(About the song....I couldn't resist.....hehe....)

I set my full plate of food down on a picnic table and drop onto the bench in a corner of Food City. Seth plops down beside me, on my right, and Doyle joins me on my left. Izzy sits across from us, shoveling food into her mouth. That is, until he nears us.

The new guy stands at the head of our table. Seth glances up at him for a second before turning his attention back to his food. Izzy glares at him. If looks could kill, he'd be dead right now.

Doyle nods for the new guy to sit. He walks around to the end of the bench, and sits. Izzy doesn't think a whole bench length is far enough away, apparently, because she picks up her plate and leaves, muttering angrily.

The new guy has no plate, just his pack. He heaves the pack onto the table and opens it, pulling out what looks like a chicken or turkey leg. He pulls down his scarf, revealing a strong chin, a short brown beard, and his long nose. He lifts the leg up to his mouth and sinks his teeth into it.

"You know you can eat the food that's served here, right?" Seth asks him.

The new guy doesn't even acknowledge him. Well, it doesn't really matter what he eats, as long as he's not a cannibal, right? His bear-dog leaps onto the bench and sits beside him, watching him eat with his one dazzlingly bright blue eye.

The new guy holds the leg out to the dog, who takes a chunk out of it. Then, the new guy resumes gnawing.

I stop eating for a few seconds, my mind swirling with the thoughts of all the stuff dog slobber carries before I decide it really doesn't matter and continue eating.

Doyle finishes a cob of corn and starts in on a second one. I dig into a mountain of mashed potatoes. Seth wolfs down a roll. The new guy and his dog finish their chicken/turkey leg.

As he reaches into his pack again, Seth asks, "So, what's your name?"

The new guy pulls out another chicken or turkey leg. He stares at Seth, taking a bite of the leg, then offering it to the dog. Another bite, more staring, dog-sharing, and then, "Rogan."

Seth says, "I'm Seth, that's Wynne, and Doyle," he nods at us.

Rogan's cold eyes travel over us before focusing on Seth once more.

"What's the dog's name?"

Rogan takes another bite before answering, "Pirate."

"Oh, right," Seth says, nodding at the dog, "'Cause he's only got one eye."

Rogan doesn't answer, but the dog looks at Seth, its lips curling back in a growl, almost like it's insulted.

"Sorry," Seth mumbles, apparently thinking the same thing, and turns his attention back to eating.

The meal passes in silence. We return our plates to the "dirty dish station" and head home. And that's when Seth starts asking more questions.

"So," he says to Rogan as we all walk along the road, Izzy stomping down the street ahead of us, "Why does she hate you so much?"

Rogan doesn't answer. His bear-dog, Pirate, trots alongside him, panting.

"But seriously," Seth pries, "Why?" Still no answer. "Come on, man."

Rogan takes an abrupt turn to the left, into the middle of the street, Pirate practically glued to his heels, and walks the rest of the way to Alicia's house that way.

"I'll just ask Izzy, then," Seth says as we all clamor up the porch steps.

"You'd better not," I tell him, "She might chew your head off. You know she hates to be asked questions."

"I'm still gonna ask her," Seth says, walking through the front door after Natalia and Alicia. Izzy got here before us.

Doyle and I exchange a glance. "We better go get ready to stop a fight," he says.

"Yep," I say as he turns toward the house, my eyes falling to his hand, wishing I could entwine my fingers with his and lay my head on his shoulder.

+++++

"Go away Seth, I'm not telling you anything!"

Doyle and I watch from across the living room as Izzy screams at Seth for asking her why she hates Rogan.

"Why not?" he asks, "I just want –"

Izzy shoves him against the wall. "I don't give a damn what you want," she shoves him again and stomps up the stairs.

"See? I told you," I say, heading across the room to Seth, who is massaging his shoulder.

"Are you not the least bit curious?" He asks me.

"Of course I am. But I know she's not gonna say anything if she doesn't want to. And Rogan doesn't seem like much of a talker. And besides, it's not even really our business."

Beside me, Doyle nods. "Yeah, just let it go, Seth."

Seth grins, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "I think I just found myself a project." He follows Izzy's path up the stairs.

"He's gonna get into a lot of trouble," I say, shaking my head as my eyes linger on the staircase.

"Yep," Doyle agrees, "But now that we're not busy trying to survive anymore, he needs something to distract him – even if it ends with Izzy beating him up."

"Right," I say, my thoughts traveling to Seth's younger sister, Kacey, who died on our way here to Finley.

"Anyway, tomorrow I'm gonna see if I can get a job keeping watch at the wall," Doyle says.

"Ooh, count me in!" It'll be nice to get out of this house for something besides Food City. "And Seth, too. Guarding the wall can be his new 'project' instead of being crushed by Izzy."

"Okay."