The First Stone (22 page)

He was still mulling over that question when Leeza arrived.

He carefully lifted the newspaper from his lap and laid it on Stephen's table, then eased himself up from the chair. The vinyl seatpad made an embarrassing sucking sound as he peeled himself off it. He colored, shrugged his shoulders in an it-wasn't-me motion, and moved quietly to the door.

Out in the hall, he felt suddenly awkward, unsure what to say, the events of the previous afternoon suddenly a lifetime ago. What did he know about talking to girls like her? He looked over her head for signs of Carly or Brett, saw none. Cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said finally. Like he was twelve.

“Hi.”

He could tell she felt the same awkwardness, and it made him think about Bigger's dog, Ripper, the ugliest mutt on the planet. Reef had never had a pet, didn't know what everyone else knew about dogs, and the first time he'd seen Ripper, he'd made the mistake of patting him right away. Hadn't waited for the dog to sniff him first, look him over. Since then, Reef hadn't been able to drop by Bigger's house without the animal snarling at him, then slinking off when Bigger told him to shut the fuck up. The dog didn't trust him.

He wondered if people could be like that. Wondered if too much too soon made a difference, if maybe Leeza was wary of him now.

Then again, she was no dog. Not by a long shot.

“So.” They'd both said it. At exactly the same time. Then they were laughing, and Reef felt the easiness of the previous day settle around them.

“Had lunch yet?” Leeza asked.

Reef shook his head. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

Reef looked at the hall clock over her head to confirm what she'd said. He'd lost all track of time. Probably because of that article in the paper.

“You want to grab a bite in the cafeteria?” she asked. He thought about Bigger's dog again, wondered if maybe he was making a mistake.
Fuck it
, he thought. “How'd you like some real food?” he asked.

Carly had made them promise to be back by two o'clock, but Reef had called from a pay phone and asked for an extension—he'd taken Leeza to the Public Gardens and time had seemed to melt there in the hot August sun.

Despite her mother's encouragement, Leeza hadn't been outside the rehab once; now she regretted all the time she'd spent indoors. The ride wasn't comfortable, her wheelchair on the pathways joggled her uncomfortably from side to side, but Reef was very careful. It took a lot out of her, but not nearly as much as it would have if Val hadn't been driving her so hard in physio. And besides, she loved seeing all the flowers in bloom, grass and hedges neatly trimmed, kids feeding the ducks bits of bread, street artists' sketches and paintings pinned on lines strung along the fence around the gardens. By the time they left, both of their stomachs were complaining loudly.

Reef had some trouble maneuvering her chair across the busy intersection at Spring Garden and South Park.

The “Walk” sign flashed for only a few moments, and they were barely halfway across when the hand lit up, making it necessary for Reef to push the wheelchair faster, jiggling Leeza painfully. Getting the chair up onto the sidewalk and in through the Dairy Queen entrance was even trickier—Reef had expected people to be more polite, but several had rushed past them before a woman stopped and held the door open so they could enter. Reef seethed at the idiots who ignored them. Then suddenly remembered how he'd looked away from the patients Brett had introduced him to. Pretended they weren't there. He shrugged the thought away.
You think too much
, he told himself.

“You sure you want to do this?” asked Leeza as she scanned the menu on the wall behind the counter. The pain in her pelvis and leg had begun to talk to her, reminding her it was still there, stretching its claws under the morphine. Waiting. Just so she knew: it wasn't going anywhere.

Business at the Dairy Queen on Spring Garden Road was brisk, and there were several people in the line in front of them. A few of them turned to glance at Leeza, her wheelchair, the blanket that bulged over her fixators, but meeting Reef's dark scowl was enough to turn them face forward again. Fast.

“Yeah,” Reef said. He still had money left over from his Social Services check, even after paying for the glass panel he'd broken, and DQ had to be a whole lot better than tuna sandwiches in the rehab cafeteria.

“What're you having?” she asked.

“Two cheeseburgers,” Reef said. His stomach warbled in agreement. “Maybe three if this line don't move any faster,” he said.

Leeza stared up at the pictures on the menu with something resembling reverence on her face. “Fast food never looked so good,” she said. “I think I'll have one too.” Then added, “With fries.”

“Anything to drink?”

“D'you suppose the milkshakes here are as healthy as the ones at the rehab?”

Reef smiled. “Prob'ly better we don't know.”

They'd wanted to eat outside, but it would have been difficult for Leeza to balance food on her lap so they ate in the restaurant looking out at the people walking past. Reef watched as another person in a wheelchair—this one a young man by himself—crossed the busy intersection and rolled up onto the sidewalk. He thought suddenly about that girl, Elizabeth Morrison, and couldn't help wondering where she was, what she was doing. More thoughts. He pushed them aside, chewed on his second cheeseburger.

“Mmm,” Leeza said. “I forgot how good this stuff tasted.”

“Beats Alex's cooking,” said Reef without thinking. When she asked who Alex was, he told her briefly about North Hills, about it being a home for teenaged boys. She didn't press him for more, and somehow he knew she believed he lived there because he had nofamily. He hadn't lied. But it was the first time he'd been bothered by not telling the whole truth.

He told her, though, how duties at North Hills were divided up, how Alex was in charge of meals that week and Reef had grown tired of trying to identify the concoctions he had been serving them lately.
Haute cuisine
Alex called his dishes, but some of them might just as well have been fried hat. The evening before, Alex had experienced what he called a Martha Stewart Moment and flounced into the dining room carrying a large tray of canapés. Except Reef thought he'd said “canopies” and was sure Alex had served up bits of the old awning that hung over the back deck. When he made a comment to that effect, even Colville laughed, breaking his own “Respect others” rule. He suspended punishment for everyone's infraction that night and took them all out to McDonald's. Of course, Reef left out the part about what happened later.

