It was a hand-crank number, and as he squeezed it to life,
he pointed it at Marci, her face wan and scared in its light. He gave
the flashlight a few more pumps to get its flywheel spinning, then
passed it to her.
"Just keep squeezing it," he said. "It doesn't need batteries." He took
her hand again. It was limp.
"You can put your things on the pile," he said, pointing to the coats
and boots. He was already shucking his hat and mittens and boots and
snow pants and coat. His skin flushed with the warm vapors coming off of
the sulfur spring.
"You *live* here?" she said. The light from the flashlight was dimming
and he reached over and gave it a couple of squeezes, then handed it
back to her.
"I live here. It's complicated."
Davey's eyes were open and he was staring at them with squinted eyes and
a frown.
"Where are your parents?" she said.
"It's complicated," he said again, as though that explained
everything. "This is my secret. No one else knows it."
Edward-Frederick-George tottered over to them with an armload of toy
cars, which he mutely offered to Marci, smiling a drooly smile. Alan
patted him on the head and knelt down. "I don't think Marci wants to
play cars, okay?" Ed nodded solemnly and went back to the edge of the
pool and began running his cars through the nearly scalding water.
Marci reached out a hand ahead of her into the weak light, looked at the
crazy shadows it cast on the distant walls.
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