I look over at the girl crouched behind a bush, which must be the reason I didn’t see her when I walked over. She’s covered in dirt. I can’t tell if those are freckles on her cheeks or just more dirt under her hazel eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair. The only thing girly about her is her pink shirt with a picture of a pony wearing a tiara on it.
“Disposing of a body,” I say, wondering how she’s going to respond. I figure if she calls her parents or the police and tells them there’s a body in the bag, the relief when they discover no body will bode better for me than the truth.
I also expect my words will get rid of her faster than the truth.
I don’t expect her to cock her head, her eyes to light up, and a smile to lift her lips.
“What are you doing?” I throw her words back at her as I cross my frail arms in front of my body.
“Hunting.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Hunting what? I don’t see a gun.”
Her eyelashes flutter at that, but she’s not afraid. You can’t be scared to grow up on a street like ours.
“I don’t think a gun would help me.”
“What are you hunting?”
“A spider—I think its home is out here somewhere, but it keeps coming into my room at night.”
I’m intrigued by this girl who hunts spiders.
I look back at my house. I should go back.
And do what?
I don’t have any toys.
I don’t have any food.
This girl will be a good distraction.
“I’ll help you,” I say.
“I don’t need your help.”
“Have you found the spider yet?”
“No.”
“Then you need my help.”
“Fine, but you have to do what I say. I’m the one in charge.”
I smile. “Deal.”
I walk over to where she is now crouched down again, examining the outside of a window where there are cobwebs scattered across the corner of the window.
“So, what does this spider look like?”
“He’s big and black and has a red spot on it.”
“And where did you see this spider?”
“It crawled on the floor by my bed last night. He scared the crap out of me. I’m going to find him. I think this is his web he uses to catch other bugs, and then he goes inside to sleep where it’s warm.” She points to a web along the windowsill.
“Uh-huh. What makes you think this web belongs to the same spider as the one you saw last night?”