“Who?”
“Mr. Flores, number three.”
Mara changed direction so sharply she nearly fell.
At number three, an elderly man in a gray cardigan was kneeling over a radio-controlled model airplane on his porch. He listened to Mara’s explanation without interrupting, then said, “I changed that lock in April. The key’s on a hook in the pantry.”
“Can I have it?”
“You can. But I should come. That chain jams.”
He stood slowly. Mara wanted to lift him and run, but she took his elbow instead and matched his pace to the curb. Then Eli appeared on a bicycle, saw them, and offered to carry the key. Mr. Flores handed it over.
“Tell Doreen to pull the chain toward the hinge,” he said. “Otherwise the pin won’t release.”
Eli pedaled away.
5. THE FIRST REVERSAL
The four children had stopped laughing. Doreen could hear them moving along the wall beyond the gate. She kept talking because silence would let them drift toward the sound of the machinery.
“What’s your name, the one in the red shirt?”
“Cal.”
“Cal, do you remember the riddle at last year’s lantern station?”
“The one about the moon?”
“That’s right. Tell the others.”
She heard him recite it, stumbling over the words. A girl corrected him. Doreen held the gate with both hands as though she could hold the whole lane still.
The tractor engine changed pitch.
She looked through the slats and saw the nose of the yellow machine appear at the far end of the lane. Its lights flashed. Behind it, the platform carried a massive steel cradle. The rear steering assembly was angled toward the mural wall.
A worker walked beside it with a radio. He saw Doreen and raised a hand. “You need to clear this area!”
“There are children behind the wall!”
He looked surprised. “Where?”
“Right there!”
He spoke into his radio, then jogged toward the driver. The platform continued to roll. The tractor slowed but did not stop.
Doreen felt the old anger return, this time sharpened by fear. “Stop it!” she shouted.
The worker made a chopping motion with his arm. The driver braked. The platform rolled another foot, then settled with a groan. Doreen exhaled.
A sudden hiss came from the steering unit. The rear wheels began to turn in place.
The worker shouted something she couldn’t hear.
The platform’s tail swung toward the east gate.
“Back against the wall!” Doreen cried.
Metal scraped the fence. The gate bowed inward. Doreen let go and stumbled backward as the latch snapped. A strip of chain-link tore loose and fell between her shoes.
For a moment the children were visible through the gap. They stood pressed against the mural, eyes wide, paintbrushes in their hands.
