Keisha felt more tired now than she had felt all day. “He was . . . stabbed.”
“So she’s trying to find out who stabbed him?”
Keisha sat on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on her son’s knee. “Yes, that’s what she’s trying to do.”
“So there’s like a crazy person running around stabbing people?” he asked, but more excited than fearful.
“No, not a crazy person,” Keisha said. “It may even be that this man who died was the bad person, and that whoever stabbed him had a reason. Like, to protect herself.” She paused, and added, “Or himself.”
“Oh, yeah, like, self-defense.” Matthew watched his share of crime shows.
“Could be,” Keisha said. “Let me ask you something.”
Matthew put aside his video game. “What?”
“Winters here are pretty cold and miserable. How would you feel about maybe spending some time in California?”
“You mean, like, in San Francisco? With your cousin?”
“I haven’t asked her about it, but yeah, that was kind of what I was thinking.”
“When would we go?”
Keisha touched the side of his head gently. “I was thinking it would be a trip just for you. You being ten, and all, you’re getting to be a young man. It’d be a chance for you to fly all by yourself.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to go by myself. Except maybe for a weekend or something.”
Keisha thought, how about five to ten years?
“I’m not exactly Caroline’s favorite cousin in the world, but she loves you, and would be very happy to see you. She’d probably be even happier if I stayed here.”
“Why doesn’t she like you?” Matthew asked.
Keisha smiled sadly. “I think she likes me okay. She’s just disappointed in me. Sometimes I’m a little disappointed in me too.”
“I’m not disappointed in you,” Matthew said. “But I hate Kirk.”
Keisha nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Listen, we can talk about that later, but right now, I need you to scoot. Why don’t you go hang out with Brendan?”
“I guess. Why do I have to go?”
“I may have to talk to the police lady again, and I don’t think she likes to talk about police business in front of kids.”
“Oh.”
“And I want you to go out the back way.”
“Why?”
“She’s out front right now, talking to Kirk, and I don’t think she’d want you interrupting them.”
“Is Kirk in trouble?” the boy asked hopefully.
“I—I don’t think so.”
Matthew frowned. “I was hoping maybe he was the stabber, that they’d take him away.”
“Oh, baby.”
“Is he always going to live with us?’
“Matthew, I don’t even know what’s going to happen an hour from now.”
“Do you love him?” Matthew asked.
“Love Kirk?”
He nodded.
“I thought I did, when I first met him, when he was different. But no, not any more. Why?”
“I was worried you loved him more than me.”
“What?” she said, wrapping her arms around the boy and squeezing. “How could you even ask such a thing?” She could feel him shrug, trapped in her embrace. “No, come on, I want an answer.” She released him, put a finger under his chin and propped his head up so he’d have to look her in the eye. “Why would you say that?”
“Something Kirk told me.”
“What’d he say?”
“He said I wasn’t supposed to know, so I couldn’t talk about it, especially to you.”
“Matt, listen to me. You can tell me anything. You know that.”
“It’s just, when you said I might be going to California, I thought maybe that’s where the military school is.” The boy looked like he was trying very hard to hold back tears.
“What military school? You’re ten years old, for God’s sake.”
“Kirk said they have one for kids like me, and if I didn’t stop, you know, messing up around here, and touching his wheels, and getting in the way, he said you were going to send me away to that school.”
“He said what?”
“He said if I settled down you’d probably forget about it, so that’s why I’ve been staying in my room a lot so I won’t be in the way because I really don’t want to go to that school and learn how to fight and kill people and stuff.”
“That son of a bitch,” she said under her breath, but still not caring if Matthew heard.
“So that’s not why you want me to go stay with your cousin?”
“Look at me. If I have to send you out there, it won’t be because you did anything wrong, or that you’re going to a military academy, and it won’t mean I don’t love you.”
“So there’s no military school?”
“There’s no military school.”
Matthew cracked a smile. “Are you crying, Mom?”
“Maybe a little.”
“I think I’m going to, too. But I’m happy.”
“Look, just give me a hug, and then get the hell out of here, okay?”
The boy and his mother threw their arms around one another again. Then he grabbed his coat and disappeared out the back door of the house, hopped the fence, and was gone.