Finding the Pieces

I tried my best with grammar please enjoy.

Finding the Pieces
Chpt 1

He was a young boy, probably nine or ten, pale and dirty. Mud caked onto his clear, smooth skin. Blood mixed with mud on his cotton t-shirt and battered khaki shorts.
He had no shoes on and he held in his small hands a pair of arms. They didn't belong to him or anyone; he just liked them. They were hairy arms, manly arms, and connected to them were the biggest hands he had ever seen. He liked them and he was going to keep them for his collection.

He was an odd child to be see wondering the Southern streets. He was only half the height of the corn stocks. Thats where he normally would be, hiding in the corn stalks finding things he liked.
But today he walked on the black and cracked street happy with what he found. Then he saw up ahead a rusty truck or tin bucket as he called them. The tin bucket sputtered and spurt, but it stopped gracefully like an old ballroom dancer who forgot the steps and remembered the ending.

A woman came out; she wore a purple blouse and tan khaki pants. She wore pencil heel boots and she had the rosiest lips. She took a good look at the boy and she saw the arms.
The boy was ready for a fight, these were his arms.
"What do you have there?" she asked nicely like adults always do.
"Arms," he replied.
"Arms, and who do they belong to?"
"I don't know, I found them there,"
The woman seemed only to smile and she walked to the tin bucket. She opened the door. The boy normally would leave, but something about this woman intrigued him and his senses.

The woman came out with wrappers of yellow, pink, green, and red.
"I have some candy, so how about you come into my truck," she said.
"Why would I want to go in the rusty tin bucket?" he asked, "Doing perfectly fine on my own two feet and a few pieces of candy won't intrigue me."
The woman smiled. She had figured it out. The boy wanted to know why the woman was so smart.
"Then, what do you want?" she asked.
"Why are you asking me?" he replied, "You're the one trying to kidnap me."
"What's your name?"
"Cinder, why?"
"My name is Catherine...funny name for a boy,"
"I named myself,"
"Where's your family?"
"Your nosy, they're dead,"

The boy became irritated with the woman and her questions. The woman was playing cat and mouse with him. He didn't appreciate it. He wasn't some kid who had a mom and dad. He wasn't one of those kids to fall into a trap because he had the security of mom and dad.
The woman sighed and she was about to walk back into her tin bucket.
"Actually, there is something I would like," the boy said.
"What is it?" the woman asked.
"I would like to know why I travel to different places," the boy replied.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know what I mean."
"You're a strange boy."
"And you're a strange woman."
"Well I can help you?"
"Can you?"
"I'm a brain scientist or a Neurologist so yes I can."
"Neurologist."

The boy liked the word. It was a big word, but not to big that he couldn't pronounce it.
"And how will you help me?" he asked.
"Easy we'll scan your brain," she replied.
"Does it hurt?"
"Not an ounce."
"Fine I'll get into your tin bucket."
The boy walked to the tin bucket and clasped his small little hands on the little side step of the truck. The woman smiled.
"Can you get in?" she asked, "You are only nine after all."
"I'll manage."

The boy walked into the tin bucket. For being so old on the outside it smelled new in the inside. The seats were made from fabric and were quite comfortable.
The boy looked at the woman as she walked in.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"A very big city," she replied.