“What?” I said.
He shook his head, just slightly. Then he finished the haircut. But the jokes stopped. He worked quietly, quickly, and I sat there with a low hum of unease building in my chest without any idea why.When he was done, he pulled the cape off and Ethan bolted for the door, calling back, “Mom, can I have a quarter for the candy machine?” He was outside on the sidewalk before I could answer, pressing his face against the glass of the gumball machine.
Marcus started brushing the loose hair off the chair. But he leaned toward me while he did it, and he kept his voice low.
“Check behind his left ear.”
I frowned. “Check it for what?”
Another customer had just walked in and was hanging up his jacket by the door. Marcus dropped his voice even lower.“At home. Look carefully. When you’re somewhere private.”
“Marcus, what is it? You’re scaring me.”
But that was all he’d say. He gave a tiny shake of his head, a look that said not here, and turned to greet the customer. I paid, I gathered up Ethan, and I walked out into the bright Saturday morning with my heart beating a little too fast for no reason I could name.
“Why’d Marcus get so quiet?” Ethan asked in the car.
“I don’t know, bud. Buckle up.”
