The First Stone (23 page)

But he hadn't been cheating here. Hadn't, in fact, even thought to. For the first time in a very long while—since he'd played cards with his grandmother—Reef found himself just enjoying the game. Winning wasn't the thing that kept him sitting at the table. Nor were his assigned hours bringing him back to the rehab day after day. It was being with Leeza. There was something about her that he couldn't get enough of. There wasn't a moment when he didn't find her on his mind. Couldn't do anything without wondering what she'd think about it. Like the greenhouse. It was finished now, and he'd, thought that week about how he'd like to show it to her, how he'd like her to see what he'd done. Wondered if it might be possible. Sometime.

But it wasn't just the greenhouse. It was stupid stuff, too. He'd be doing the dishes at North Hills, orvacuuming, and he'd catch himself wondering if this was the way she'd dry silverware, or if that was the way she'd use the Hoover on stairs. Like any of that shit really mattered.

But somehow it
did
matter. Everything about her mattered to him. He wondered about what she'd been like as a kid, what her favorite things were, what she liked to do when she was alone. And afraid. He'd never known he could ask so many questions. And she'd answered all of them. All but one. What had brought her here.

He hadn't pressed her about it. The more time he spent with her, the less he wanted to think about what had brought
him
here.

Of course, in the last few days she'd had questions of her own, and he'd told her some of what his life had been like, the foster homes, the moving around. About Bigger and Jink, about some of the trouble they'd gotten into. Mostly, though, it was just stuff that made her laugh. He'd left out things she'd never understand, things that maybe even he didn't understand completely now.

So yeah, he could accept it if there were one or two things she didn't want to share. He'd considered asking somebody about her accident—Brett, maybe, or one of the nurses—but somehow it didn't seem right, that if Leeza wanted him to know she'd tell him in her own time. Like his being at the rehab. She'd just assumed that volunteering was something people at North Hills did, and he hadn't told her any different. Didn't know how he could, if it came to that. Shuddered at what she'd think if she knew.

Because she did something to him. Made him want to be better somehow. Made him think, maybe, that he
was
better. Better than he'd been, anyway.

He'd tried to tell Owen about her a couple nights ago, tried to tell him who she was, what she was like. But Owen had looked at him like he'd suddenly grown an extra head, and he'd felt like a moron even bringing it up. Changed the subject. Because he really didn't understand it himself. Had never felt like this before.

It wasn't like he was in love, or anything like that. Who fell in love any more, anyway? Love was for soap operas and “I Dream of Jeannie” episodes. And deaf girls who got knocked up and left behind.

But he liked being with her. Liked the sound of her voice, how her eyes traveled over his face when he talked, the way her nose crinkled when she pretended to be mad. Like right now.

“Okay,” Leeza said, as she stopped riffling through the discards, “I give up. What's your secret?”

“Reef, can I have a word with you?”

All three turned to see Shelly Simpson, the volunteer coordinator, standing in the doorway of the sixth-floor lounge. She wasn't wearing her usual smile, and the grin on Reef's face evaporated. “Right now?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said. She stepped back into the hall.

Reef looked at Brett and Leeza. “Don't anyone touch my toothpicks,” he warned them as he stood up. “I'll be back in a minute.”

But it would be more than a minute before he saw them again. Much more.

“Do they know any details?” Reef asked. He was pacing back and forth in Colville's office, his hands clenching and unclenching as he moved. Shelly Simpson had phoned for a taxi even before coming to find him and delivering Colville's message to return to North Hills. He'd jumped out even before the taxi had pulled to a complete stop, then raced up the steps, knowing what had happened. Hoping it wasn't true, but still knowing.

Colville sat in a chair across from the one Reef had been sitting in a few moments earlier. “Just what I told you. They found him down near the waterfront this morning.”

“Near Rowdy's, right?” Reef's voice was low and even, but he was sure Colville could hear the tremor beneath the words. He cursed himself in his head. Colville, too.

“A couple blocks from there. But the police haven't established a connection—”

Reef's snort cut him off. “Connection my ass. That was payback. Rowdy has a long memory,” he said, referringto the liquor license the city had revoked. He knew he should have called Jink the day he saw that news article. But he was sure Jink knew—how could he not? And what could he have said? Told him to be careful? Right. Only pussies and queers needed to be careful. Jink was invincible.

Except he wasn't.

“He's stable.” Colville said quietly.

“When'll he be outta the hospital?”

Colville didn't answer right away and Reef stopped pacing. Stood in front of the seated man, waiting.

“I'm not sure,” Colville finally replied. “I doubt if anyone knows at this point.” When Reef resumed pacing, he continued, “Look, I know Jink is like family to you. Greg knows too, which is why he's arranged to take you to the hospital. But you need to be prepared for whatever—”

Just then the office phone rang. Colville reached for it. “North Hills. Colville here.” He listened briefly. “Just a minute,” he said, then turned to Reef. “It's for you. I'll give you some privacy.” He handed Reef the receiver and left the office, closing the door behind him.

“Hello?” Reef said.

“Jesus, Reef, isn't it awful?” Scar's, voice was too small for the room, for the receiver in Reef's hand. In the background, he heard Bigger's voice. He wasn't making words, just sounds, like syllables in a blender, their ends clipped off, each one running into the next. He was drunk. And he was crying.

“I just heard,” Reef said. “You there with him now?”

“We were,” she said. “They asked us to leave when Bigger wouldn't settle down.”

