I hadn’t received an answer about where their parents were, but it was possible the boys were just too excited about seeing Frey that they couldn’t take a moment to respond.
When they begged to be allowed to pet Frey, I gave them permission, but I turned his head to look at me, making sure that he wasn’t going to decide to bite one of them. He had never bitten anyone, but I knew such things were possible. All animals were volatile, (even, or especially, humans.)
The older boy told me that his name was Frances. The younger boy was Carlo. I finally found out that their mother had disappeared the day before, and their father was out looking for her.
“He left you all alone?” I asked, trying not to reflect disapproval on my face. But couldn’t the man have found a babysitter or taken the boys with him?
The boys were as young as I’d suspected. Little Carlo was only four. Frances said he was seven, but I doubted that. His missing teeth put him closer to six, if Mrs. Banner’s children were average tooth losers.
“Did your father say you could play near the creek?” I asked.
“He didn’t say we couldn’t,” Frances said, pushing out his chest as if that made him seem older.
“Where do you think your mother went?” I asked, curiosity overriding good manners.
My question didn’t seem to bother Frances. He shrugged, then offered. “She probably went to the doctor. Dad hit her pretty hard. Last time he busted her nose. This time she might have gotten a broken arm. Dad was really drunk.”