No reaction, just the soft sound of breathing.
If he found the mask, well, that was fine. If he didn't, then it was all in my head anyway. But I hoped he would.
I got up, hesitated, then bent and kissed him on the forehead before leaving. I flicked the lights off on my way out, shut the kitchen door firmly behind me, and turned my face to the chilly wind outside the cottage.
That was the last time I saw Lucas for almost two months.
***
Sandra brought the news to me the next day, when I was still trying to set my internal clock back to waking before noon. I'd already eaten lunch by the time I opened the shop, and a delivery of new comic books had taken up an hour or two after that. I was busy cutting myself a new, more precise bandage with some wadding and a scalpel when she came in.
"Afternoon," I called from the workbench. "With you in just...one...second. Trust me, you don't want to see the Grim Hand of Christopher Dusk."
She laughed and rested her elbows on my counter as I got up, wrapping the wadding around my hand and securing it with the elastic bandage. "Better make sure it wasn't a werewolf," she said.
"I think I'm safe in Low Ferry," I answered, hiding a pang of – conscience, or regret, or something. I don't know. "What can I get for you today? New magazines came in a few days ago."
"Thought they might have by now," she said, as I collected her usual assortment and set them on the counter. She flipped through them while I rang up the total. "Took the afternoon off. Just me and my magazines and some of Carmen's coffee."
"Nice for some. Nolan and Michael handling things?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said, and laughed again. I caught her eye, saw the mischief in it, and stared at her.
"You know about them," I blurted, stopping in the middle of totaling her cost.
"You do?" she asked, equally surprised.
"I imagine we're the only two who do," I replied, hastily printing her receipt. "Six twenty-two."
"I bet we are," she said, handing me the exact change. "How'd you find out?"
"I have eyes everywhere," I whispered. She grinned. "But if you knew – that whole thing with you and them last autumn..."
"Well, I do like Michael an awful lot," she said, a hint of regret passing over her face. "Nolan too, but I really liked Michael. If things were different...but they aren't. And the boys are happy, so why not give them a hand? You know they're leavin' town in a month or two. You won't make trouble for them, will you?" she asked earnestly.
"I haven't yet. What about you, though? You might hit some when they go."
"Why?" she asked, frowning.
"Well, people might think you were covering for them," I said.
"So what? Let 'em," she replied. I began to sense that I had grossly underestimated Sandra. "Besides, if I have to I can act all heartbroken for a little while and I'll make Alex Culligan comfort me."
I lifted an eyebrow. "Alex Culligan, huh?"
"Yep," she said, beaming. "Oh, which reminds me – you know Lucas? That weird guy out at The Pines, the one who's always lurking in here?"
"He's not weird," I said, annoyed.
"Whatever – he disappeared!"
I felt a pit open up in my stomach. "He – what?"
"He's gone," she said, with the kind of relish that often accompanies such gossip. "I had lunch with Alex. He says his dad went up from their farm because their well was out, to see if The Pines had any water, and the place was cleared out. He looked around inside and everything."
"Cleared out – how do you mean?" I demanded. She shrugged.
"All his stuff was gone, is what Alex said. Just a couple of empty boxes and the furniture that rents with the place."
I stared down at the glossy magazines on the counter, trying to keep my breath slow and even.
"You were friends, weren't you?" she asked.
"As much as one can be, with Lucas," I said, hoping my voice was steady.
"That's the truth. Anyway, Alex figures maybe he skipped on his rent or something. He says they saw one of those Friendly trucks passing through, maybe he went with them."
"I – maybe," I said numbly. "He liked them."
"Anyway, thanks for the magazines," she said. "I'll tell the boys you said hello."
"Yeah...do that," I told her, and when she was gone I leaned heavily on the counter.
The first thing I did, and perhaps I'm not entirely proud of this, was take my pulse, just in case. The beat was even, though, and my heart felt fine. Then I straightened and walked through the shop, grabbing my coat from the peg near the door. I flipped the sign to closed, and for the third time in four days I took off for The Pines.
It wouldn't have taken very long to load what little he'd brought with him into one of the Friendly's pickups. Their Christopher would have been pleased to have him traveling with them, and one more mouth isn't so much to feed when you already have twenty or thirty.
I wasn't quite outside of town yet when there was a tug on my arm. I stopped walking and looked down. The boy stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other on my sleeve, looking up at me expectantly.
"You're going out to The Pines," he said. I felt my left hand clench, as if I expected there to be something in my grip.
"Yeah, I am," I replied. I tugged my sleeve out of his grip and kept walking.
"You won't find him there," the boy said, running to catch up to me. "Alex Culligan says he's gone."
"I know that!" I shouted, turning around to face him. "What do you know about it?"
He tilted his head, dark eyes studying me.
"You're still going?" he asked.
"I need to see for myself," I said sullenly.
"I know," he sighed. "All right. Go and see, then. Can I come?" he added, with such typical boyish enthusiasm that I wondered for a moment just whether I'd imagined all of it – Nameless, the mask I'd made, the way the boy had looked at me sometimes.