7

He spent the next hour packing. He went to the attic and found his backpack, by itself now, neatly placed on a shelf that had, in its time, held hundreds of suitcases and bags. He brought it down to the kitchen. He put a few cans of food and a can opener in it, along with a half loaf of bread and a nearly empty jar of peanut butter. In a flour tin next to the sink were some one-dollar bills and a couple of fives, used mainly to pay the paper boy. He put the bills in his jacket pocket.

Outside, the day was bright and sunny. At the front gate he stopped to loosen the straps of his backpack, adjusting for his growth since the last time he had worn it.

Past the cobbled path, in one of the oaks lining the dirt road, a bird trilled once, twice, three times.

Billy passed beneath it, and kept walking. This time, he knew where he was going.