“This Alex sounds like quite the character.” Leeza said.

“He's one of a kind, all right,” Reef said, his voice toneless. He turned away, saw the menu on the back wall and thought again of that meal at McDonald's. Over their supersized meals, they'd all started laughing again about Alex's cooking. Reef had asked Alex if he felt another Martha Moment coming on as he was scarfing down his Big Mac. Owen had nearly choked on a McNugget. which set everyone off again, and Alex had responded by batting his eyes and asking Reef—in his breathiest diva voice—if his Quarter Pounder needed some of Alex's extra special sauce. The guys howled, all of them except Reef, who jumped up, grabbed Alex by the collar and roared, “You can shove your goddamn special sauce up your faggot ass.” Which pretty much ended the meal.

This one was over too. Reef could tell Leeza was tired and, judging from the lines on her forehead, in a fair amount of pain. He picked up their empty food containers and napkins and put them into the appropriate bins. Returning to Leeza, he unlocked the brakes on her wheelchair and rolled her toward the exit. This time, a kid about seven years old jumped up and held the door open for them.

Once outside, Leeza thanked Reef for the meal. “No problem,” he said, and she smiled at him, the kind of smile you saw on lottery billboards. Reef felt something let go inside.

“Jeez, that intersection,” she said, looking at the cars waiting for the green.

Reef was glad she'd spoken. Otherwise he wouldn't have moved, would have continued to stand there like an idiot. “You wanna try crossin' the street on your own this time?” he asked. It was a ridiculous question, but the only thing he could think of to say.

She shook her head. “Maybe we'll save that for another day.”

Another day
. Reef liked the sound of that. Liked it a lot. He reached for the handles on the back of the wheelchair and eased her forward.

“I was beginning to think I should send out a search party for you two,” said Brett. She was lying on her bed reading a magazine when Reef rolled Leeza into the room. Leeza, however, knew she was only pretending to read. Her favorite soap was on at that moment, and any other weekday she'd have been planted in front of the third-floor big-screen TV. Brett obviously had been waiting. For more details.

“Hi, Brett,” Reef said.

“Hi, Reef. I hear you finally got the vampire here out in the sunshine. And it didn't kill her after all.”

He grinned self-consciously. “No, it didn't.”

Leeza looked up at him. “You want to sit for a bit?” she asked, then grimaced.

“I'd like to, but my ride'll be here in a minute,” Reef said. He'd noticed the hall clock and was amazed at how much time had passed. “Thanks anyway. I'll see you, okay?”

Leeza smiled at him. “Okay.”

“See you, Brett.” And he was gone.

“You want to sit for a hit
?” Brett echoed teasingly. “Could you have sounded
more
like a senior citizen, girl?”

Leeza's face was pained, and not just from the latenessof her morphine shot. “I know, I know,” she groaned, tapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Shoot me now.”

Brett pulled herself up onto her elbow. “You had a good time?”

Leeza nodded. “The best. He doesn't talk a lot, but he's a great listener. And the funny thing is, I don't think he even knows it.”

They listened for a moment themselves as Stephen began to wail, the sound threading itself through the rooms along the hall until, unexpectedly, he fell silent.

“Did Reef tell you why he was volunteering here?”

“I didn't ask, but I think it's because of some program at this place where he lives.” Leeza told Brett about North Hills.

“Jeez. An orphan,” Brett breathed. “Rough. I can see why you didn't ask.”

Leeza nodded.

“Did you talk to him about your accident?”

“You know, I was going to. He asked me about it, but I thought if I told him he might think I was some weird media freak. All that stuff in the paper.” She shook her head. “Besides, I suddenly realized that I've spent the last three weeks thinking about nothing else. I want to put it behind me and move on. No sense dwelling on something you can't change, is there?”

“Wow,” Brett said.

“What?”

“I can't believe what I'm hearing. Someone should'vetaken you outside
weeks
ago. Did you a world of good, girl.” She grinned. “You know, I'd have pushed you out myself if I coulda got one of these windows open.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Leeza.

“Hey, I'd have given you my parachute.”

“That's what I was afraid of.”

Stephen began to wail again, but this time his cries were drowned out by Brett and Leeza's laughter.

“You trying to get all your volunteer time done this summer?” Colville asked as he eased the truck to a stop in front of the rehab. “This is your fifth time this week.”

Reef pulled up on the handle and swung the door open. “That a problem?” he asked as he got out. His face had that hard-edged look, like the rim of a mirror, one you'd only hang on the back of a door.

“That's not what I meant,” Colville said.

The door thunked shut. “I can take the bus.”

“It was a joke, Reef.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Reef heard Colville begin to say something else but he kept walking, triggered the automatic sliding doors and went inside.

“You're cheating!” Leeza shouted, reaching across the table and checking the pile of discards.

Brett was laughing so hard she was holding her sides, but looking at Reef's expression of wide-eyed innocence only made things worse. “Busted, buddy,” she managed to gasp.

“Look, I can't help it if you two play poker like ol' ladies.” Reef reached out and pulled the tangle of toothpicks toward him, adding them to the already considerable pile on his side of the table. “A full house beats two pair every time.”

He hadn't been cheating, which was a first for Reef, since he was so good at it. Had, in fact, cheated in nearly every game he'd played with Bigger and Jink, often just using the simple double-up, sandwiching extra cards into his hand. It took nimble fingers to do it, and more than a little nerve when you were playing with Jink. Reef liked to win.