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and went for the zipper of his jumpsuit. A flash of panic went through my body. I turned my
head and lowered my gaze.
'"Don't worry, precious," Daniel said. "I'm not going to violate your virgin eyes."
His wadded-up uniform landed in a heap at my feet. I glanced, ever so slightly, and saw that he
was fully clothed in torn jeans and a whitish T-shirt.
"So what could Her Graciousness possibly need to talk to me about"--he stretched out across the
mattress and cradled his hands behind his head--"that would bring her all the way down here on a
school night?"
"Forget it." I wanted to throw my bulging backpack
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at his head. Instead, I unzipped it and dumped the con-tents on the floor--protein bars, soup cans,
beef jerky, trail mix, a half dozen shirts, and three pairs of pants that I'd weeded out from the
donations that had come into the parish over the weekend. "Eat something. You look like a
starved dog."
Daniel reached down and sifted through the pile, and I started to leave.
"Chicken and stars," he said, holding one of the cans. "That was always my favorite. Your mom
used to fix it."
"I know. I remembered."
Daniel ripped opened one of the protein bars and wolfed the thing down in two bites. He moved
on to a piece of beef jerky. He looked so eager I decided to tell him my good news after all.
"I talked to Mr. Barlow today. He says if you meet him tomorrow morning, he might give you a
second chance. But you have to be there before seven twenty a.m.," I said, padding the time a bit.
"And you should wear something respectable." I pointed at the pile. "There's a pair of khakis and
a button-up shirt. Try not to be jerk, and he'll probably let you back in his class." I hitched my
empty backpack onto my shoulder and waited for his response.
"Huh." Daniel grabbed another protein bar and leaned against the wall. "Maybe I'll show."
I don't know what else I expected--maybe he'd
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jump up and hug me and call me a miracle worker? Or actually say thank you. But I could see
the gratitude in his dark, familiar eyes--even if it would kill him to actually say so.
I wrapped my fingers around the straps of my hack-pack. "Um ... I guess I should go."
"Don't want to be late to your Divine family dinner." Daniel chucked a wrapper onto the floor.
"Meat loaf tonight?"
"Leftovers. But I've got other plans." "Library," he said, like he was summing me up with one
word.
I huffed out of his room and back into the living area. Zed still lay on the couch, but two other
guys slouched in the room, smoking something that didn't smell like cigarettes. They stopped
talking when they saw me. I suddenly felt like a marshmallow in my white puffer coat. One of
the guys looked at me and then at Daniel, who came out of the bedroom behind me. "Well, 'ello
there," he said, and took a drag. "Didn't know you liked 'em wholesome."
The other guy said something vile that I will not repeat, and then he made an even more
disgusting gesture.
Daniel told him to go do something to himself and then took my arm and led me to the door.
"Get out of here," he said. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow."
I didn't peg Daniel as the type who would walk a girl to the car, but he followed me down the
stairwell and,
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as I glanced over my shoulder while I unlocked the van, I saw him watching from the shadows of
the door less entryway.
LATER THAT EVENING
April Thomas had the attention span of an ADHD five-year-old when it came to computers and
English books--reality television, on the other hand, could keep her occupied all day. Her latest
favorite show was on Monday night, so I wasn't too surprised that she wasn't at the library when
I got there. Which was totally understandable, considering I was almost an hour and a half late. I
got stuck in rush-hour traffic from the city, and it was pitch-dark when I pulled up to the library.
I wasn't much in the mood for tackling Emily Dickinson on my own, so I decided to go back
home for dinner.
I whipped into the driveway and slammed on the brakes when a dark shadow lunged out in front
of the car. My heart pounded against my rib cage as I peered out the window. Jude shielded his
eyes from the headlights. His hair was disheveled, and his mouth was fixed in a thin, tight fine.
"Jude, are you okay?" I asked as I got out of the car. "I almost hit you."
Jude grabbed my arm. "Where have you been?"
"At the library with April. I told Mom--"
"Don't lie to me," he said through clenched teeth.
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"April came here looking for you. Good thing I answered the door. Mom and Dad can't deal with
this right now. Where were you?" His eyes were sharp, like he wanted to tear me to the
bone--and his fingernails, digging into my elbow, felt like they could finish the job.
"Let go," I said, and tried to pull out of grasp.
"Tell me!" he shouted, wrenching my arm even harder. I'd rarely ever heard him shout before,
even when we were kids. "You were with him, weren't you?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust,
like he could smell Daniel on me.
I shook my head.
"Don't lie!"
"Stop it!" I shouted back. "You're scaring me."
There was a catch in my voice, and when Jude heard it, his eyes softened and he let go of my
elbow.
"What on earth is going on?" I asked.
Jude put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm sorry." His face twisted like he was trying to hold back
a rush of emotion, "I'm so sorry. I've been looking for you everywhere. This is just so horrible. I
... I needed to talk to you, and when I couldn't find you--"
"What?" Flashes of horrible things happening to Baby James or Charity shot through my mind.
"What happened?"
"I found her," he said. "I found her and she was all blue and cold ... and those gashes ... I didn't
know what to do. Dad came, the sheriff, the paramedics. But
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it was too late. They said she'd been gone for hours, more than a whole day."
"Who?!" Grandma, Aunt Carol, who?
"Maryanne Duke," he said. "I was delivering Thanksgiving packages for Dad to all the widows.
Maryanne was my last delivery. And there she was, sprawled on her porch." Jude's face
splotched with red. "One of the paramedics said she must have fainted with weakness while
leaving her house.
"Dad called Maryanne's daughter in Milwaukee. She's mad. She said it was Dad's fault. Said that
he should have taken better care of Maryanne, that he should have made her go to the doctor."
Jude wiped at his nose. "People expect him to work miracles. But how can you work miracles in
a world where an old woman lay on her porch for over twenty-four hours and nobody stopped?"
Lines furrowed around his eyes. "She was frozen, Grace. Frozen."
"What?" Maryanne lived in Oak Park. It wasn't nearly as bad as where Daniel was staying, but it
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| Cytat |
Dobre pomysły nie mają przeszłości, mają tylko przyszłość. Robert Mallet
De minimis - o najmniejszych rzeczach.
Dobroć jest ważniejsza niż mądrość, a uznanie tej prawdy to pierwszy krok do mądrości. Theodore Isaac Rubin
Dobro to tylko to, co szlachetne, zło to tylko to, co haniebne.
Dla człowieka nie tylko świat otaczający jest zagadką; jest on nią sam dla siebie. I z obu tajemnic bardziej dręczącą wydaje się ta druga. Antoni Kępiński (1918-1972)
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