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He could only half-hear his father and uncle shouting, like they were at the far end of the tunnel, and then his ears were cat ears and their voices were too loud, bouncing off the walls in a cacophony of sound. He was still wearing his chambray shirt, the cuffs pooled around his paws and the buttons straining at his chest. 

He yowled in protest at the noise, and both men fell silent. His mother was standing now, and though he could hear her elevated heartbeat her eyes were steady on his. “That’s my boy,” she murmured, and reached out to pet his forehead. 

There was a thump beside them. Charlie’s father had fainted dead away.

Ten minutes later, they were all sitting at the table, sipping the hot cocoa his mother insisted they needed. Charlie had a coldpack pressed to his leg. 

“So,” he said, looking around. “Do you think I should join the army?”

“Of course, the choice is up to you, son,” Jimmy said, at the same moment Rick said, “Run for the hills, boy, if you know what’s good for you.”

“You only ever see the negatives,” Charlie’s father said. “What about the G.I. Bill? Charlie could go back to college. Isn’t that what you want, son?”

“I thought about that. But Rick’s right—I might be able to get a different job, if all the guys in town are joining the army.” 

“That’s right,” Rick said. “And what if we go back to war in Korea? Or somewhere else? You’d be worried sick, Mindy,” he added, turning to Charlie’s mother.

“If that’s what Charlie wants to do, I’ll support him,” Mindy said. 

Rick leaned in. “Don’t you think some high-minded officer will take one look at him and think, ‘One hell of a scout. Or a spy.’ They’ll put him in the most dangerous situations, give him the most sensitive jobs.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Mindy scolded, but the concern in her eyes didn’t lessen.

Rick continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “I mean, who needs night guard when you can have a goddamn mountain lion prowling around? They’ll use you for sure, boy. You should get out while the getting is good.”

“He’s too valuable for that. He’s the only one of his kind. Right, Charlie? Can anyone else do what you do?” Jimmy asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”

“Well, then, there you go. They’ll keep him safe,” Charlie’s father sat back, satisfied. 

“So they can poke and probe him? Make him into a test subject? You’d be better off with the aliens.” 

“Rick,” Mindy tried again, “you’re overreacting.”

“Am I?” Rick leaned forward on the table, his eyes a little wild. “If you don’t think they know more than they’re telling us, you’re a fool.”

“It’s his duty as an American. We have to protect our way of life,” Jimmy argued.

“Our way of life is freedom! And if we don’t have the freedom to disagree with the government—”

“Maybe we should ask Charlie what he thinks,” his mother said quietly.

Charlie had been letting the words wash over him, his mind unusually blank. “I’m not sure. I never considered the army. There was baseball, and then there was my leg. I’ve never thought about the possibilities. But now ….”

One the one hand, there was the army and all its opportunities. On the other side, there was Briar. She tipped the scales.

“I tell you what,” Rick said, “I’m not going to wait around to see what’s really going on. I’m getting out of this town.”

“Don’t be silly,” Mindy said.

Rick stood up. “If they think the Soviets released this fog, who do you think they are going to come for? Me. The police chief knows I was a member of the party when I was young. He’s always suspected me. I bet the Sokolovs are thinking the same thing. It’s not a good time to be a Communist in America.”

“Where are you going to go? The only road out of town is blocked.”

Rick snorted. “I don’t need roads. I’ll load up the horses and head to my cabin. I can stay out there until all this blows over.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Charlie’s father scoffed. “Nobody’s going to come after you.”

“They definitely won’t if I’m in the backcountry.”

“Rick, I don’t think this is such a great idea. Winter’s not far off,” Charlie’s mother said.

“All the more reason to get going and get settled before the snows set in. If I move quick, I can be gone day after tomorrow.”

“You really don’t think I should join?” Charlie asked. He valued Rick’s opinion as much as he did his parents.

“I really don’t.” He laid a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “If you want to escape, you know where to find me.”

