Page 5

"I don't know. I swear to God I don't know, that's what the paper's for. I don't get the name till I get the paper. He was supposed to bring it tonight. He didn't come."

"The Price girl. Delilah."

His face does something at the name. Not guilt. Recognition, and then a kind of tired irritation, like somebody's brought up a chore he already did.

"That was last month," he says. "That's done. That was… That wasn't a gathering, that was a problem. Judah said she was a problem. Asking about her mama. Going through records. He said do it early, do it quiet, so we did it early and quietly and Marsh signed the paper and that's done, that's finished. Why are you⁠—"

"Who did it?"

"I just held her."

"Who did it, Marcus?"

"Malcolm. Malcolm did it. His daddy said it was time he learned. He did it, and it took a long time because he didn't know what he was doing." He's talking fast now, spilling, because he's figured out that talking is the only thing keeping my knee where it is. "Landry drove. I held her arms. Malcolm did the—he did it. Then we hung her from the closet rod, and Marsh came, and it was done. She's done. That's not what tonight's for. Tonight's for the… for Halloween. For the real one."

"Tell me about the real one."

He looks at me like I've asked him to explain the weather. Like I ought to know. Like I was there.

I was there. Nine years running, I was there. I was the one who waited by the gates.

"Same as always," he says. "Gathering starts at dark. Bonfires, singing, the whole parish comes out. Round about eleven, Judah gives the nod and somebody goes up the hill and opens the gates and the basin starts filling. Takes half an hour to get good and deep. Girl's already been walked out to the far end by then, she's been told it's part of the service, she's got her candle. Then the men put the masks on and go out after her, and she runs, because they always run, and the water's up to her waist by then and it's dark and she's slow. Then it's done. Then the gates close and the water goes down and by morning there's nothing but mud and everybody goes home."

He says it the way you'd give directions to the interstate.

"And this year?"

"Same."

"You're setting up early."

"Judah said…" He stops.

I put my thumb on the inside of his wrist, on the tendon, and I press until his eyes water and his mouth opens. "Judah said what?"

"He said things were loose. He said somebody's been talking, and it's making people nervous. He wants it done clean and he wants it done big. He said this year's not one girl. He said… he said this year we do the whole list."

The whole list.

I don't let anything happen on my face. I learned that here too.

"How many on the list?"

"I don't know. Douglas has it. I told you. Douglas has the paper and Douglas didn't come. He said tomorrow, he's gonna bring it tomorrow, I'll get it for you. I swear to God I'll get it for you, you can have all of it, just⁠—"

"And this year's girl? The first one. The one who's already been picked."

He goes quiet.

"Marcus."

"He said not to say."

"Marcus."

"He said Charlotte's got a special one this year. He said it was already handled. He said she'd walk right in on her own, and we wouldn't even have to bring her. That's all I know, I don't know a name, I don't⁠—"

There's a sound outside.