Henry's not at school the next day, and I realize something inside me is numb. It's like my brain is turned off, but my body is still moving. I do my paper route. I try to eat breakfast. I go to school. I eat a little of my lunch. I go home and do homework. I try to eat dinner. I go to bed, but don't really sleep. Henry's army men are still in the living room, hiding under one of the couches from where they were last left. I don't want to clean them up. It just makes me sad. Angry. I just want to help. He's my friend, and I want to help.

It's the afternoon. The afternoon train cuts through town. It's delayed by a freight train heading to Allisport. The sun is out and the windows are open. I don't remember what Ms. Lewis moved on to. A couple kids stare out the window. They stand up. Mr. Ryan meets someone outside. A man. He's wearing a hat and waistcoat, and his skin glistens in the light. His shirt sleeves are rolled up. Mr. Ryan talks to him. The man in the hat steps back and runs down Broad Street towards Neville Street. A lot of people are moving onto Neville Street. Mr. Ryan looks up at the school, covering his eyes from the sun, then goes back inside. Everyone is whispering. Ms. Lewis is trying to make everyone sit down again, even going as far as to smack the yardstick on her desk.

And then he appears, the door opening so fast that it smacks into the wall. Mr. Ryan folds his hands behind his back and straightens up. “Now, everyone, quiet down,” he says. We all go back to our seats. “Now, everyone knows that one of your classmates, Henry Walker, has been...” He doesn't want to use the word “missing”. It's a dirty, ugly word. “...absent,” he finally says, but the way he says it lands crooked. “The past few days.”

A couple older kids pass in the hallway. They stop to listen.

“Well, you'll be happy to know that he was brought home this morning.”

Everyone's whispering again.

“Now,” Mr. Ryan starts. He says it louder, then says it again. “Now he's been through a lot the past few days, and won't be coming back to school immediately, but when he does, be mindful of what he's been through. He might not want to talk about what happened.” Mr. Ryan nods his head. “I don't doubt you'll have a lot of questions, but let him adjust back into a normal routine.” He looks at Ms. Lewis. “Sorry to interrupt.” He puts his hand on the doorknob and starts to leave. “Any other questions, you can ask Ms. Lewis tomorrow. All faculty will be filled in on what's happened after school.” He closes the door.

A lightness goes through me and my head starts spinning. Ms. Lewis tries to get back control of the class, but we're too far gone for it. Everyone's talking about what could have happened. Arthur leans over and nudges me, smiling, saying things like, “Told you he'd be back” and “I just knew he wasn't cursed by the witch”. I smile back and try to laugh, but it comes out more frog-like. I turn red and look away. I don't know why a part of me still doesn't really believe it. Mr. Ryan said he was back. I should be smiling. Laughing. But I still want to scream. I feel all mixed up inside, and I'm too tired to sort out all of it.

I start counting the minutes until school is over. Bill waits for me by the front doors, and we hold hands when we cross Broad Street because it's busier than normal. The 15:13 train to Mill Creek is late because two other trains are at the station. We walk around the streetcar and stop to let a couple wagons go past. Bill and I don't say anything until we stop in front of Henry's house. “You can go in if you want.” Bill nudges me forward.

The great tree has only a few leaves left on its branches, pushing itself into the house, and Henry's house looks more upset than before. The boards on the front porch go up and down like shaking teeth, and the edges are black and wet-feeling always. A part of me doesn't want to go in. I don't want to see Henry in bed. Maybe he's all bruised up, his face swollen and one eye closed.

I'm at the front door. I don't even really realize I knock. Mrs. Walker answers it, and smiles and frowns at the same time. “Come in, Charlie,” she says. She puts her hand on my shoulder. The front door stays open. “Henry can't see you right now. He's very sick and tired. We still don't know what happened to him.”

Max trots around my legs and sniffs my shoes. He nuzzles his face into my hand before running off. There's a lot of people at Henry's house, all talking about jobs and Henry coming back. The dining table is stuffed full of small flowers and food. Folded laundry in Mrs. Walker's wicker basket. The house smells so warm and beautiful. It feels like everyone in Pottersville has come to help. That makes me a little happy.

Mrs. Walker goes upstairs. I follow her.