LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

made him nervous. He’d been counting on this time alone with him to see if his uneasiness was justified.

      “He took a fishing pole with him, though. Try across the street. There’s a dock over there.”

      “Any more poles around here?”

      “Ann’s is by the kitchen door. Right over there,” she said, pointing behind her.

      “Thanks.” He found the pole and was halfway around the house when he looked back and saw Tracy staring dejectedly at the ground. He realized then that she’d looked just as down when he’d driven up. With Ann not due home for quite a while, he couldn’t bring himself to walk off and leave her that way.

      He came back, dug around in the tackle box for a minute and asked casually, “You okay?”

      She glanced up, looking surprised by the question. Then her gaze shifted down again. “Yeah, sure.”

      “No school today?”

      “Yeah. I went.”

      There was an odd, flat note in her voice. He couldn’t quite recognize it, but it disturbed him. He sat down beside her. Uncomfortable at being cast in the role of confidant, he searched for the right question to ask a sensitive teenager who was practically a stranger. He opted for being direct. “Did something happen?”

      She shook her head. “Not really.”

      He recognized the evasion. “Which means something did, but you don’t want to talk about it?”

      That drew a slight smile. “I guess.”

      “Okay, fair enough,” he said, respecting her need for privacy, even though her mood worried him. “Sometimes things don’t seem quite so awful once you’ve talked them out. Keep that in mind, okay? Ann’s a pretty good listener from all I hear and I’m willing to give it a shot, too, if you need somebody as a sounding board.”

      “Okay. Thanks.”

      Reluctant to leave her and still hoping that she might unburden herself, he sat there for another couple of minutes watching as Paul came racing out of the house and started shooting baskets. David hovered in the doorway.

      “Hey, David,” he called out. “Why don’t you get out there and challenge him? I’ll bet you’re every bit as good at basketball as he is.”

      David shook his head.

      “He doesn’t play much,” Tracy explained. “Ann says it’s because he got kicked out of so many foster homes for being too much trouble. He was always getting hurt and stuff.”

      Hank was shocked. “But that’s what boys do.”

      “I know, but some foster parents don’t want to be bothered. Now I guess he’s scared Ann will make him leave, too.”

      “That’s…” He couldn’t even think of a word to describe an adult who’d beat down a child’s spirit that way.

      “Awful,” Tracy supplied. “I know. Sometimes Jason can get him to do stuff, but most of the time he doesn’t bother, either. Ann figures we just have to keep trying. Sooner or later David’s gonna realize that it’s different here.”

      Hank’s respect for the challenges Ann faced with these kids increased tenfold as he studied the wistful expression on David’s face. His heart ached for him. While he was trying to figure out if there was something he could do, Tracy cast a sidelong look at him. “You’d better go catch those fish. Ann will be home soon. She’ll never let you forget it if she has to cook that chicken tonight.”

      Reluctantly he got to his feet. “Never fear,” he said, then leaned down to whisper, “I know where the fish market is.”

      Tracy giggled at that and, for an instant anyway, her somber expression vanished, replaced by that glorious smile that would turn her into a heartbreaker in another couple of years. An unfamiliar stirring of tenderness welled up inside him and he got the first inkling why some adults got so hooked on parenting. It was the first time he’d experienced the impact that youthful, carefree laughter could have on a jaded heart.

      The water was calmer on the gulf side of the key. The setting sun was hovering at the edge of the horizon, a huge orange ball ready to dip below the endless sea of blue. Already there was a chill in the air, which made Hank glad he’d thought to grab his jacket from the truck on the way over. When he spotted Jason, however, the teenager was huddled at the end of the dock wearing jeans and a T-shirt. He could practically see the goose bumps standing out on his skinny arms.

      Hank walked to the end of the dock and put down his gear. Jason didn’t acknowledge his presence with so much as a glance. Only a slight stiffening of his shoulders indicated that he was even aware that Hank had joined him.

      “Catch anything?” Hank asked.

      Jason said nothing.

      “Sorry I’m late. I got held up at work.”

      The apology was met with silence. Hank’s earlier feelings of guilt were rapidly changing to impatience. “Jason, I’m talking to you.”

      The boy turned a sullen gaze on him. “So?”

      “I expect you to answer me.”

      “Why should I?”

      “Because it’s polite.”

      “It’s polite to keep your promises, too. Ain’t that right?”

      Hank held on to his temper. He recalled what Ann had said about these kids having been mistreated by far too many adults along the way. “Yes, that is right. I’ve explained, though. I am sorry I got held up.”

      “Right.” He sounded skeptical and angry. Years of rejection had obviously taken their toll.

      Hank tried again with a more neutral topic. “I understand I’m borrowing your room.”

      “It’s Mom’s house. She can do what she wants.”

      “But it’s your room and I appreciate your letting me use it. I like the posters.”

      Jason ignored him. Hank had no idea what else to say in the face of all that pent-up hostility, so they sat on the dock in silence until Jason reeled in a good-size snapper.

      “That’s a beauty,” Hank said. Jason almost managed a smile as he unhooked the fish and plopped it into a bucket of seawater. “You’re good at this.”

      Jason shrugged, dismissing the success. “There’s not much to it.”

      “I don’t know about that. I haven’t caught anything yet.”

      After another instant of suspicious silence, Jason suggested grudgingly, “Maybe it’s your bait. What’d you bring?”

      “Shrimp.”

      “That should be good.”

      “You fish a lot?”

      “Some.”

      “Who taught you?”

      “I just did it. All the guys in Key West did.”

      “That’s where you’re from? Key West?”

      Jason nodded, then said, “Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind?”

      “What?”

      “Don’t you want to know how I got here?”

      Hank knew at once he was treading on treacherous ground. As he had earlier with Tracy, he felt out of his depth. “If you want to tell me,” he said finally.

      “I was in jail,” Jason said bluntly. His expression was defiant, daring Hank to react badly.

      “Mom bailed me out,” Jason added. “Then she brought me here.”

      Hank had to swallow his shock. He didn’t want Jason

Скачать книгу