Stranger in the Moonlight (Edilean 7)

“The man who teaches me.”

“Oh,” she said again, but had no idea what he was talking about.

“I am homeschooled,” he said. “I go to school inside my father’s house.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Kim said.

For the first time, he gave a bit of a smile. “I can attest that it is no fun whatever.”

Kim didn’t know what attest meant, but she could guess. “I’m good at having fun,” she said in her most adult voice. “Would you like me to show you how?”

“I’d like that very much,” he said. “Where do we begin?”

She thought for a moment. “There’s a big pile of dirt in the back. I’ll show you how to ride my bike up it then race down. You can stick your hands and feet straight out. Come on!” she yelled and started running.

But a moment later she looked back and he wasn’t there. She backtracked and he was standing just where she’d left him. “Are you afraid?” she asked tauntingly.

“I don’t think so, but I’ve never ridden a bicycle before, and I think you’re too young to teach me.”

She didn’t like being told she was “too young” to do anything. Now he was sounding like a boy. “Nobody teaches you how to ride a bike,” she said, knowing she was lying. Her dad had spent days holding her bike while she learned to balance.

“All right,” he said solemnly. “I’ll try it.”

The bike was too short for him and the first time he got on it, he fell off and landed on his face. He got up, spitting dirt out of his mouth, and Kim watched him. Was he one of those boys who’d go crying to his mother?

Instead, he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then gave a grin that nearly split his face in half. “Huzzah!” he said and got back on the bike.

By lunchtime he was riding down the hill faster than Kim had ever dared, and he jerked the front wheel upward, as though he were going over a jump.

“How’d I do?” he asked Kim after his fastest slide down the dirt hill. He didn’t look like the same boy she’d first seen. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, and he was filthy from head to toe. There was a bruise forming on his cheek where he’d nearly crashed into a tree, but he’d pulled to the left and only grazed it. Even his teeth were dirty.

Before Kim could answer, he looked over her head and stiffened into the boy she’d first seen. “Mother,” he said.

Kim turned to see a small woman standing there. She was pretty in a motherly sort of way, but whereas Travis had pink in his cheeks, she had none. She was like a washed-out, older, female version of him.

Without saying a word, she walked to stand between the two children and looked her son up and down.

Kim held her breath. If the woman told Kim’s mom that she’d made Travis dirty, Kim would be punished.

“You taught him to ride a bike?” Mrs. Merritt asked her.

Travis stepped in front of Kim, as though to protect her. “Mother, she’s just a little girl. I taught myself to ride. I’ll go and wash.” He took a step toward the house.

“No!” Mrs. Merritt said, and he looked back at her. She went to him and put her arms around him. “I’ve never seen you look better.” She kissed his cheek then smiled as she wiped dirt off her lips. She turned to Kim. “You, young lady . . .” she began, but stopped. Bending, she hugged Kim. “You are a truly marvelous child. Than

k you!”

Kim looked up at the woman in wonder.

“You kids go back to playing. How about if I bring a picnic lunch out here for you two? Do you like chocolate cake?”

“Yes,” Kim said.

Mrs. Merritt took two steps toward the house before Kim called out, “He needs his own bike.”

Mrs. Merritt looked back, and Kim swallowed. She’d never before given an adult an order. “He . . .” Kim said more quietly. “My bike is too small for him. His feet drag.”

“What else does he need?” Mrs. Merritt asked.