Passing through Perfect (Wyattsville #3)(60)

Sometimes a single moment came and went in a person’s life. It was there and then it wasn’t. It was a moment that belonged to the present but stretched far into the future. Such a moment could change everything. Sidney thought back to the day Hurt McAdams walked into the store and pulled out a gun. It happened almost two years ago, but it was still right there in the forefront of his mind.

The morning had started out as ordinary as all those that came before it; then Sid looked up and saw the flash of gun coming from McAdams’ pocket. Standing to the side with the “Help Wanted” sign in his hand, Paul had seen it too. He lunged for the gun just as Sidney grabbed his rifle from beneath the counter and fired.

What if Paul had hesitated? What if he’d turned back to look for the baby sister he’d left sitting on the bench across the street? What if he’d ducked down to save himself? He’d done none of those things; instead he’d stretched his arm out and grabbed for the gun. In doing so he saved Sidney’s life.

Sometimes life provided opportunities to reach out and make a difference, and when that happened a man worth his salt had to step up to the challenge.

That thought was churning through Sidney’s mind when he came up behind Benjamin and said, “When you finish that, let’s grab a cup of coffee.”

Benjamin turned and smiled.





Sidney





All men have pride. It doesn’t matter if you’re on the lowest rung of life or at the top of the ladder. Take away a man’s pride and he’s got nothing. That’s why I have to charge Benjamin for staying here.

I tried explaining there’s not enough money in the world to pay someone for saving your boy’s life, but Benjamin didn’t see it that way. He saw it as charity. When a person’s needy, he tends to think that way.

From what I can see it doesn’t look like they’ve got a whole lot of possessions, but Benjamin certainly has got a lot of pride.

The funny thing is that while I disagree with his way of thinking, I’ve got to respect the man. He’s looking to make a better life for his son, and that’s something you simply can’t argue with.





Talk of Babies & Bombers





It was early afternoon when Paul hobbled into the store, a leather brace on his leg and a plaster cast on his arm. The rain had already started, and Carmella walked alongside him stretching her arm in the air to hold a small red umbrella over his head. They had the look of a pair of mismatched socks, one stretched out long and skinny, the other shrunk to half its size.

Sid and Benjamin were both behind the counter, laughing like they’d shared some kind of joke. “I never would a’ guessed it,” Benjamin said and gave another chuckle.

“Guessed what?” Carmella asked.

Sidney gave a guilty grin “I was telling Benjamin about that time we passed through Alabama on our way home from Arthur’s bar mitzvah.”

“Oh, Sidney,” she groaned. “That story’s twenty years old. It wasn’t funny then, and it still isn’t funny.”

“Okay, maybe it wasn’t funny then,” Sidney said, “but looking back it’s funny.”

They chatted for a few minutes, and then Carmella convinced Sidney to take the afternoon off.

“Benjamin and Paul can handle things,” she said, rationalizing that it was a rainy afternoon and the store wasn’t going to be that busy. “Besides,” she added, “I’ve got a few things I need you to do at home.”

Once Sidney disappeared out the door, Paul lowered himself onto the stool behind the register and Benjamin went back to filling in empty spots on the store shelves. Other than a couple of questions as to what went where and the few chores that needed to be done, there was little conversation.

After everything was unpacked and shelved, Benjamin broke down the cardboard boxes and tied them for the trash collector. By mid-afternoon there wasn’t a thing left to do, and that’s when he and Paul settled into long stretches of conversation.

“How’d you come to meet Mister Sidney?” Benjamin asked.

Paul gave a sad little laugh. “He shot me.”

It was one of those funny but not funny moments. Paul went on to tell of how he’d walked in looking for a job and got caught up in a robbery.

“The shooter got away,” he said, “but Uncle Sid and I ended up in the hospital, neither one of us able to tell what happened. The police figured I was in on the robbery, so once I regained consciousness they arrested me.”

“Why you didn’t say you was innocent?”

“I didn’t remember. I didn’t even know who I was until the detective brought Jubilee in to see me. He was a friend of Olivia Doyle, the woman caring for Jubilee. She called him and said Jubilee was looking for a brother who’d disappeared the day of the robbery. He put two and two together and got to thinking it might be me.”

“Whew,” Benjamin said. “You’re lucky to find a detective what listened.” He hadn’t intended to tell Paul or anyone else what happened with Sheriff Haledon, but once they began talking it spilled out like rainwater from a leaky barrel.

Tragedy is a thing to be shared, and as they sat there listening to the rain pinging against the window he told the whole of it: how in the dark of night he’d spied on Luke Garrett and reported his findings to the deputy.