Iamtheonlypersonwhotrulyknopeheforest.JimmysstoryexplainedformethemysteryofthedrownedOscarLoveandhismiraculousreappearanceseveraldayslater.Ofcourse,itwasthegelings,andalltheevidenfirmedmysuspiofafailedattempttostealthechild.Thedeadbodywasthatofageling,anoldfriendofmine.Icouldpicturethefaceoftheihaderasedtheirnames.MylifetherehadbeeimaginingthedaywhenIwouldbeginmylifeintheupperworld.Asthedecadespassed,thecastofcharactershadshiftedas,onebyone,eachbecameageling,foundachild,andtookitsplatime,Ihadetoresenteveryohemandtardeaewmemberofourtribe.Ideliberatelytriedtetthemall.DidIsayafriendofminehaddied?Ihadnofriends.

    Whilegladdeheprospectofonelessdevilinthewoods,IwasoddlydisturbedbyJimmysatoflittleOscarLove,andIdreamtthatnightofalonelyboylikehiminanold-fashionedparlor.Apairoffinchesdartaboutanire.Asamlistens.Oelpiecesitsarowofleather-boundbooksgildedwithGothiclettersspellingoutfheparloraperedcrimson,heavydarkcurtainsshuttingoutthesun,acurioussofacoveredwithalattieedleworkthrow.Theboyisaloheroomonahumidafternoodespitetheheat,hewearswoolenknickersandbuttonedboots,astarchedblueshirt,andahugetiethatlookslikeaChristmasbow.Hislonghaircascadesinwavesandcurls,andhehunchesoverthepiarahekeyboard,doggedlypractigaude.Frombehindhimesanotherchild,thesamehairandbuild,butnakedandcreepingontheballsofhisfeet.Thepianoplayerplayson,oblivioustothemehergoblinsstealoutfrombehiains,fromuhesettee;outofthewoodworkandaper,theyadvancelikesmoke.Thefinchesscreamandcrashintotheironbars.Theboystopsonaurnsh