“He looked very much like you,” he said. I only shrugged. “And you just happened to run into him? Out here? And so late?”
My head was beginning to hurt, but my brain had regained some sense. “I had not expected to see him.”
“Hmm. Why aren’t you in your room?”
I held up the half-soaked book. “I...I had some money and wanted this...”
“You’re not supposed to be away from the house.”
I shrugged. He was being very calm and casual...and then I realized some people had come out of nearby homes to witness the spectacle, so he could not very well be harsh with me. Not in public.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, just loud enough to be heard by one and all. “Come inside; we’ll clean you up.”
He led me in to the kitchen and used a wet cloth to dab at the cuts on my face. “How did you get out?”
I sighed. He was hurting me but I did not want to let him know that. “Over the fence.”
“I locked the back door.” I smiled and shrugged. “How did you work it? The lock is very good.”
I took in a deep breath and said, “Ask your friend, Rory.”
That got me a sharp glance. “Do not get smart with me!” I just looked at him. He almost growled as he said, “You and he are not the best of mates, anymore. Why would he help you?”
“Money can buy information.” And if you need no further information from him? If you give him no more of your money? Is that why he wrote to my family? Did he want them to come get me?
He huffed. “So all of the boys know about this?”
I shrugged. “Ask them.”
He put some ice in the cloth and pressed it to my eye. “Keep that here. Do not leave.” Then he went downstairs.
To Rory’s room.
Where they would talk then search my room. Very thoroughly. Find my money and journal, and I would be in even greater trouble.
I did not care. My parents said I was no longer of this world. They knew where I was and had no more interest in me. Because of this one aspect of my life. I could not really know what that meant except I was nothing. To Papa. Maman. Gra’mere and Gran’pere. Any one who was of my blood. I was dead to them.
I was nothing.
I know I felt pain from Reynard’s fists and feet, but it did not really register. It meant nothing to me. Because...
Because I was nothing.
Reynard might convince my parents to come talk to me...
No, no, Papa wouldn’t...but Maman might and...and...
No. No!
I had sixty loonies in my pocket. I had brought them in case the book of Acorn's poems had arrived. I still held my wet book. I could see the front entrance. So that is when reality took over.
I set the cloth with ice in the sink, took a brick of cheese and a can of Fanta from the refrigerator, shoved them in my pockets, and walked out that home.
So far as I was concerned, anywhere else would be better than here.
No comments:
Post a Comment