Charlie lay in bed later, letting his thoughts swirl. Finally, as the clock showed midnight, he went outside to sit on the glider where he had been with Briar the other night.

Just being outside cleared his head. He was tempted to transform, but it seemed like a bad idea right here in town. Most people didn’t know about his ability, and they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a mountain lion strolling down the street. It was enough to smell the grass and the trees, to feel the breeze on his face.

His parents, as Briar had predicted, completely supported him. It seemed foolish in hindsight, trying to hide something so important from them. His mother hadn’t brought up the idea of a cure again, and he hoped she understood that he would never give up his power. 

His father, once he’d gotten over his astonishment, had been thrilled. Before he and Charlie’s mother went up to bed, he had given his son a firm hug. “Now we can go hunting together again,” he’d said, clapping Charlie on the back. “I expect you’ll have a bit of an advantage.”

It felt good to be open, to be honest. He hadn’t realized how much secrets could fester. 

His parents hadn’t said it outright, but he knew they thought he should join the army. It was as if a path had opened up for him where previously there had been none. And it appealed to him—the chance to do something important and be part of a team. It was a chance to use his powers for good. 

But Rick’s reservations were valid. He didn’t know what the army would ask of him. The thing he loved most about being a mountain lion was the freedom. Would the army take that away? Plus, war might break out again at any time. He would be a fool not to fear that possibility. It would break his mother’s heart if something happened to him.

Added to Briar’s aversion to the army, it made a powerful case for continuing his civilian life.

In Briar’s driveway, a dim square of light appeared. It looked as if it was coming from her bedroom. Sure enough, a moment later, a shadowy figure settled in the bottom portion of the square.

Briar was sitting in her window. She couldn’t sleep either. Was she thinking of him?

Charlie could have said her name, or tossed another rock at her window. She would come down, and he could talk this out with her. But he wasn’t ready for that yet. He hadn’t quite set out his arguments.

The way he saw it, it would be best if Briar joined the army with him. They could help each other, learn together. It was an opportunity for her as well. And her power could be a real asset to the country. He just had to figure out how to make her see that. 

And if he couldn’t, he would give up the possibilities that the army offered. It didn’t matter if he got his degree, if they had to scrimp and save to make ends meet. They would have each other. 

Nothing else mattered. She was worth any sacrifice. 

But if things went his way, neither of them would have to sacrifice at all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Charlie

Saturday afternoon at the library was always a mad house. People streamed in with returns and disappeared into the stacks, looking for a new read. Children’s story hour was at one, but moms brought their kids in early so they could pick out a new picture book. Teenagers came in to “study,” which more often than not meant playing footsie under the table with their study buddy. 

Today was especially busy because so many people came in to gossip. As Charlie had suspected, it seemed that virtually all of the Independents had decided to join the army. The recruiters had set up shop in an empty storefront just off the town square. The gossip surrounding people with powers had gone from suspicious to approving so fast it made Charlie’s head spin. 

Normally, all the noise and activity in his beloved library made Charlie crazy. But this morning, it didn’t bother him. 

He was in love. It made him love the whole town. 

When the first televisions started to appear in Highledge, Hester had been convinced that it was the death of reading. He was sure she had said the same thing when the movie theater opened, or when the first radios started to make an appearance. No matter what other entertainment was out there, people still seemed to love books. The citizens of Independence Falls had taken Mamie Watkins favorite adage to heart: “Reading is the second best thing you can do lying on your back.” 

Thinking about the best thing he could do on his back—the things he and Briar could do together—had a roguish grin spreading over his face. 

“Careful with that smile, Charlie. People will think you’re approachable,” Hester said tartly as she set a pile of books to be re-shelved on the desk next to him. 

“I’m approachable,” he grumbled, then realized he was probably proving her point. He sat up straight, shamed as usual by Hester’s steel-spined posture. “People have been approaching me all day.”

