Page 24 of The Corruption of Hollis Brown

Delicate

It was cold. True winter.

The air couldn’t hold moisture at this temperature; snow swirled on the ground like dust.

Hollis was wearing his coat from two years ago. It was plaid, knit, and ugly as sin. He had the mittens Annie made and the hat Yulia bought him just after they met, and they just barely kept him from shivering.

The streetlights stretched his shadow in shades of orange and gray.

Hollis saw Walt from a distance.

He was six blocks down, directly in the center of the road. His blond hair white in the dark. He was staring up at the sky, head tilted back far enough that he had his arms out for balance.

It felt still, like it did when they first met.

The wind grew quiet. The whole neighborhood was frozen.

Hollis’s heart slammed against his ribs as he gazed at Walt, and he thought—for just a second—about turning around and running back home.

As if Walt could hear the moment Hollis’s brain produced that thought, his head turned quick.

Hollis stopped walking.

Walt grinned at him.

Run

“I was sure you weren’t gonna show!” Walt shouted down the street.

Hollis couldn’t help but look around quickly before picking up speed. It was late; people were sleeping.

“That should be my line,” Hollis said when he got close enough to not have to yell it.

Walt laughed and shrugged.

He was still wearing Hollis’s coat, and for a moment Hollis envied him. His newer coat was a lot warmer than the one he was wearing. But that feeling didn’t last long. Walt looked bad.

Not the way someone did when they were sleeping outside, or if they got in a fight. He looked . . . sick.

Like someone who had been ill for a long time. Definitely more than twenty-four hours’ worth of illness. His hair was lank at the roots, his skin was papery and dry. He even looked thinner, though Hollis knew that shouldn’t be possible.

It had been only one day.

“I know, I know,” Walt said. “I swear to God I clean up well.”

Walt’s eyes were shiny, burning with energy he didn’t look like he could afford. He raised an eyebrow playfully, then shrugged as if to say, What else can we do?

“Yeah, I guess,” Hollis said dubiously.

“Don’t stare, you’re making me bashful.”

Hollis looked away.

“So, what’s the story, morning glory? Did the black-and-whites catch up with you yet?”

“What?”

“The fuzz. Police. They clear your name?” Walt clarified, rubbing his hands together and blowing on them.