"And I remembered," he said, and looked at Del. "You told me. When I helped you with your leaves, in the summer. You said your garage door lock was busted and you had to fix it before somebody walked off with your mower."
Del made a sound. Janet put her hand on his knee, and under her palm she felt it shaking.
He'd found the scuttle the first day. He'd taken the old camping sleeping bag from the shelf in the garage, the green one that smelled like the summer of 1979 at Hocking Hills, and he'd made himself a place up there over the garage, back behind the Christmas boxes, near the gable vent. From the gable vent, if he put his eye to the slats, he could see across the street to his own front door.
"So I'd know," he said. "When my dad came home. I'd see the truck."
Mrs. Odom, by the window, unfolded her arms.
He came down at night when he was sure they were asleep, and ate whatever he thought wouldn't be missed. The third night he'd crawled over the joists into the attic over the house, because it was warmer there, and found the hatch over the hall and figured out he could let the ladder down a little way, very quietly, and climb down. He'd put a box of Christmas ornaments on top of the hatch, after, when he heard Mrs. Pruitt trying to push it open, because he was scared.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I broke one. A red one. I'm sorry."
And the cat had found him the very first night.
"He just came up," Kevin said, and for the first time something like a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Up through the hole. Like it was nothing. He sat on my chest. He smelled like fish."
"He does that," Janet said faintly.
"He came every night. He'd sleep on me, and then when I went down to get food, he'd come too, and he'd go in your room. I think he was telling on me." Kevin looked at his hands. "I thought for sure you'd come up. I kind of wanted you to."
"Why didn't you just knock on our door, honey?"
He was quiet for a long time.
"Because then you'd have to call somebody," he said finally. "And they'd take me back. And I wouldn't be able to watch for the truck."
Officer Brandt cleared his throat and looked very hard at his notebook.
The heater he'd found under the workbench the second week, when it started getting really cold. He'd filled it from the red can on the shelf and he'd only lit it for a little while at a time, at first, at night. Then he saw a man with a dog standing in the street looking up at the gable, and he got scared that the light showed, so he hung a blanket over the vent. And then on Thursday night somebody nailed a board over the hole, and somebody put a chair against the door, and he couldn't get out to the garage anymore, and the box was on the hall hatch and he was too dizzy to move it, and it was so cold. So he'd lit the heater and kept it lit.