“How is he?”

“Oh, Reef, if you saw him you wouldn't recognize him. His face is all …” And then she was crying, too.

There was another wail in the background, followed by a new stream of syllables that Reef could tell was a threat. Or a promise.

“I wish you were here, Reef.”

“I will be. Matheson's comin' to get me.”

As if on cue, Matheson's Escort turned into the driveway. Miraculously, it wasn't much louder than the other cars that passed by on the street, but blue smoke still plumed behind it like a peacock in full fan.

“He's here now,” Reef said. “I'll see you in a few minutes.” He dropped the receiver without waiting for a reply.

Scar and Bigger met him at the hospital entrance.

“The bitches won't let me
in!
“ Bigger wailed, his huge voice drawing the attention of everyone entering and leaving.

Greg Matheson tried to put an arm around Bigger's shoulder but gave up because of the teenager's bulk and guided him to a chair just inside the entrance. Matheson looked up at Reef. “I'll take care of him. You and Scar go see about Jink.”

Reef nodded, took Scar's hand and pulled her toward the bank of elevators ahead of them. “Which floor?” he asked, pushing both the
up
and
down
buttons.

“Seventh,” she said. She'd let go of his hand and was hugging her arms around her.

Two of the elevators opened at the same time. They stepped into the one closer to them and Reef pushed 7, then realized it was going down. “Fuck!” he said, and two women already in the elevator exchanged looks, moved slightly away from him.

The elevator went down one floor, the women got off, and then it headed back up, only to stop again on the main level, where three more people got on. Each person was going to a different floor, none higher than the fifth. By the time the elevator reached the seventh floor, Reef was ready to kick the control panel off the goddamn wall.

They hurried down the hallway, Scar leading the way to the Intensive Care Unit. When they got there, a woman behind the nurses' station came around to meet them. “Can I help you?” she asked, but Reef could see in her eyes something more than a desire to help. Suspicion, maybe. And fear.

“We're here to see Jink.” Reef said.

Scar spoke up. “Stanley Eisner. I was here before.”

The nurse nodded. “I remember you. Is your friend—?”

“No,” she said quickly. “He's downstairs. He won't cause any more trouble.”

“Like I told you and your friend before,” the nurse continued, “only members of the immediate family can see patients in ICU.”

“I'm family,” Reef said. “I'm his brother.”

The nurse gave him a long look. “Brother you say?” She reached behind her and pulled a chart from the carousel on the counter, flipped through it, looked up. “His mother was here earlier. She didn't say anything about a brother.”

Reef leaned toward her. “I'm his brother,” he repeated slowly, then turned to Scar. “And she's his half-sister. On his father's side.”

The nurse looked at them both, seemed about to say something, then shrugged. “Five minutes, that's all. And if there's even the
hint
of a disturbance, I'm calling Security.”

“Thank you,” Scar whispered.

The nurse led them through a sliding glass door into a room with four beds. Only two of them were occupied; the one containing Jink was set against the far wall. Tubes entered his body at various places including his mouth and nose. At least, Reef assumed they were his mouth and nose. His face was a swollen purple mass that bore no resemblance to Jink's real features, and Reef could see that the bruises and swelling extended to other parts of his body, many of them covered in bandages. A monitor beside the bed beeped at regular intervals, and a bag of clear liquid drained down a tube into Jink's arm.

“Christ,”
Reef said when the nurse had left them alone.

Scar choked back sobs. “I saw him through the glass before,” she said, her voice a strangled gulp, “but up close …” She began to cry.

Reef took her hand and squeezed it. “Just think what the
other
guys must look like,” he said.

They both tried to force a smile but failed. Stood there listening to the beep of the monitor, tried not to see the snarl of tubes their friend had become.

Colville met Reef on the veranda. “How is he?”

“You were right. No one knows anything for sure. Not yet, anyway.” Reef went inside and headed for the stairs.

Colville followed him. “How're
you
doing?” he asked softly.

Reef just looked at him.

“Everyone's in the family room,” Colville continued. “Come on in.” “Look,” Reef said, “give me a break.” Colville paused, seemed about to say something, then nodded. “If you change your m—”

“Right,” Reef interrupted, taking the stairs two at a time.

He got to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, his feet tracing the pattern of the oval rug over and over. He got up and moved to one of the turrets, stoodlooking out the window, his fingers tugging unconsciously at the curtains. He ran a hand over his forehead, rubbed his eyes, put both hands in his pockets, took them out and crossed his arms.

“Can I come in?”

Reef turned to see Alex in the doorway.
Christ
, he thought, turned again to the window. “Whadda
you
want?”

“Sorry to hear about your friend,” Alex offered. “So's everyone else.”

Reef just nodded.

Alex entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “You want to talk about it?”

“No. I don't.”

“Are you sure?”

His back to Alex, Reef made a sound that could have been a snort or a cough or a clearing of the throat. Then, “I'm skippin' the family room sharin' shit tonight, okay?”

“You know, it helps to say what you're fee—”

“Look, you may like all that garbage, but I don't.”

“Why not?” asked Alex.

Reef swung around to face him. “Because it's nobody's goddamn business,
that's
why!”

“What are you afraid of?”

Reef took the three steps from the window to the bed, his face dark and twisted. “I ain't afraid ‘a
nothin'!
You
got
that, you little freak?”

“That's denial, Reef,” Alex replied calmly. “Naming it's the first step in facing it.”