“When I was in college, I saw a plan for a building a lot like this one,” he said.
“Do you think they stole the idea?”
“I don’t know.”
Sara wanted to kick him because she was sure he was keeping something from her. But in the next moment they heard a shot and in an instant, R.J. had pushed Sara to the ground again. “Don’t be scared,” said a small voice from beside them.
They turned and saw two children, a boy and a girl, standing there. They were both about four years old, had brown curly hair, and, despite being grubby from head to toe, were two of the loveliest children Sara had ever seen. They didn’t look as though they could possibly be the product of a union of Fenny Nezbit and his sun-wrinkled wife.
Chapter Thirteen
“ARE YOU NEZBIT CHILDREN?” SARA asked, standing up slowly so as not to frighten them, but they didn’t look scared. Whoever had fired the shot hadn’t frightened them.
The girl nodded.
“Do you have a gun?” R.J. asked.
Sara started to tell him not to be absurd, but the children giggled. They were very dirty, their pretty faces darkened with what looked like weeks of not bathing. Their clothes were raggedy and drab-colored. Their feet were bare, calloused, and ingrained with grime.
“You didn’t think we were elephants and you took a shot at us, did you?” R.J. asked and the children giggled more.
She’d never seen R.J. around children before, and she smiled.
“So who did fire that shot?” he asked.
“Gideon,” the boy said. “For rabbits.”
“For supper,” the girl said.
“You don’t eat what your mother gets at the grocery?” Sara asked.
“Sometimes,” the little girl said, then in the next minute, they ran off into the woods.
“Rabbits for dinner,” Sara said. “They’re living wild.”
“I’m not so sure.” R.J. turned back to look at the house. “Shall we go down and meet the rest of the family?”
“Only if we must,” Sara said, but she followed him down the path to the front of the house.
When they got to the bottom of the hill, they saw that the house was in need of repair. But in spite of gutters hanging down, cobwebs as big as towels, and piles of trash, underneath it all, the house was beautiful. “With some paint …” Sara began.
“And a crew of carpenters,” R.J. said as he knocked on the front door.
In a few seconds it was opened by a girl, about twelve, who was obviously Fenny Nezbit’s daughter. She was as skinny as her parents, and she had ears that stuck straight out, parting her lank, blonde hair on both sides. Her nose was long, her eyes drooped at the corners, and her mouth was in what looked to be a perpetual downward bend.
“You the baby-sitter?” the girl asked in a voice that said she knew all about everything and was sick of it all.
“I guess so,” Sara said tentatively and glanced at R.J. She’d really like to know how information traveled so quickly around the island.
“Then come in,” the girl said, “but don’t touch anything. My dad finds out you stole anything and he’ll get you in court.”
Behind the girl’s back, R.J. raised his eyebrows.
Inside, the house was cool and shady, enough so that Sara didn’t think there was any need for an air conditioner. As they followed the girl to the back of the house, they looked around. To the left was a big living room, with worn furniture facing an enormous TV that must have cost thousands. A stereo with speakers that a rock band would envy was on the wall opposite the big windows. On the back wall was a built-in cabinet with glass shelves. It looked as though it hadn’t been dusted in years, but it held porcelain flowers that Sara knew were expensive. In the corners she saw stacks of boxes with the names of the TV shopping channels. It didn’t look as though the boxes had been opened.
When Sara nudged R.J. to look at them, he nodded toward the right and she looked toward a hallway that contained more unopened boxes. At the end of the hall was an open door and inside was a huge bed that looked as though it was carved into the shape of a shell. It wasn’t to Sara’s taste, but she recognized that it cost a lot of money.
When the girl stopped, they were in the kitchen. Before them, sitting at a small round table, were two more girls who looked just like the first one: stringy hair, skinny bodies, ears sticking out. They looked up at Sara and R.J. without curiosity, then down again at their empty plates.