Tarsha hesitated. “I want to see him anyway.”
Her uncle shook his shaggy head, his face stern and set. “He ain’t what you remember. He ain’t been since he came here. He was trouble from the moment he arrived, and not much has changed. I keep him because my brother wants it, but I don’t much like it. He’s a millstone around my neck, and if it wasn’t for your parents’ insisting…”
“Then let me take him home,” she interrupted. “I can manage him.”
Another shake of the head. “Tried to send him home already. Your parents wouldn’t take him back. Said he had to stay here until he changed. They won’t let you bring him back neither, I expect.”
She stared at him in shock. Mama and Papa wouldn’t let Tavo come home? They were forcing him to stay here with her uncle? Locked in a shed like an animal? He had to be lying! “They wouldn’t agree to that!” she snapped. “They probably don’t even know about it!”
“Well, they do know, so change your thinking.” He paused. “Do you know what he was like when he first got here?”
She shook her head. She didn’t know anything. “He didn’t write me. Mama and Papa wouldn’t let me come visit.”
“No, I don’t guess they would.” He looked over to the punishment shed as if considering it. “First week he was here, he was so angry he wouldn’t speak a word. Second week, he started killing things. Small animals, at first. Wild or tame, didn’t matter. Then he killed my dog. Did it for no reason I could understand. I loved that old dog. He was my best friend after Mayerling died and I chose not to wed again. Boy crossed a line on that one, and I had to teach him a lesson. I put him in the punishment shed for the first time. But it wasn’t the last.”
“This has been going on for four years?” Tarsha was practically shouting at him. “You’ve been locking him up for four years?”
“Had to. He just got worse and worse. Started coming after me. Once he got hold of a knife and tried to use it on me. And it’s getting worse. He’s bigger now, stronger. I can’t take chances with him. But my brother pays me to keep him, so I do. His wife, your mama, begs me, too. She’s terrified of him. They came once, early on. Couple of months into his stay. Did they tell you that?”
They hadn’t. They’d told her nothing of a visit.
“That was when they said I had to keep him. He was too dangerous to go home, too wild and unpredictable. Doesn’t think right. Doesn’t know what he’s doing. I agreed. Thought I could reach him in time. Thought I could teach him to work the land, learn something useful. I tried to teach him. I tried to show him how to have fun.”
He paused, looking off into the distance as if remembering, a disturbing smile creeping over his worn face. “We had a few good times, him and me. We had some fun times. He learned to play some games. I taught him how. He liked them well enough. He was happy to play them. We was close for a bit, him and me.” His gaze shifted back to her, his face suddenly hard again. “But that’s all ended. Can’t be doing anything like that anymore. Can’t risk it. Can’t trust him not to hurt me. I got to watch him close. He’s smart, but he’s crazy, too. He gets out of control too easy. He thinks I’m doing stuff to him I’m not.”
“What do my parents think about what you’re doing?” she asked him, wondering suddenly what he was talking about. The dismay in her voice was unmistakable. “Don’t they worry about him?”
“They don’t ask, I don’t tell. They mostly worry for themselves. You don’t know, girl. He’s like a wild animal. They just want him out of their hair. They didn’t tell you that?”
They hadn’t, of course. They hadn’t told her anything of what was happening here. But it was clear now that they didn’t want Tavo back. That he wasn’t their son anymore.
And they had known better than to tell any of this to Tarsha.
“I need to see him,” she said finally, her voice softened. “Please.”
He started to object and stopped. Studied her a long minute and then sighed. “All right, then. But only for a few moments. And you got to do what I tell you, do what I say. First off, stand right in the doorway once it’s open. Don’t take another step. Don’t let him get near you. He’s dangerous, girl. You might not want to believe it, but he is. He might not even know who you are, and he can hurt you. So you stand with me and you don’t move. You just talk to him. If you can get him to talk.”
She nodded at once. If this was the best she could do, it would have to be enough. But if there was more to be had, more to be gained, she would press him again after she had seen how Tavo was. She had taken too long already to come here. She was not going to leave without having achieved something.
He hesitated a moment longer—perhaps thinking, wrongly, that she might change her mind. When she just stood there staring at him, he turned and started for the shed, Tarsha at his heels. The path was well worn, suggesting her uncle had come and gone to the shed often. A larger, wider track, more a road than a path, followed in parallel fashion to the barn. Tarsha was aware of her uncle’s bulk as he lumbered along the smaller path, and she wondered momentarily if she might be in danger, but she dismissed that as foolishness. He had no reason to want to harm her.
At the door to the shed, he stopped and turned back to her.
“Remember what I told you. Stand beside me and do not attempt to enter on your own. Stay in the doorway and keep clear of his reach. Sometimes he don’t even know who I am. Might be so with you. You just speak to him and see if he responds. Understood?”
She gave him a brief nod, worried now about how she would find Tavo. She felt her heart racing as he used a key to release the huge padlock that held the door secure. She listened to its loud snick, watched her uncle slip it free. The door swung open, and she peered into the gloom.
At first, she couldn’t see anything. The shed was clapboard-built with gaps in the walls between slats where the light shone through. There were no windows. There was a floor of hay and a stall; some empty hooks fastened to the walls here and there. The smell was rank and pungent, and she wrinkled her nose.
Then she saw Tavo, huddled at the back wall. At least, she assumed it was her brother. He was curled into a ball with his face turned away and his arms about his head. She caught a glimpse of the iron clamp locked onto his ankle and the heavy chain leading away to a ring set into a massive stone block.
Her uncle nudged her, nodding toward the creature lying on the floor. Tavo. Her brother. She was so shocked and appalled that for a moment she couldn’t speak. How had this happened? How could her parents have allowed it?
“Tavo?” she called softly to him. “It’s Tarsha.”
He did not respond.
“Tavo, please talk to me.”
He lifted his head to look at her. Mumbled something, and then lowered his head again.
“Tavo, I need you to talk to me. I miss you so much.”
“You don’t miss me!” The words came out a low, harsh growl filled with anger and frustration. “You’ve never missed me. You abandoned me!”
She cringed at the rebuke, fighting not to cry.
“I was trying to help you. I was trying to find—”