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Now Connor finally begins to get it. Even though Hayden has put the candle down, all this talk of unwinding is just like passing his hand across the flame. He likes to linger at the edge of dangerous places. Dangerous thoughts. Connor thinks about his own favorite edge, behind the freeway road sign. In a way, they're both alike.
"Fine," Connor tells him. "Think about stuff until your head explodes. But the only thing I want to think about is surviving to eighteen."
"I find your shallowness both refreshing and disappointing at the same time. Do you think that means I need therapy?"
"No, I think your parents deciding to unwind you just to spite each other means you need therapy."
"Good point. You have a lot of insight for a Morlock." Then Hayden gets quiet for a moment. The smirk on his face fades. "If I actually get unwound, I think it will bring my parents back together."
Connor doesn't have the heart to burst his fantasy, but Mai does. "Naah. If you get unwound, they'll just blame each other for it, and hate each other even more."
"Maybe," says Hayden. "Or maybe they'll finally see the light, and it will be Humphrey Dunfee all over again."
"Who?" says Mai.
They both turn toward her. Hayden cracks a wide smile. "You mean you've never heard of Humphrey Dunfee?"
Mai looks around suspiciously. "Should I have?"
The smile never leaves Hayden's face. "Mai, I'm truly amazed that you don't know this. It's your kind of story." He reaches for the candle and pushes it out so that it sits between the three of them. "It's not a campfire," he says, "but it will have to do." Hayden looks into the flame for a moment, then slowly, eerily turns his eyes toward Mai.
"Years ago there was this kid. His name wasn't really Humphrey—it was probably Hal or Harry or something like that—but Humphrey kind of fits, considering. Anyway, one day his parents sign the order to have him unwound."
"Why?" asks Mai.
"Why do any parents sign the order? They just did, and the Juvey-cops came for him bright and early one morning. They snatch him, ship him off, and it's over for him.—He's unwound without a hitch."
"So that's it?" asks Mai.
"No . . . because there is a hitch," says Connor, picking up where Hayden left off. "See, the Dunfees, they're not what you would call stable people. They were a little bit nuts to begin with, but after their kid is unwound, they lose it completely."
Now Mai's tough-girl exterior is all but gone. She truly is like a little kid listening wide-eyed to a campfire story. "What did they do?"
"They decided they didn't want Humphrey unwound after all," says Hayden.
"Wait a second," says Mai. "You said they already unwound him."
Hayden's eyes look maniacal in the candlelight. "They did."
Mai shudders.
"Here's the thing," says Hayden. "Like I said, everything about harvest camp is secret—even the records of who receives what, once the unwinding is done."
"Yeah, so?"
"So the Dunfees found the records. The father, I think, worked for the government, so he was able to hack into the parts department."
"The what?"
Hayden sighs. "The National Unwind Database."
"Oh."
"And he gets a printout of every single person who received a piece of Humphrey. Then the Dunfees go traveling around the world to find them . . . so they can kill them, take back the parts, and bit by bit make Humphrey whole. . . ."
"No way."
"That's why people call him Humphrey," Connor adds. "'Cause 'all the king's horses and all the king's men . . . couldn't put Humphrey together again."'
