“So why are you here, Lukey?What’d you comesee me for?”
“I wanted…” He frowned.“I wanted to hear yousay you weren’t part of it.I wanted to know you weren’t involved.”He hadn’t realized it, but it was true.
Sean nodded slowly, then smiled his crookedhalf-smile.“You know I might have been.If I hadn’t been tiredlast night, if I’d been in the right mood…I might have been part ofthat.”He waited to see Lucas’s reaction.
There was nothing to do but nod.“Yeah.Iguess.But you weren’t.And, Sean…don’t be.If there’s more ofthis, don’t be part of it.And tell Mikey and Tinker…” Tell themwhat?How far was Lucas prepared to go with this?Pretty far, herealized.“Tell them not to mess with him anymore.If they do,they’re messing with me.”
Sean looked like he might laugh.“There was atime they might have cared about that, man.A time they might havebeen scared of you.But it’s a funny thing—you beat a man into ahospital bed and suddenly he doesn’t seem all that scary anymore,no matter how psycho you used to think he was.”
“You think three years in the federal penmade me forget how to fight?Seriously?You think I wasfightingthat day in the park?Did I even take a fuckingswing at any of you?”Lucas stepped a little closer, and Seandidn’t look like he was going to laugh anymore.“I’m glad youweren’t involved, Sean, because I don’t want to do to you what I’mgoing to do to them if they fuck with him again.”He let his gazebore into Sean’s and kept his stare as cold and deadly as it hadever been.
Sean thought for a moment, then softly said,“So that’s how it is?Me and the boys get in a fight for you,trying to stand up for your honor, and it’s all ‘I’m on parole’ and‘I’m not like that anymore’.But your new…” He paused as ifsearching for the right word, then snorted in disgust.“Your newfriendgets a broken window, and all of a sudden you’re atough guy again?That’s how it is?”
Lucas nodded slowly.“I guess so, yeah.That’s how it is.”But this was Sean, so Lucas tried a littleharder.“It’s a game with you guys.Don’t say it isn’t, ’cause Iwas part of it for too long.And I’m not going back to that.I’mnot playing the game anymore, not getting in made-up fights in barsover shit nobody even really cares about.”He’d already beenstanding close to Sean but now he eased in a little tighter to say,“If I come back to it, it’s not going to be a game for me.That’swhat you need to get Mikey and Tinker to understand.If I comeback, I’m not going to be playing.”
Sean eased backward but never took his gazefrom Lucas’s face.He smiled sadly.“Fuck, Lucas, you’re still abadass when you want to be.You and me, man.We could have tornthis town apart.Nobody would have fucked with us.”
There was a time when that would have seemedlike a worthy goal to Lucas, but that time was past.Now, it justsounded sad, like the old men he and Sean used to laugh at, goingdown to the bar with their beer guts and trying to pick up thescantily dressed young women.But there was no way to explain anyof that to Sean, so Lucas just nodded.“I guess.But that’s not howit happened.”He stepped back.“Talk to Mikey and Tinker, okay?This doesn’t have to go bad.”
“I’ll talk to them,” Sean said slowly.“ButI’m not sure they’re going to hear it.”He stepped back toward thehouse.“If you’re going to get in the middle of this?You need towatch your back, Lukey.’Cause you haven’t got anyone else to do itfor you, not anymore.”
That was true enough, but there wasn’t muchto say in response.“I’ll see you around, Sean.”
He turned and was almost to the sidewalk whenhe heard Sean call his name.“I’ll do what I can, Lukey.Okay?I’llsee what I can do.”
Sean was looking for something, but Lucaswasn’t sure what it was.And he wasn’t sure he’d be willing to giveit away if he did know.So he nodded and smiled.“Thanks, Sean.”And then he left.There was nothing more for him to say.
ChapterThirty-Two
Mark’s father had been moved around a bitearly in his hospital stay, but he’d been in the same room with thesame nurses for quite a while now, and the whole setup wasdepressingly familiar.
“Hey, Dad,” he said as he eased into the hardplastic chair by the bedside.Some days his father seemed fairlyaware, but this time it was hard to be sure if he was even awake.His eyes were open but that didn’t seem to mean as much as it wouldhave in the outside world.“Sorry I didn’t make it this morning.Iwas…” He was what?What story could he tell in order to avoidtelling the truth to this marginally conscious stranger?Moreimportantly, why should he bother?“I had a bit of trouble.Andthen after that…I could have come this afternoon.But I reallywanted…needed…I’m not sure which…to go see someone.Someone Iwanted to talk to about it.”
And talking to Lucashadhelped.Justbeing around him had helped.Being around the animals had beengood, too, and doing physical work instead of sitting and thinkingabout his problems… He was glad he’d gone to the farm.
And, he found, he was glad he was talking tohis father now.They’d never been “best friends” like some fathersand sons, but Mark had always respected his father and always feltrespected in return.It felt right to tell him the truth.
“Somebody smashed my window, and wrotesomething obscene on my door.The police think it’s related to thesituation with Scott Wilson.Not that I’ve told you much aboutthat…” But that could be remedied.Up to then, he’d been fillinghis father’s ears with mundane gossip, discussion of world events,and the occasional update on mutual acquaintances, although Mark’smother knew more about that than Mark did.But now, he was reallytalking, telling his father about his frustrations, his failings,and even his fears.He didn’t talk about Lucas, though, not byname.Mark was too confused about that himself.He didn’t think hehad a chance of putting it into words that his father would be ableto understand.Assuming his father was able to understand anythingMark was saying.
Maybe that uncertainty was what made itpossible for Mark to share so much.Or maybe he just had to talk tosomebody, and his father was the one who sat still long enough tohear it all.When he got tired of talking he leaned back in hischair.“So, that’s the scoop.I’m being stalked by violenthomophobes, I may be losing my job, and I no longer feel that Ibelong in the church that’s always been my second family.Also, Imay be sued by the angry father of a boy who doesn’t seem to wantmy help any more anyway.”And I’m finding myself strangely drawnto the man who killed your youngest son.
He was glad he hadn’t added the last bit whenhe heard the rustle of fabric from behind him and then his mother’sstringent voice.“What on earth is going on, Mark?What are youtalking about?”
He turned slowly and tried not to lookguilty.“Mom.Hi.Uh…how long were you there for?How much did youhear?”
“I sincerely hope I heard all of it.Ifthere’s more than what I heard, I think I’d better sit down.”
Well, maybe this wasn’t a totally bad thing.Maybe it was time he and his mother talked about something otherthan his father’s health.He gestured to the chair on the otherside of the bed.“Maybe you should sit down anyway.I guess weshould talk about some of this.”
“I’m already aware of some of it,” she saidarchly as she walked around the bed.“I heard about Scott Wilson’stirade at the grocery store, of all places.”She raised an eyebrowat her son.“I was able to make it seem as if I knew all about it,but please don’t put me in that position again.I should know thesethings before Linda Milton talks to me about them!”
That seemed fair.“I’m sorry.I was trying toprotect you from it all.You have enough on your plate, and…I guessI was hoping it would blow over.”
“But it isn’t?Mark, this is really serious?The business with Scott Wilson is bad enough, but your apartmentwas vandalized?That’s not something Scott Wilson would do,surely!”
“Probably not himself, no.The police arelooking into it.They think it might be someone who heard hisaccusations and decided to act on them.Otherwise it’s a pretty bigcoincidence that it’s all happening at the same time.”
She nodded thoughtfully.“Are you safe?Doyou want to come home for a bit?Your room is always ready, youknow that.”
