Chapter 3

Dad stayed up all night, waiting for me to come home, but I never did.

When Mom came out of the bedroom the next morning, she asked, "That damn brat still hasn't come back yet?"

Dad sat at the table, smoking. "I went to ask a few of the neighbors this morning. None of them have seen him. He's probably hiding in some corner somewhere, sulking."

Mom threw the dirty bedding in her hands onto the floor. "Isn't that what he does best? The second he screws up, he pretends he forgot or plays dumb so we'll feel sorry for him and can't bring ourselves to punish him.

"He almost killed Ray-Ray yesterday, and he's still pulling this crap? Just wait till I catch him—I'm going to break his legs!"

When he heard that, Ray-Ray, who was sitting on a little stool playing with building blocks, looked up. "Mommy, don't hit Joshie."

"Ray-Ray, sweetheart," Mom started, instantly switching to a gentle tone. "Your brother made a very serious mistake. He almost let you freeze to death. He did something wrong, so he has to be punished. Understand?"

Ray-Ray gave a vague, half-understanding nod, then lowered his head and went back to stacking his blocks.

Dad sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. "The village is only so big. Where could he have run to? He must've felt so wronged last night that he ran off to spend the night at someone else's house."

He had barely finished speaking when our neighbor, Marnette Vaugier, yelled loudly from the yard.

"Tony! Time to gather at the old locust tree to get ready for the New Year's blessing and firecrackers!"

Dad got up. "Everyone has to be there for the ceremony. Just wait till he shows his face—see if I don't beat the hell out of him!"

Mom untied her apron too. As she turned, she noticed the half-stitched rag doll on the couch. It was a doll she had given me.

A few days ago, Ray-Ray had pulled its arm off, spilling the cotton stuffing inside, and Mom had promised me she'd sew it back together.

But now, she strode forward, grabbed it with both hands, and ripped it apart.

The already fragile fabric tore completely open. Cotton stuffing poured through the opening and scattered across the floor.

I flinched and tried to stop her, but my body passed right through her again.

Oh, right. I was already dead.

All I could do was stand there and watch Mom throw the torn pieces into the trash.

"He's already a teenager, yet he still plays with such childish stuff! All he ever does is play dumb, caring about a stupid doll more than his own brother!"

One of the doll's button eyes had fallen to the floor, rolling a few times before stopping at Ray-Ray's feet. He picked it up and closed his little fist around it.

"Let's go," Dad said, standing up. "Maybe he's hanging around the old locust tree, watching all the excitement."

"Exactly! We can't let him off that easily this time, no matter what! Doesn't he love to forget things? Well, I'm going to beat him until he remembers this lesson for the rest of his life!"

They locked the door and led Ray-Ray toward the village entrance.

"Josh still hasn't come home?" Marnette asked.

"He's been spoiled rotten!" Mom instantly fired back. "Just because we scolded him a bit yesterday, he ran off in a huff and stayed out all night! He's already a teenager, and he's still so immature!

"You have no idea… That illness of his… who knows if it's even real? He forgets what he's supposed to remember, but remembers the things he shouldn't!

"Last time I scolded him, he turned around and forgot it entirely. He just smiled at me and asked me what was for dinner. Do you know how infuriating that is?"

Marnette sighed. "Come on, the boy is sick. You two have to be a little more understanding—"

"Understanding?" Mom's voice rose sharply. "If we're any more understanding, he'll think he can get away with anything! I'm going to make sure he learns his lesson this time!"

I followed silently behind Mom, unable to stop my tears from falling. So that was what she really thought of me.

A crowd had already gathered under the old locust tree at the village entrance.

Red ribbons were tied around the trunk. A table had also been set up, and thin wisps of smoke rose from the ceremonial candles in the morning light.

Mom's eyes swept through the crowd, her expression growing darker by the second. "Where the hell is he?"

"He's probably hiding, too scared to show his face. Once the ceremony's over, we'll search house by house. It's not like he can burrow himself into the ground," Dad said.

I blinked.

"Mom, Dad, I'm right here. I'm in that trench behind the tree," I murmured.