Chapter 8

“Hey there. I’m Butch. Who’re you?”

Around me, Tom and his friend Wayne had organized the other kids and was demoing how to stamp the leather and braid it. The other kids was tearing through the project like they was running a race. This kid only looked scared until I asked his name.

“Leonard Benedict Wainwright.” He whispered so low I almost missed it.

It was a lot of name for such a tiny little boy. His plaid shirt and creased jeans looked new without a mark on ‘em, like he never’d worn ‘em before.

“So you want to learn how to make a cuff, huh?” I pointed at the one on my wrist. My forearm looked wider around than his waist.

I picked up a piece of leather and shoved it toward him. He took a step back. His eyes widened like I was going to hit him.

His move away almost made me fall over. Me hit a kid? Never.

Instead, I patted the piece of leather in front of him on the table.

“Here. Lemme show you how to do this. It’s easy.”