The Wayward Gifted - Broken Point by Mike Hopper, Donna Childree Page B

put into stew,” Steuart said.
    “You’re obviously very bright and
imaginative, but we still have a problem. I can’t leave two runaway children
alone in weather of this kind. I’m not playing.”
    “We’re not runaways,” Sam said.
    “Looks like it to me. You have a choice.
We can talk about why you’re here. You can tell me what this is about.” Ceil
paused and wrinkled her forehead, “Has someone hurt you?”
    “No.”
    “Do you need to see a doctor? Do I need
to contact the police?”
    Sam and Steuart shook their heads.
    “Are you in danger? Do they need to
come to your home?”
    “No,” Steuart said.
    “I need you to work with me.”
    Sam groaned, “Why can’t you just leave
us alone?”
    “Because I can’t. We’re going to have
to come up with a plan. You can tell me what this is about, or, the alternative
is that I can get help from emergency professionals and report that I’ve found
two runaway children. You can work with me, or with them. It’s up to you.” She
leaned against the wall.
    “We live on the other side of the
river,” Sam said. “I’m Sam.”
    “We’re sort of new here,” Steuart said.
“I’m Steuart.”
    “I see,” she nodded. “It’s nice to meet
you Sam and Steuart. Now that we’re friends let’s walk up to my house and continue
this discussion where it’s warm. I don’t know how the two of you are able to
sit here without proper clothing.”
    Sam and Steuart were miserable but
refused to go to Ceil’s house. Instead, they quickly told her everything. They
told her about the day, about the book, about the watercolors, about the
tantrum and about visiting the tree house on their first day in town.
    “I’m sorry you’ve had such a bad day,”
Ceil said. “Your mother must be terribly worried about both of you. The only
way to straighten things out is for you to go home and make them right.”
    “No,” Sam shook her head and raised her
voice, “I’m never going home again.”
    “Are you certain? That’s a long time.”
    “You don’t understand. You don’t know
our mother. You have no idea what it’ll be like for us at home.”
    “Do we need to have someone go with you
to your home? I’ve already told you, I can call for help.”
    “No!” Sam insisted.
    Ceil sighed, “You know where you don’t
want to go. Do you know where you want to be? We need to come up with an
answer.”
    Sam was silent. Steuart was too. Ceil
offered to drive them home. “We’re not allowed in cars with strangers,” Sam said.
    “We know our way home,” Steuart insisted.
“We can walk. It’s close.”
    Sam agreed, “It’s very close.”
    “Okay, I understand. But, It’s time for
you to go home. Your mother must be worried sick.”
    “You can’t say that,” Sam insisted.
“You don’t know her.”
    “What do I need to know?”
    “She worries about herself, that’s
all,” Steuart said.
    “She has rules,” Sam said, “According
to Mother and her Right, Good, and
Appropriate handbook, children…”
    “Must obediently follow the rules,”
Steuart said.
    “ That’s the book you were given?” Ceil asked. “I know that book.”
    “That’s the book.” Sam continued,
“Children may participate and talk. They must not talk very often. Children
speak when spoken to and they must ask permission if they want to speak in
company. Badly behaved children are punished.”
    Steuart shook his head vigorously, “It’s
not pretty.”
    “Rules, rules, rules. Children are
allowed to laugh,” Sam pretended a weak laugh.
    “But not laugh too often, or too
loudly,” Steuart added.
    “Children may occasionally eat sweets,”
Sam continued as her teeth chattered.
    “Infrequently,” Steuart finished.
    “Children can be creative,” Sam.
    “Only within boundaries,” Steuart.
    “Children cannot be pampered, for fear
that they will become hopeless emotional cripples.”
    “Who knows exactly how much is too much
in these situations?” Ceil asked.
    “That, of