She took the book he was holding out to her and watched as he turned away and started back toward the house.

He was halfway there before she could move. “Wait!” she called out and was shocked when he stopped walking. None of her boy cousins ever obeyed her.

She walked up to him, the book firmly clutched against her chest. “Who are you?” she asked. If he’d said he was a visitor from another planet, she wouldn’t have been surprised.

“Travis . . . Merritt,” he said. “My mother and I arrived late last night. Who are you?”

“Kimberly Aldredge. My mother and I are staying in there”—she pointed—“while my father and brother go fishing in Montana.”

He gave a nod, as though what she’d said was very important. “My mother and I are staying there.” He pointed to the apartment on the other side of the big house. “My father is in Tokyo.”

Kim had never heard of the place. “Do you live near here?”

“Not in this state, no.”

She was staring at him and thinking that he was very much like a doll, as he didn’t smile or even move very much.

“I like the book,” he said. “I’ve never read anything like it before.”

In her experience she didn’t know boys read anything they didn’t have to. Except her cousin Tris, but then he only read about sick people, so that didn’t count. “What do you read?” she asked.

“Textbooks.”

She waited for him to add to that list, but he just stood there in silence. “What do you read for fun?”

He gave a slight frown. “I rather like the science textbooks.”

“Oh,” she said.

He seemed to realize that he needed to say more. “My father says that my education is very important, and my tutor—”

“What’s that?”