"He's not the kind of dog you adopt," the boy replied, without turning around. "He does the adopting."
"He seems well-kept."
"Should be. They're always brushing him in the hardware store. He gets by all right."
"Dogs are pack animals, though. Strange to see one without a pack," I said. Before he could reply, one of his friends put his head in and yelled for him to hurry up. He sighed, laid a stack of comics on the counter, and paid with the last of his credit from the wood-delivery. Nameless gave me a look, ambled past the counter, and followed the boy out the door.
***
It was another few days before Lucas came into the village again, snowshoes on his back and carrying a bag of masks over his other shoulder. We ran into each other, me coming out of the hardware store and him idling down the street.
"Looking for somewhere to sell them," he said, lifting the top flap of the bag to show me the jumble of faces underneath. I saw two pale Noh masks in among the gaudy colors. "My shelves were filling up. Time to cull the collection again."
"Would you like me to sell some?" I asked, lifting out a fanciful papier-mâché mask with a silver cross-hatch design on it.
"If you'd like," he answered shyly. "You don't have to."
"They'll look good in the shop," I replied. "Come walk with me – haven't seen much of you lately. Getting along all right?"
"More or less," he answered.
"Lonely, out at The Pines?"
"You know me, I don't get that lonely. Just..." he rubbed his chin thoughtfully as we walked. "I'm trying to see things differently, and it's – well, it's not what I expected."
"Surprised you see much of anything, out there."
"It's not so bad," he said with a smile. "I keep busy. You remember the students I had in December? They've stayed on."
"How does the boy like that?"
"He's not happy about it, but he isn't throwing fits. Even if they're both girls."
I laughed. "Give him a few years."
"He's already older than he ought to be. I think it bothers him. The teachers don't know what to do with him anymore."
I glanced sidelong at him. His head was bowed, eyes fixed on the ground as they so often were.
"You must know what it's like," I said.
"Being young and smart? Sure," he said.
"Bet your teachers didn't know what to do with you either."
"They were fine," he answered, still looking down. "My parents didn't. They used to think I was slinking off to smoke cigarettes and have sex."
"Were you?"
He glanced up at me and smiled – small but mischievous. "No. I was making masks in the school art room. I'm not sure which they would have preferred. The masks creep them out."
"Want some lunch?" I asked, stopping at the corner before we could cross the street to my shop.
"Sure. It'll give me time to dry off before I track mud all over your shop. Besides, I need to talk to you about something."
"All right," I said, leading the way to the cafe. When we entered, he picked a booth near the back instead of my usual window-table, and I peered through the kitchen hatch at Carmen.
"Hiya!" she said.
"The service here is terrible," I replied.
"Watch it! I'll set my fiancée on you."
"Yes, Carmen, we all know you're getting married," I drawled.
"Anyway, what'll it be?"
"Lucas!" I called.
He looked at me, startled. "Uh, hamburger please."
I turned back to Carmen. "Hamburger, no pickles, fries, chicken salad sandwich on toast – make that two fries."
She cocked an eyebrow at me. "You boys want to split a shake?"
"Don't start trouble, Trouble," I replied, and went back to sit down. "So. You wanted to talk."
"Yeah..." he cut his eyes away nervously. "After last time we...had one of those talks, I thought maybe it'd be better in town. We might shout less."
"If I remember, I did most of the shouting last time," I said.
"I didn't mean – "
"It's fine. I'm sorry. I was only worried about you..." I trailed off, because what he'd actually said had only just caught up with me. "Uh. Is this about...that?" I asked.
He couldn't do it. I understand now why he couldn't; he couldn't say the words. Sometimes we can't. Even when they don't sound like madness.
"Things aren't the way I thought they would be," he said finally. "I see that now and I'll get used to it, I'm sure I will...Christ." He rubbed his forehead. "Maybe we shouldn't talk in public anyhow. Thank you," he added shyly to Carmen as she set down our water glasses.
He was uncomfortable with the silence, I could see that. He looked anxiously for something to talk about and, in his nervousness, came up blank.
"What do you think would sell best in the shop?" I asked, nodding at the bag of masks by his feet. "I can sell them on consignment, or if you want I'll buy them for credit."
"I'll pick some out, I guess." He looked uncomfortable.
"You don't have to. Business between friends can get a little awkward."
"Oh, no, I just...sometimes feel weird asking for money for them. I see all their flaws, you know?"
"Worried people will want their money back?" I asked. "Lucas, the Friendly are good judges of quality. If they'd take your masks in payment, you have nothing to worry about from Low Ferry. Pick me out some good ones and I'll sell them for you."
He nodded. Carmen emerged with our food and set it down, plates steaming a little.
"Enjoy," she said, winked at Lucas, and walked away before she got the full, glorious view of his ears turning bright pink.