Defending Jacob(54)

“Was Ben teasing Jacob?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t, like, only Ben. Don’t take this the wrong way, but Jacob isn’t exactly in the cool crowd.”

“No? What crowd is he in?”

“I don’t know. He’s not really in a crowd. He’s just kind of nothing. It’s hard to explain. Jacob’s kind of like a cool geek, I’d say, only there kind of isn’t really such a thing. Does that make sense?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s like there’s jocks? He definitely isn’t one of those. And there’s smart kids? Only he isn’t really smart enough to be one of them either. I mean, he’s smart, okay?, but he isn’t like that smart. It’s like you need to have a thing, you know? You need to play an instrument or be on a team or be in a play or whatever, or like be ethnic or lesbian or retarded or something—not that there’s anything wrong with those things. It’s just, like, if you don’t have any of those things then you’re just kind of one of those kids, you know? Like just a regular kid, and nobody knows what to call you—you’re nothing, but not in a bad way. And that’s kind of like what Jacob was, you know? He was just like a regular kid. Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.”

“Really?”

“Yes. What are you, Sarah? What’s your ‘thing’?”

“I don’t have one. Same as Jacob. I’m nothing.”

“But not in a bad way.”

“That’s right.”

“Well, I don’t want to get all Cliff Huxtable here, but I don’t think you’re nothing.”

“Who’s Cliff Huxtable?”

“Never mind.”

Across the street, people stole glances at us as they went in and out of Starbucks, though it was not clear if they recognized me. Maybe I was being paranoid.

“I just want to say, like”—she searched around for the words—“I think it’s really cool what you’re trying to do? Like trying to prove Jacob innocent and all? You seem like a really good dad. Only Jacob isn’t like you. You know that, don’t you?”

“No? Why?”

“Just, like, his manner? He’s kind of quiet? He’s really shy? I’m not saying he’s a bad kid. I mean, not at all. But he doesn’t have a lot of friends, y’know? He has, like, his little circle? Like Derek and that kid Josh? (That kid is totally weird, by the way. I mean, like, totally random.) But Jacob doesn’t really have a lot of friends in, like, his network. I mean, I guess he likes it that way, y’know? Which is okay, it’s totally fine. I’m not saying anything. It’s just like, there must be a lot going on inside there, in his—y’know, inside. I just, I don’t know if he’s happy.”

“Does he seem unhappy to you, Sarah?”

“Yeah, a little. But I mean, everyone’s unhappy, right? I mean sometimes?”

I didn’t answer.

“You need to talk to Derek. Derek Yoo? He knows more about all this than I do.”

“Right now I’m talking to you, Sarah.”

“No, go talk to Derek. I don’t want to get in the middle of it, you know? Derek and Jacob have been really tight, like, since they were little kids. I’m sure Derek can tell you more than I can. I mean, I’m sure he’ll want to help Jacob. He’s like Jacob’s best friend.”

“Why don’t you want to help Jacob, Sarah?”

“I do want to. I just, I don’t really know. I don’t know enough about it. But Derek does.”

I wanted to pat her on the hand or the shoulder or something, but that sort of fatherly contact has been drummed out of us. So I tipped my paper cup toward her in a sort of toast, and I said, “There’s something we always asked when we ended an interview in my old job: is there anything you think I ought to know that I didn’t ask about? Anything at all?”

“No. Not that I can think of.”

“You’re sure?”

She held up her pinkie. “Promise.”

“Okay, Sarah, thank you. I know Jacob’s probably not the most popular kid right now, and I think it’s very brave of you to talk to me like this.”

“It’s not brave. If it was brave, I wouldn’t do it. I’m not a brave person. It’s more like, I like Jake. I mean, I don’t know about the case and all that? But I used to like Jake, you know, like before. He was a good kid.”

“Is. Is a good kid.”

“Is. Right.”

“Thanks.”

“You know what, Mr. Barber? I bet you had like a really good father. Because, you know, you’re like a really good father, so I bet you had a good father who kind of taught you. Am I right?”

Jesus, didn’t this kid read the papers?

“Not exactly,” I said.

“Not exactly but close?”

“I didn’t have a father.”

“Stepfather?”

I shook my head.

“Everybody has a father, Mr. Barber. Except, like, God or something.”

“Not me, Sarah.”

“Oh. Well, then, maybe that’s kind of a good thing. Just, like, take fathers totally out of the equation.”