Maybe it was because they had a stranger in the house, especially the female variety. Maybe it was because the excitement of the wreck was over. He didn't know. After he'd asked her how she felt in the early morning, he didn't have anything else to inquire about because there was no answer. She'd just stared. Then he caught her looking at him when his back was turned. It made him nervous. Perhaps it was because the girl looked so funny with those circled eyes and dead-white skin. Besides, he truthfully didn't know what to say to her. How do you talk to anyone who doesn't talk back? Who doesn't have a name? It was like trying to talk to a scared rabbit. Maybe she was crazy, Ben thought. They could have been bringing her up from somewhere to put her in an insane asylum. They had one in Raleigh, he'd heard. Ben worked a couple hours for Mr. Burrus out behind the store in Chicky, cleaning hen pens, and then filled a sugar barrel with ducks, head down. They'd go on to Elizabeth City to be iced up; then to Norfolk.
