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"
He
went
to
the
dresser
,
got
the
camera
and
the
last
flashcube
,
and
gave
Danny
a
closed
thumb
-
and
-
forefinger
circle
.
Danny
smiled
and
gave
it
back
with
his
good
hand
.
Quite
a
kid
he
thought
as
he
walked
down
to
Danny
’
s
room
.
All
of
that
and
then
some
.
The
overhead
was
still
on
.
Jack
crossed
to
the
bunk
setup
,
and
as
he
glanced
at
the
table
beside
it
,
his
skin
crawled
into
goose
flesh
.
The
short
hairs
on
his
neck
prickled
and
tried
to
stand
erect
.
He
could
hardly
see
the
nest
through
the
clear
Pyrex
bowl
.
The
inside
of
the
glass
was
crawling
with
wasps
.
It
was
hard
to
tell
how
many
.
Fifty
at
least
.
Maybe
a
hundred
.
His
heart
thudding
slowly
in
his
chest
,
he
took
his
pictures
and
then
set
the
camera
down
to
wait
for
them
to
develop
.
He
wiped
his
lips
with
the
palm
of
his
hand
.
One
thought
played
over
and
over
in
his
mind
,
echoing
with
(
You
lost
your
temper
.
You
lost
your
temper
.
You
lost
your
temper
.
)
an
almost
superstitious
dread
.
They
had
come
back
.
He
had
killed
the
wasps
but
they
had
come
back
.
In
his
mind
he
heard
himself
screaming
into
his
frightened
,
crying
son
’
s
face
:
Don
’
t
stutter
/
He
wiped
his
lips
again
.