Hester peered at Charlie as she pulled an embroidered handkerchief from the pocket of her deep blue cardigan and began to clean the glasses that hung on a chain around her neck. “You do seem rather cheerful today, Charles.”

He shrugged, looking around the busy library. It was full of young families, innocent children, happy and whole people. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t looking at them with envy. 

A smile spread his face again. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“
Mm-hmm
,” Hester said. “I’ve been around a long time. There’s only one thing that makes a young man grin like that. You’ve got a girl.”

He felt heat creeping up his cheeks. He secretly thought of Hester as an honorary grandmother.

Still, he couldn’t help but puff with pride when he said, “Yeah, I’ve got a girl.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “I think you should read the story during children’s hour today.”

Startled, Charlie said, “But you always read it. Always.” 

Hester shook her head. “I won’t always be here, will I?”

Charlie jerked to his feet. “What? Are you all right? Here, sit down.”

She waved him off. “I’m fine, Charles. Dr. Porter says I’m healthy as a hummingbird.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and lowered himself back onto his stool. “Then … why? You always read the story, Hester. Every Saturday afternoon, ever since I was a boy.”

She smiled, her soft skin crinkling like paper. “And I love doing it, of course. But the time is coming when I’ll want to retire. And a time may come when you want something more than a part time job. I’d like to see you take on some more responsibilities.”

When his brow furrowed, she laid a hand on his arm. “I like you, Charles. I remember you as a boy. You read everything you could get your hands on, and you still do. I’ve no doubt you love books, and that’s a fine qualification for a head librarian.”

Charlie felt dizzy. “Head—but I don’t have a degree. I’ve only been working here a year.” 

“Neither did I, when I started.” She folded her handkerchief methodically and tucked it back in her pocket. “I came to this town sixty years ago because I knew a girl could make a living here, in a place where a woman ran the show. And I was lucky,” she said, looking around the crowded library with pride. “Mamie gave me her books to care for. She saw something in me. The same thing that I see in you.”

Charlie couldn’t push words past the lump in his throat. This small, tidy woman had devastated him with a few words, and he felt humbled and grateful and thrilled all at once. “Thank you,” he finally managed. 

“Don’t thank me yet. Because there’s something else I’d like to see from you. You love books, Charlie, but you don’t love people.”

“People get in the way of reading,” he said with a sarcastic grin.

She shook her head. “A good librarian cultivates a reader’s mind. The person needs to be cared for just as much as a book.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

“I’d like to see you start.”

“Okay.” He thought about Lucy. He was hoping she would come in today, so he could tell her how much he’d loved the book she recommended. “I can do that.”

“And, you can do story hour today. Non-negotiable,” she said when she saw he would object. “Children are our most important patrons.”

“All right,” he said. His voice was gruff with trepidation. He didn’t think the kids would want story hour with anyone other than Hester. 

He could clearly remember all the years he had sat eagerly in the circle around the rocking chair she kept in the kid’s corner. It wasn’t just the stories—he’d read most of them already—but the way Hester’s voice built with excitement or hushed with emotion. Three generations of children in Independence Falls had been swept away by her stories. How was he supposed to live up to that?

When the appointed hour came, Charlie’s hands were so sweaty they slipped on his cane. Nerves had him scowling as he thumped through the hoards of chattering children and made his way to where Hester was standing. He caught sight of her raised eyebrows and, chastened, forced his face into a more relaxed expression.

“Children,” Hester began, and as one the kids hushed and turned to her. “I want you to meet my good friend Charles. He’s going to be reading to you this week.”

The chorus of “awwwws” made Charlie scowl again.

“Now, children, don’t be rude. Charles is going to read you a wonderful story, aren’t you, Charles?”

Charlie had a sudden panicked thought. Was he supposed to have picked a book? He barely paid attention to children’s books. Hester was right. If he wanted to be head librarian—and he suddenly wanted it very much—he had a lot of work to do.