In the aisle, Georgie said something, and a deeper male voice answered. An alarm went off in her head. Rose leaned over, peeking around the bubble display. A man stood next to the boys, talking. She put down the bubbles and marched over to the newcomer.
He stood with his back to her. It was a broad, muscled back, covered with a faded green T-shirt that was tight across the shoulders and loose around his waist. The T-shirt had seen better days. His jeans fared no better: old, worn-out, gray from permanent dirt embedded in the weave. His hair was dark and worn on the longer side, not quite reaching his shoulders.
He wasn't a local Edger, and Jack would've smelled him if he was fresh from the Edge or the Weird. Magic didn't work past the boundary, but Jack's sense of smell was still keener than normal, and people with magic in their blood gave off a specific scent. She never smelled it herself, but Jack maintained they smelled like pies, whatever that meant. And he was under strict orders to tell her immediately if they encountered an unfamiliar pie-smelling person in the Broken.
As she neared them, she heard the man's voice. ". . . yeah, but his arms don't move. He's stuck like that. You can't make him fight."
He didn't sound like a child molester, but child molesters never sounded like child molesters. They sounded like your law-abiding, churchgoing, nice next-door neighbor. And they were very good with children.
Georgie saw her. "Rose, he likes the guys, too."
"I see," she said. If they were back in the Edge, and if she had the knowledge to convert her power into an environmental effect, her voice would have frozen everything in a twenty-yard radius. "And does he usually hang out in the toy aisle talking to little boys?"
The man turned. He looked to be in his late twenties. He had a handsome face with a square jaw and sculptured cheekbones. No baby fat remained on his face. His cheeks were hollowed, his nose narrow and well cut. She scrutinized his deep-set hazel eyes. The eyes reassured her: they were honest and direct. Not a child molester, she decided. Probably just a nice guy talking to the kids in the toy aisle.
He reached up and pulled a pirate figure from the top shelf. "Now this one moves. You can pose him." He handed the toy to Georgie, and the boys bent over it. "Sorry," he told her. "Didn't mean to alarm you there."
"I wasn't alarmed." She toned down the menace a little.
"My mistake." He turned back to the toys.
She stood next to him, feeling slightly awkward. "Buying for yourself or your son?" she asked, to say something.
"Myself."
"Ah. Are you a collector? One of those Never-Remove-from-the-Box types?" Oh, that's good, she thought. Instead of ending this conversation on a somewhat comfortable note, ask the stranger more questions and insult him while you're at it.
He glanced at her. "No. I take them out and I play with them. I stage huge wars. I also divide them by weight class." There was a slight note of challenge in his voice.
"Do you have many guys?" Georgie asked.
"Four boxes."
Rub it in, Rose thought with sudden venom, and immediately checked herself. He had no way of knowing that she couldn't afford to buy them toys. He was simply answering the question. She needed to end this conversation, buy the damn shoes, and go home.
"I keep waiting for them to make a good Conan figure, but they never do," the man said. "I stopped holding my breath. Was hoping for Green Arrow today, but nobody carries him."
"Which one?"
He gave her a suspicious look. "Hard Traveling Heroes."
Rose nodded. Having two little brothers made her into an action figure expert. "By DC Direct? Parallel Universe down the street has him, but it will cost you thirty bucks." She felt like slapping herself. It had just popped right out.
His eyes widened. "Can you tell me where it is?"
"We'll show you," Georgie volunteered.
She glared at him.
"We can show him the comics, right, Rose?" Jack's eyes were huge. "Please."
Rose had to concentrate to keep from gritting her teeth.
"That's okay," the man said. "I'll find it. Thanks for letting me know it's there."
He looked at her like she was some sort of maniac. "No, we'll show you," Rose found herself saying. "It's just down the street, but it's hard to explain how to get to it. Come on, boys."
Five minutes later, the four of them were walking down along the Wal-Mart sidewalk.
"Thanks again," the man said. "I'm William."
"Rose," she said and left it at that.
The boys seemed smitten with William. Jack in particular seemed fixated. It made sense - he was too young even to remember Dad, and none of their male relatives were ever around long enough to make an impression. A lonely kid abandoned by his father, who had run off after some phantom treasure, Jack was desperate for some male attention.
"I have new shoes," Jack said.
William stopped and looked at his shoes. "Cool boots."
Jack smiled. It was a tiny hesitant smile. He didn't smile very often. If Rose could've gotten ahold of Dad at this moment, she would've laid him out on the asphalt with one punch.
Georgie took a deep breath, plainly not wanting to be outdone in the coolness department. She could almost feel the wheels turning in his blond head. She should've bought him those damn bubbles so he could've at least said he had something new, too.
Georgie blinked a couple of times and finally burst out with the only bit of news he could scrounge. "I got grounded for snitching."
"Really?" William said.
Rose tensed. If he mentioned leech birds, she'd have to come up with some sort of explanation. But Georgie only nodded. "Uh-huh."
"That probably wasn't good."
"No."
William glanced at her. "Does your sister ground you often?"
"No. She mostly does this." Georgie rolled his eyes in perfect imitation of her and muttered, "Why me?"
William looked at her.
"What made you think I'm their sister?"
He shrugged. "You look too young. Besides, not many kids would call their mother 'Rose.' "
They reached the end of the sidewalk. She took the boys by the hand, and together they crossed the street and headed across the grass to a small plaza. "So you're not from around here?"
"No. Moved here a couple of weeks ago from Florida," William said. "Jobs are a bit better here."
"What do you do?"
"I lay floors."