The inside of Ford’s mind felt like it was doing cartwheels, as though it was performing distracting tricks to keep him from having to acknowledge that the crazy but trustworthy Bucky of the past might simply be crazy. “All the wrong questions? Which are those?”
“Any but the ones you’re thinking of asking. Who-what-where-why-when, kiss those goodbye. They’ll get you nowhere or get you killed.”
“What’s left?” Ford asked, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
Bucky smiled happily. “That will be part of your adventure! Although you only need one. The right wrong question, asked enough times, could shake things up and make something fall out.”
Ford’s thoughts became all about wanting to punch something, as if that would quell the confusion he was feeling.
You’re better than that, Sadie heard herself telling him. And I’m going to find a way to make you understand that.
While being ruthless, she reminded herself.
Breathing hard, Ford said, “The right wrong question. And that would be?”
“The one that makes people wrongly give the right answer. The one they don’t mean to give you.” Bucky snapped as though he’d just remembered something. “Also, you need to stop avoiding the Roaches’ visits. In fact, you should embrace them.”
Ford’s mind transmitted the faintest scent of bleach, and Sadie felt him tense. “How did you know I’ve been avoiding their visits?”
Bucky ignored that, pacing the stage with his hands in his pockets. “Dress up for the Roaches, Citizen Ford. Entertain them, smile your biggest smile. Welcome them into your home. They’re your allies. It’s when they stop coming around you should be worried. It means they don’t need to watch—”
He broke off abruptly, pulling both hands from his pockets. There were nine white beans in one and five red in the other. He looked from them to Ford and whispered, “You’re four years younger than James, right? Eighteen?”
“No, nineteen,” Ford whispered back.
“Show me your ID,” Bucky said. When it took Ford a moment to get his wallet out of his pants, Bucky tapped his foot impatiently. “Come on, come on.”
Bucky jammed the beans into his pockets and took the ID. A few seconds later he was shoving it back at Ford like it was scalding him.
“Bucky, what are you—”
He grabbed Ford by the shoulders. “Forget all about me. I mean it. Never think of me again. Do not keep me in mind. Everything I’ve said sounds nuts because it is nuts.” He put his arms in the air, opened his eyes wide, and let his tongue loll out. “Invisible overlords! Tiger toes! Coming for you, ooga booga.”
Ford took a step backward. “Are you okay?”
“Scary pizza,” Bucky said, flicking his fingers.
“Um, Buck—” Ford said, taking another step backward.
Bucky stomped once, and the floor beneath Ford dropped away.
The fall was short and went straight into a large black canvas bag.
Ford’s mind registered Damn, and then, How long is this going to take?
You seem very calm, Sadie said to him. Does this kind of thing happen to you a lot?
Bucky’s voice came from outside the bag. “Comfy in there, Ford?”
Ford, more frustrated and confused than angry, said, “Trapdoor?”
“Yep. Rigged for large animals in magic acts.”
“Hence the fur in my mouth.” Ford cleared his throat. “Why, Bucky? We’re on the same side.”
“No such thing as sides where the Pharmacist is concerned,” Bucky said. “Don’t trust anyone, Citizen Ford, not even me.”
“If you let me out I’ll leave here and never come back, I promise,” Ford said. Although I might strangle you first, he added to himself.
Bucky laughed. “Cheers, Citizen F, very thoughtful. The problem is, I need to get you out of here, but I don’t want you to know where here is. So this is my offer: If you are a pain in the ass I will drop you on your head until you pass out. Otherwise, we can be pals. Which way do you want to do it?”
What charming friends you have, Mr. Winter, Sadie thought.
“Pals.” Ford coughed, and Sadie was surprised to feel a suppressed but unmistakable ripple of laughter from him.
CHAPTER 15
On Tuesday Ford came straight home from work, brushed his hair, put on the blue checked button-down shirt from his date with Cali, and joined his mother on the couch five minutes before the Roque Community Health Evaluator arrived. Lulu was out on a four-hour session with a special counselor, so it was just the two of them, mother and son, no buffer.
Sadie had been worried about what the mother-son relationship might be like in the wake of the cigarette fire and Ford’s cruel words, but it felt exactly, heartbreakingly, the same. They could each be kind to Lulu, shower her with open warmth, but they were frozen toward each other. Sitting side by side on the couch the distance seemed even greater, as if their physical proximity magnified rather than reduced their emotional rift.
Ford was still unsure how much to believe of what Bucky had said, but he’d decided to take his words about the RCHE seriously and make a good impression. Sadie hoped that would also ease tensions with his mother.
Five minutes after six, Rondy Torch arrived in her green RCHE polo shirt and khakis. She was in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length dark hair that flipped on the ends, big brown eyes, dark brown skin, and a bright, warm smile.
His mother greeted her by her first name, as though they were friends, and, taking her arm, led her toward the couch. “Rondy, this is my son Ford.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Ford,” Rondy said. Sadie felt Ford looking into every cranny to find a hint of reproach or scolding in her voice, but he found none. But she could tell from the slate of hovering silver dots in his mind, lined up like an army battalion awaiting orders, that he was still on the defensive.
Rondy leaned forward and said, “I heard about the incident this weekend. Are you okay, Vera?”
Ford’s mother wrapped her hand around the gold oval locket she was wearing. “I am. You know, I’m just so tired.”
Sadie felt Ford’s jaw, hands, and chest tighten with emotion he couldn’t parse. He avoided looking at his mother and looked instead at Rondy, whose expression was understanding but not condescending.
Sadie sensed Ford’s surprise and felt him relax his guard slightly.
Rondy smiled at Ford. “Since we don’t know each other that well yet, I thought we could begin with a word-association exercise. It may seem a little hokey, but it helps to build rapport. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Sure.” Sadie didn’t recognize the mood Ford’s mind was settling into, slightly immature but eager to please. She was filled with the insane hope that maybe, maybe Rondy could get Ford and his mother to hear one another.
Plus this would provide good, objective data, she told herself.
Rondy: Let’s start with the word “sun.”
Sadie: Moon.
Ford: Day.
Rondy: Dark.
Sadie: Light.
Ford: Beer.
Rondy: Happy.