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"Why for, Robbie?"
"I got to get dressed. Pa's in trouble, and I have to help him."
"Pa in trouble?" The idea was uncomprehensible. His eyes were wide as poppies and his mouth agape.
"Don't worry. He'll be all right. Only I have to get dressed." He didn't move. "Please, Elliot. Just go up and get my things. Now!"
He jumped a little at the last word, then hurried to obey.
I got up very slowly and even more slowly walked to the sink. I turned on the spigot and caught a little water in my hands and rubbed my face. Next thing I knew, I was grabbing the front of the sink with both hands. I held on until I stopped swaying. All the time since I'd been hurt, I'd only gotten up to use the chamber pot beside the daybed. Walking across the kitchen floor was about to do me in. I sat down on the nearest chair until my head settled.
"You aw right, Robbie?"
"Yeah," I said, pressing my lips together. "Just put the clothes down on the bed, Elliot. That's all."
"Not even 'Sank you, Elliot'?"
"Oh, sure. Thank you, Elliot." Behind my back I could hear a little grunt of pleasure. "Now go along to the porch and play or—whatever you do."
"I wanna help you, Robbie."
"No, I'm fine. Thank you, though."
"I wanna help you help Pa. Can I?"
"No, Elliot." It would be hard enough for me to pull this off alone. How could I manage if I had to take care of Elliot as well? He had come over to my chair and twisted his head around to put his face right into mine.
"Pleash." He looked as though he was about to burst into tears.
I pulled back away from his face. "Oh, yeah, there is something else you can do."
"Wha', Robbie?"
"Go get my bank off the dresser. We'll need some money."
At the word we he broke into a grin and lumbered over to the stairs and thundered up the two flights. I had to figure out something fast, some way to keep him occupied while I did what had to be done. Despite his clumsiness he was back by the time I'd gotten around the table and sat down on the daybed.
"Now"—I lowered my voice to a whisper, making it up as I went along—"your job—your job is to go down to the general store—"
He looked puzzled. "By myshel'?"
"Yeah," I said. "We're going to have to split up at first."
"Wha' I do at da store?"
"You—uh—wait. In case, just in case they show up."
"Who show up?"
"The—the bad men," I blurted out. I looked close to see if I'd scared him. I hadn't meant to.
"Da bad man gone to Tyler."
"Well, one of them has—the worst one. But he's got some bad friends. They're the ones we got to get for Pa."
"Oh." He hesitated, then raised his drooped shoulder a bit so he seemed to be standing up a little straighter. "'kay," he said. "How dey look?"
I had to think fast. What I was trying to do was keep Elliot safely on the porch of the general store until at least dinnertime. I wasn't trying to scare him, for heaven's sake. So I thought of the most impossible description in the world. "They'll be riding in a motorcar," I said.
