She's young enough that maybe... maybe, James thinks, it should be okay to tell her. Because what his mama told him was that Mr. Sawyer was the kind of man who went after women who weren't happy. She didn't say anything about girls. And this person, she's definitely a girl, even if her eyes look a little older, look a little scared, like the way that his mama got when pa got back drunk. More than anything else, though, it's probably best to get his name out there. So that people don't get fooled. If any of mama's friends had told her about Mr. Sawyer, James considers, there'd be no way that she'd stick around for that.

So he sighs softly, kicking and scuffing his shoe against the porch. "His name's Mr. Sawyer. I don't know where he's from, but... he was 'round here for a while. And now he's gone."