INTERLUDE V

Since coming back to Portsmouth, he had lived in Curt’s attic. It was stuffy, tiny, with a sleeping bag on the floor and not much else save boxes of junk and a low roof that meant he banged his head at least twice a day. There were two small windows at either end of the attic, and even though it had been a cool May, it got stiflingly hot in the afternoon. Once in the morning and once in the evening, Curt let him out to use the bathroom and to grab a bite to eat, as plans and plots moved ahead here in Portsmouth and other places.

This morning he tried to stretch out his legs and arms after waking up, when he heard movement in the hallway underneath him. He froze, wondering if Curt was back early, and then there was a flare of light as the trapdoor in the middle of the attic floor came up. He looked around frantically for something, anything, to grab as a weapon, then almost burst out laughing at his fear.

A well-dressed woman slowly came up through the square opening, her eyes blinking from the dust. “So there you are, as promised,” she said, smiling.

He knelt and took one of her hands in both of his. “My God, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I can’t stay long. I need to be at work. But here.” One of her hands went down and came back up with a brown grocery sack with twine handles. “Some more food. I know Curt is feeding you, but he’s a bachelor. This should be better. I’m sure what he gives you gets dull after a while.”

He picked up the bag and lowered it to the floor. Everything just seemed all right. The visitor before him was the prettiest thing he had seen in years.

“You doing all right?” he asked.

Her happy expression faltered. “I’m … I’m holding up. There’s a lot of danger out there. But it’s you I’m worried about. From what little I know about what you’re up against …”

He said, “That’s it. Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, worry about what we’re all doing. You do your job, I’ll do mine, and in the end, it will all work out.”

As she bit her lower lip, her eyes became weepy. “Okay, I hear you, but I’m still so scared for you.” She swiped at her eyes with one hand. “This is when … when I think about what might have been if you had been first to ask me out in high school instead of Sam. I know that’s a horrible thing to say … I mean, damn, I’m all mixed up. I just worry about you and miss you awful. And I think of you a lot.”

“Stop that,” he said. “If I had been with you back then, you would have been arrested, too. And you wouldn’t have that wonderful boy, my dear nephew. And my brother … he’s crazy about you. So please don’t say any more.”

She wiped her eyes again. He bent down, kissed the top of her head. “It’s all right. You get going now … and thanks. This was the best gift you could have given me.”

She smiled up at him through her tears. “It’s not much. Just some sandwiches and—”

“I wasn’t talking about the sandwiches. Now go.” She started to descend, and he thought of something. “Sarah?”

“Yes?” his sister-in-law asked.

“Stop thinking about the past, about what might have been. Think about the future. Toby … we’re doing this for Toby and the world he gets to grow up in. No matter what happens, no matter how much you and Sam and even I suffer, remember that.”

“I will,” she promised, and she closed the trapdoor, and the attic suddenly got dark again.

Amerikan Eagle
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