Page 19 of Hilarina and the Ogre

But Trenton never answered his questions.

They read until the second bell, and Hilary was surprised at that. That a boy as conscientious as Trenton would risk being late. Ms. Elwin followed right behind the door Trenton held open for her.

It was boring as it always was. Maybe even more so than usual. Trenton didn’t bother with the lessons, opening his book before he’d even settled into his seat. After watching the boy read blissfully for a while and growing increasingly bored, Hilary took out the Mary Oliver book and was immediately called out for it.

“Care to join us, Mr. Davis?”

Not really, but something like that was impossible to say for a weenie like him. So he shut the book and went back to drawing geometric patterns in his notebook.

“How come you get away with it?” was his accusation to Trenton as soon as the lunch bell rang.

The boy pushed a container of cantaloupe Hilary’s way, a supplement to his lunch. “I didn’t. Not at first.”

“How long did it take before they accepted it?”

“About four years.”

“Who has that kind of patience?”

“It was an investment.”

“Investment, my ass. When did you start training the teachers?”

“Pre-K.”

The story Trenton told was equal parts sad and cute. Apparently, the little ogre baby used to camp out in the reading corner of his pre-k classroom and only come out for lunch and snack time. “Do you have pictures?”

Trenton shook his head.

“So they let you get away with ignoring all the other classroom shit?” Hilary asked.

“I was a hefty kid. Difficult to move.”

The thought made Hilary laugh. It was an image of a taciturn butterball dragged to the class circle to sing the wheels on the bus.

“How’d you learn to read so young?” Hilary asked next.

“I don’t really remember. It just happened.”

“Says the genius.”

“So you call me, but I couldn’t tie my shoes until the third grade.”

“Selective genius.”

It seemed Baby-Trenton continued to read, though after being caught trying to take books home with him multiple times, he was forced to come up with other plans. That was how he found the library. It had taken the baby ogre several hours of asking directions from strangers until a woman brought him there, a little worried about a four-year-old out exploring the world on his own.

“I wasn’t allowed to bring books home from there either,” Trenton said. “Because you needed a parent to get you a library card. But then Ms. Sally let me use her own account to keep from having to fight me at closing every night.”

“And your parents were cool with you wandering around town as a baby?”

“I wasn’t wandering. I was in the library.”

That smacked too much of avoidance to let the boy get away with. “Trent.”

Trenton grinned, the flash of it like lightning cutting into his face. “Hil.”

Almost, Hilary forgot his question. He scowled, but let the stupid nickname go. “Your parents?”