He'll want proof of income. Wesley said in letters from people in town who can say you're not dangerous and she'll want to see the house. Everyone looked at him. Wesley met Calder's eyes for the first time. I've been through this before, he said twice.
I know how it works. Something moved through Calder's face that wasn't quite easy to read. He looked at this 13-year-old boy who had been through the selection process twice and learned the paperwork requirements while he was at it. And for a moment, he did not say anything. Then he said,"All right, walk me through it. " Agnes made a sound that was not quite a word.
"Sir," she said firmly. "I cannot simply write it down," Calder said. He found a pencil stub in his jacket pocket and slid it across the counter to Wesley without taking his eyes off Agnes. "He'll write it down. " Wesley looked at the pencil. He looked at Calder.
Then he picked up the pencil and looked at Agnes with an expression that said very clearly that he was not getting his hopes up, that he had learned very specifically not to get his hopes up, but that he was holding the pencil anyway. Agnes Hollowell closed her eyes briefly, and she opened them and began to talk. It took 20 minutes to go through the preliminary requirements, and in that 20 minutes, something strange happened on the red hollow train platform. The younger children moved. Not obviously, not all at once.
But by the time Agnes was halfway through explaining the county documentation requirements to a branch with a torn torn jacket, who kept nodding like she was giving him a grocery list, Benny had drifted close enough to watch Wesley write. Then Eddie had come to stand beside Calder, not next to him exactly, but near the way a stray dog might position itself near someone who hasn't kicked it yet. The twins had let go of each other's arms for the first time in 3 hours, and Clara, who had spent the last 40 minutes holding herself very carefully still, was now standing with her arms at her sides instead of crossed over her chest. Jonah was still staring at the floor. Maisie was still asleep, but the nine children were arranged differently than they had been, and Calder noticed this, though he said nothing about it.
The home visit, Agnes was saying, would need to occur within. "You can come today," Calder said. Agnes blinked. Today I drove in this morning. The wagon's got room for everyone.
You come out, see the place. Tell me what you need fixed or added, and I'll get on it. Mr. Boon Agnes was trying a different approach now. The approach of a person who is explaining something to someone who is not quite understanding the gravity of the situation.
Even if the home were suitable, even if the paperwork were approved, you are talking about nine children. Nine. The county guidelines for single parent placements. How many is the maximum per guideline? Agnes stopped.
She had not been expecting that specific question. The formal guideline for a single parent placement, she said carefully. Typically recommends no more than she paused and something shifted in her expression that was almost uncomfortable. It recommends no more than she consulted her clipboard with somewhat more focus than necessary. She doesn't know," Wesley said quietly to no one in particular.
"I know the guidelines," Agnes said sharply. "Then say the number," Wesley said. His voice was still flat. "Still careful. " But there was something underneath it. Something that might have have been the 13-year-old version of defiance.
The version that comes out when you have nothing left to lose. Agnes looked at him. Then she looked at Calder. The guidelines, she said evenly, were not written with a situation like this in mind, which means they don't specifically prohibit it, Calder said. Agnes said nothing.
Miss Hollowell. He straightened up from the counter. I am not trying to make your job harder. I understand you have a system, and the system exists for a reason. I am telling you that I have a house.
I have land. I have the means to feed these children, and I am asking you formally in front of witnesses to let me try. He looked at the children, all of them together. The station was very quiet. Benny, who could not stay still for more than 30 consecutive seconds under any normal circumstances, was completely motionless.
Agnes Hollowell looked at Calder Boon for a long moment. Then she looked at the nine children. Then she looked back at her clipboard. The home visit, she said finally, in the tone of a woman who is not agreeing to anything but is also not refusing anything would need to be completed before any placement is official. The county would retain supervisory authority.
Any significant concerns identified during or after placement would require immediate review. She paused. Are you prepared to accept those conditions? Yes. And you understand that this is a preliminary approval only?
Yes. And that the county reserves the right? Yes. Calder said, "Whatever the county needs to reserve, it can reserve. Are we going to the ranch or not? " Agnes exhaled through her nose.
It was a very controlled exhale. The exhale of a woman who was going to put in a very long note about this day in the official county file. "Get the children's things from the train," she said to no one in particular. And then something happened that none of the children had planned or discussed or expected. Maisie woke up.
She woke up the way very small children wake up from deep sleep all at once, blinking slightly confused about where she was. She looked at the platform. She looked at Agnes. She looked at the county men. She looked at Clara and Wesley and the twins and Jonah and Benny and Eddie.
Then she looked at Calder Boon. He was the stranger. She had never seen him before in her four years of life. He was a worn-looking man with rough hands and a badly stitched jacket tear. And he was watching her with an expression she probably didn't have a word for yet.