Page 120 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

“You make another few batches and me and your dad can hawk them for you,” she said. “I want you to have a bit more cash in your pocket this time of year.”

Is that all right?

Fine.

“Okay, I’ll have them done by Friday.”

“Do some with nuts.” Mrs. Brown squeezed his shoulder, then went into the living room to watch TV.

Hollis washed the dishes, even though he knew they could wait, then they went upstairs to talk.

Pygmalion and Galatea

Walt slid down Hollis’s bedroom door to sit on the ground. They pulled out the picture of Walt’s face that Yulia had printed and cut out for them in the library.

What are you thinking about?

You. You were very brave today.

That’s all you’ve got to say about it? Second-worst day of my life.

Hollis smirked.

You don’t mean that. Besides, there’s still time left.

He traced the edges of the photograph, then folded it up and put it in their wallet.

Walt was still nervous, Hollis could feel it rolling around in their chest.

Calm down, it’s fine.

I can’t. Sorry. I’m trying.

Hollis sighed. He stood up and turned on the lamp by his bed. He closed the shades, ran a finger down them so there were no more gaps. Then he locked their bedroom door.

What are you doing?

Hollis sat on the edge of their bed and took off his socks. Took off his watch and belt, put their phone on the nightstand. Then he went to stand in front of their full-length mirror.

Hollis had never liked what he looked like.

He tried not to think about it most days. Even after Walt blew in and made a bunch of nonconsensual changes, Hollis still felt apathetic about the whole thing. But this was different, it wasn’t about him.

He peeled off his sweater and stood there in his T-shirt and jeans.

Hollis, you don’t have to—

It’s time, I think.

Hollis tugged his shirt over his head, unbuttoned his jeans and the rest, and threw it in a pile by the bed. The way he knew Walt hated, did it that way just to make Walt angrier than he was scared.

Hollis pushed all the opinions he’d gathered about himself away until their head was silent. Then he tucked himself in deep inside, pulled himself back to the place he’d been trapped in on the first night they met. Sitting in a prison in his face, a witness. Shrank even smaller when Walt tried to tug him out.

Go on. Do it.

Walt used Hollis’s face to grimace, but eventually looked down.

Oh.