Don’t Let Me Go(35)

But of course he never did.

? ? ?

“Wait till I show you what I bought,” Grace said, the minute she bounded through his door. “I think they’re good, and I sure hope you think they’re good. The guy at the dance store said they were very good. Well, he said they were very good for the money. They were on sale. They used to cost over a hundred dollars, so that must be good, right? Because I didn’t even have that much to spend, but I could get them because they were on sale.” Then, before Billy could even answer, she said, “I’m worried about Mr. Lafferty. He wasn’t there last night, and he wasn’t there this morning before I went to school, and I just tried and he’s not there now. Why would he be gone so long? Where do you think he would go?”

“Oh,” Billy said.

Then a silence hung while he tried on some vague thoughts, all of which had been hanging around anyway, but none of which had yet been acknowledged.

“Billy,” she said. “Wake up. You’re not answering any of my questions.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I was just thinking.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Nothing, really.”

“Why, Billy Shine! I never thought you would be a great big liar!”

“Right,” he said. “Sorry. I guess I was a little bit worried about Mr. Lafferty, too.”

“But you don’t even like him.”

“So true. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Billy said, though he wasn’t sure at all. “Show me what you bought.”

“Guess who got me the gift certificate?”

“You found out?”

“Yup. Guess.”

“I can’t guess. Tell me.”

“Mr. Lafferty!”

“But you said you haven’t seen him.”

“Right. I haven’t.”

“So how do you know?”

“The guy at the dance store told me. You were right, it was a man. You said it would be a man I was supposed to trust at the dance store, and you were right. Anyway, he was the same guy who sold Mr. Lafferty the gift certificate. He said he just sold it to him yesterday. He didn’t say the name Mr. Lafferty, but he said it was a guy, kind of older but not real old, and he said the guy was very grumpy and rude.”

“Yup. That’s Mr. Lafferty,” Billy said.

“Close your eyes and I’ll show you.”

Billy closed his eyes. And, while they were closed, his mind slid softly back to the previous night. He heard Rayleen ask, “You don’t suppose these two things are connected?” and he knew, now, what she had meant. She had meant the gift certificate and the gunshot. Maybe part of him had even known it at the time.

He smelled the new leather of the shoes, close to his face.

“OK, open your eyes!”

He opened his eyes, and melted inside.

“They’re black,” Grace said, as if he couldn’t see that. “Do you think black is good?”

“It’s perfect. It goes with everything.”

“That’s what the man said. And he said they have a forced toe box.”

“Forced?”

“Something like that.”

“Reinforced?”

“Maybe. He said it makes you more…I forget, but it’s good.”

“Stable?”

“Yeah, I think so. And he said you can even change the sound — you know, bigger taps or smaller taps — but I’m not sure how, but maybe you can show me. He had some others, with more like bows, like ones with wide ties, but yours are lace-up, so I thought I should get lace-up; and besides, those weren’t on sale, so they weren’t worth a lot more than I paid. Do you like them?”

“Very much.”

He took another deep breath, filling his sinuses and lungs with their aroma. It made him feel the tiniest bit dizzy, but in a pleasant way. In a melting way.

We learned something new today, he thought, but did not say out loud. We learned that one’s first pair of tap shoes are always magic, even if they aren’t our first pair.

He looked up to see Rayleen standing in the doorway.

“Maybe we should call the landlord,” Billy said to Rayleen. “And ask him to check on…things.”

“Right,” Rayleen said. “Things. I’ve been a little worried about things, myself.”





Grace



The next time Grace walked upstairs to try to talk to Mr. Lafferty, there was some man she didn’t know standing out in the hall. He was very tall and fat, and he was wearing coveralls, and holding a cigar in his teeth, but it wasn’t even burning. Thank God, Grace thought, because she hated the smell of burning cigars worse than anything. The man was talking to Felipe, who was leaning in the open doorway of his own apartment.

Grace could hear part of what he was telling Felipe as she walked down the hall.

“…and the floorboards might even have to come up, or maybe we could just cut out some of the boards and put in a patch, because we’re gonna have to slap a new carpet over it anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what it looks like. And one wall’ll have to be professionally cleaned and then repainted.”

“Hi,” Grace said, now standing about two steps from the man’s knee.