Bone Deep Read Free

none. “Can you speak?”
    “Yes.” It was a quiet murmur, but so deep it seemed to reverberate through the loft.
    She was relieved. She ’d been afraid if he wasn’t mute he might be so mentally defici ent he couldn’t understand her.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked again .
    “Sleeping.”
    “You’ve left the carnival? Why?” Escaped , her mind whispered.
    He remained silent, but his gaze continued to lock onto hers. His eyes were the saddest she’d ever seen. She clenched her hands. Logic told her to dive for the pitchfork or run for the ladder, but his demeanor was non-threatening. She couldn’t believe this man was dangerous.
    “Did they mistreat you there?” She felt foolish asking. He was a grown man who ’ d probably chosen to leave unsatisfactory employment , s o w hy did she have images of cages and beatings in her mind ?
    His jaw tightened, making the blue swirls undulate and , almost imperceptibly, he inclined his head.
    “Oh . ” Her eyes widened as a thought struck. “Will they come looking for you?”
    “Maybe.”
    She moved toward him. “We should go to the police.”
    He shook his head, backing up a step. “No.”
    “But were you held against your will? For how long?”
    “Always.”
    “Always.” She repeated, trying to comprehend it. “Always? You were raised there?”
    “Yes.”
    “ Good God.” Sarah had no idea what to say or do next so she said the first thing that popped into her mind, the easy way to make things better. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? Come to the house and I’ll make you breakfast.”
    He nodded.
    As she climbed down the ladder, Sarah realized she had just invited this stranger into her ho m e. But the idea of this meek man attempting to hurt her seemed ridiculous . She was struck by the strangeness of the situation . People supposedly ran away to j oin the circus . W ho could imagine a real-life circumstance where someone would be running from it ?
    The man climbed silently and gracefully down the ladder. As she waited for him at the bottom, she noticed how worn the soles of his shoes were and how threadbare his pants and jacket. He looked like a well-used scarecrow.
    They walked across the yard together, and s he watched him from the corner of her eye, fascinated by the flame s that followed the line of his jaw.
    He glanced over and his eyes met hers. Sarah quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught star ing. She opened the back door and scraped her feet off on the mat in the mud room before going inside. She took off her coat and hung it on the hook before she realized the man hadn’t followed her. He stood on the bottom step, waiting.
    She reached out a hand as if coaxing a wild animal. “It’s all right. You can c ome in.”
    He brushed at the hay clinging to his coat and looked down at his muddy shoes.
    “ Take off your coat and hang it , a nd you can leave your shoes in the entry.”
    Slowly he walked up the steps, unbuttoning and removing the coat. The long-sleeved, blue cotton shirt he wore underneath was thin with age and ripped at several of the seams . Sarah caught a glimpse of bright colored skin through the gaps in the fabric before she ushered him into the kitchen.
    “Please, sit down.” She indicated the metal kitchen table covered by a red-flowered oilcloth . M atching metal chairs upholstered in faded red vinyl were gathered around it . Chairs she’d once hoped would be filled by children, but which would continue to remain empty now.
    “Eggs and bacon?” She pulled a skillet from the cupboard and set it on the stove.
    The silence as she moved around the kitchen preparing breakfast was awkward. She wished her guest would say something — anything. She laid bacon in the skillet.
    As it started to sizzle, she leaned against the counter, arms folded , and looked at the stranger . “What’s your name?”
    He ’ d been staring at the floor , and looked up as if startled to be addressed. Again she was