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“I have my ways. ”
I look at him.
“Okay, okay. It took three emails and five phone calls, but now I have the number. ” He looks over at me. “That is to say, it wasn’t all that hard to find with a little effort. ”
I nod. I know what he is telling me. The Mogadorians would have found it just as easily as he did. Which means, of course, that the scale now tips in favor of Henri’s second possibility—that somebody got to the publisher before the story further developed.
“How far away is Athens?”
“Two hours by car. ”
“Are you going?”
“I hope not. I’m going to call first. ”
When we get home Henri immediately picks up the phone and sits at the kitchen table. I sit down across from him and listen.
“Yes, I’m calling to inquire about an article in last month’s issue of They Walk Among Us. ”
A deep voice responds on the other end. I can’t hear what is said.
Henri smiles. “Yes,” he says, then pauses.
“No, I’m not a subscriber. But a friend of mine is. ”
Another pause. “No, thank you. ”
He nods his head.
“Well, I’m curious about the article written on the Mogadorians. There was never a follow-up in this month’s issue as expected. ”
I lean in and strain to hear, my body tense and rigid. When the reply comes the voice sounds shaken, disturbed. Then the phone goes dead.
“Hello?”
Henri pulls the phone away from his ear, looks at it, then brings it back in.
“Hello?” he says again.
Then he closes the phone and sets it on the table. He looks at me.
“He said, ‘Don’t call here again. ’ Then he hung up on me. ”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AFTER DEBATING IT FOR SEVERAL HOURS, Henri wakes up the next morning and prints door-to-door directions from here to Athens, Ohio. He tells me he’ll be home early enough so we can go to Thanksgiving dinner at Sarah’s house, and he hands me a slip of paper with the address and the phone number of where he’s going.
“Are you sure this is worth it?” I ask.
“We have to figure out what’s going on. ”
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I sigh. “I think we both know what is going on. ”
“Maybe,” he says, but with full authority and none of the uncertainty usually accompanying the word.
“You do realize what you would tell me if the roles were reversed, right?”
Henri smiles. “Yes, John. I know what I would say. But I think this will help us. I want to find out what they have done to scare this man so badly. I want to know if they have mentioned us, if they are searching for us by means that we haven’t yet thought of. It will help us to stay hidden, stay ahead of them. And if this man has seen them, we’ll learn what they look like. ”
“We already know what they look like. ”
“We knew what they looked like when they attacked, over ten years ago, but they might have changed. They’ve been on Earth a long time now. I want to know how they’re blending in. ”
“Even if we know what they look like, by the time we see them on the street, it’s probably going to be too late. ”
“Maybe, maybe not. I see one, I’m going to try and kill it. There’s no guarantee it’s going to be able to kill me,” he says, this time with the uncertainty and none of the authority.
I give up. I don’t like a single thing about him driving to Athens while I sit around at home. But I know my objections will continue to fall on deaf ears.
“You sure you’ll be back on time?” I ask.
“I’m leaving now, which puts me there about nine. I doubt I’ll stay more than an hour, two at the most. I should be back by one. ”
“So why do I have this?” I ask, and hold up the slip of paper with the address and phone number.
He shrugs. “Well, you never know. ”
“Which is precisely why I don’t think you should go. ”
“Touché,” he says, bringing an end to the discussion. He gathers his papers, stands from the table, and pushes in the chair.
“I’ll see you this afternoon. ”
“Okay,” I say.
He walks out to the truck and gets inside. Bernie Kosar and I walk out to the front porch and watch him drive away. I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling. I hope he makes it back.
It’s a long day. One of those days where time slows down and every minute seems like ten, every hour seems like twenty. I play video games and surf the internet. I look for news that might be related to one of the other children. I don’t find anything, which makes me happy. That means we’re staying under the radar. Avoiding our enemies.
I periodically check my phone. I send a text message to Henri at noon. He doesn’t reply. I eat lunch and feed Bernie, and then I send another. No reply. A nervous, unsettled feeling creeps in. Henri has never failed to text back immediately. Maybe his phone is off. Maybe his battery has died. I try to convince myself of these possibilities, but I know that neither of them is true.
At two o’clock I start to get worried. Really worried. We’re supposed to be at the Harts’ in an hour. Henri knows the dinner is important to me. And he would never blow it off. I get in the shower with the hope that by the time I get out, Henri will be sitting at our kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. I turn the hot water all the way up and don’t bother with the cold at all. I don’t feel a thing. My entire body is now impervious to heat. It feels like lukewarm water is streaming over my skin, and I actually miss the feeling of heat. I used to love taking hot showers. Standing under the water for as long as it lasted. Closing my eyes and enjoying the water hitting my head and running down. It took me away from my life. It let me forget about who and what I am for a little while.
