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By Root 1182 0

block; the solid toddler in diapers and a fluffy dress; the gap-toothed, freckled, blond girl wearing a plaid dress in a school picture; the serious Brownie scout sporting a sash full of badges, hair held back with plastic barrettes sticking out from under her beanie; then, finally, the sickly looking and pale patient under an afghan on a couch. Caroline studied all the pictures, looking for signs, markers, that might have foretold her fate. But Helen looked healthy and happy and like every other little girl until, suddenly, she wasn’t. When had she started growing that tumor? When had it started hurting her? When did she realize that she was dying? There were no other people in the pictures with Helen—not her mother or her father. Just Helen. “She’s beautiful,” Caroline said, and turned to ask Nance more about her, but Nance had already stepped out onto the front porch and was holding the door open for Caroline to leave.

As Caroline stood on Nance’s front porch in the stifling humidity, she gestured toward the yard. “Pretty flowers,” she said.

Nance smiled. “Why thank you,” she said. “They’re hardly any work at all!”

Was she being ironic? Caroline had no idea. “Is Archer your real name?” Caroline asked her. “I mean, was it your name when you were married and had Helen?”

“No,” Nance said. “Why?”

Caroline hadn’t planned on asking this question, not so abruptly, so she didn’t have a reason already in mind. She just spread her hands and shrugged.

“It was Quackenbush,” Nance said. “That was my first husband’s name. Bernie Quackenbush. Now, I don’t want to be rude, hon,” Nance said, stepping back into her house, “but I’ve got work to do round here. I’ll see you in the morning!”

* * *

Back home, in the den, Caroline showed her father the folder full of documents about the radiation study. He leafed through it as if it were all news to him.

“Is this all true? You were head of this study?”

He nodded slowly, frowning. “Well, it appears I was,” he said. “But I don’t recall a thing about it.”

“That’s convenient.”

Her father didn’t respond. He shut the folder and gazed out his window into the backyard. What was he thinking about?

“Where’d this come from? Did Nance give it to you?”

“I believe she did. Yes, I believe she did.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got to get out there and do some weeding. I haven’t been out there in weeks.”

“You were just out there yesterday.”

“Was I? Didn’t do a very good job.”

“Was Nance one of the women in this study?”

“She keeps sniping at me. She’s angry at me about something.”

“I guess so.”

There wasn’t any Quackenbush listed among the eight hundred victims. So she still hadn’t given Caroline her real name. She was intent upon hiding her real purpose in being here, and Caroline didn’t feel she should expose her. Had she moved to Tallahassee just to confront Wilson? If so, she must have been mightily disappointed, because he was refusing to own up to anything. But now that she was here, what did they owe her? That was the real question. What the government had done to Nance, what her father had done, was a travesty. Caroline and her family were obligated to help Nance Quackenbush, or whatever the hell her name was, however they could.

“Is this why my mother left?” Caroline said. “Mary Conner! My mother! Did she find out about this … study?”

“Well, now, that could be,” he said, tapping his upper lip, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

Suzi was acting strange, like her personality had changed when she hurt her knee. She actually started being nice to Ava.

“Come to church with me and Nance,” she told Ava. “Please, Sissy? The minister wants to meet you.”

Sissy? This was one of Suzi’s tricks, but what part about it was the trick? “Why?” Ava asked her.

“I told him so much about you, that’s why.” Suzi was acting all hyper and shifty, swinging around on her crutches. She kept bugging Ava, following her around, pleading with her, until finally Ava said okay.

And that’s how Ava came to be sitting in Genesis Church, which was next to the dollar movie theater, where Ava would rather be, watching