Chapter 15

Abel, dressed for the day, is getting up the fire when he asks, “What’s that?”

“The song?” I smile. “It’s something I sing to myself, have since I was little. Ma called it ‘Frog and Rabbit.’ I think she maybe made it up.”

“She sing it to you?”

“That she did. She loved to sing. Hymns mostly, but other things, too.” When he offers no more, I ask, “Anyone ever sing to you?”

“No.” He then gets the coffee going.

I don’t know whether to prod or not because he’s not a man to be read. Best I keep my mouth shut, but I don’t because even his one-word reply is conversation. “Why’s that?”

“Just is.”

I fear to continue, so I wash and dress. I’ve let my beard come in the past few days and note in the looking glass that it’s fine rather than coarse. I wonder if Abel takes note. I think of Dieter calling me his “golden boy.” Does Abel see that or am I just an employee he can use in more ways than one?