We Begin at the End(70)

He stood when others did.

And then he turned and saw the boy, Robin, holding the hand of a lady he did not recognize. The boy looked older, suddenly, like the child had once again been robbed by the pull of a trigger.

Behind them, she appeared, her dress dark and simple. She kept her eyes up and hard, challenging. She gazed around the church, people tried their best to smile sad smiles. She did not return any. She was not a child now.

When she saw him she stuttered, just one step, a reluctant memory, and then she was past.

As she sat at the front he saw the bow in her hair, tucked out of sight but it was there.

Behind her was a slight boy with glasses, and when the priest spoke and Robin began to cry the boy placed a hand on Duchess’s shoulder. She did not turn, just shook his hand from her.

After, Walk followed them back to the Radley farm.

Inside were sandwiches and cake. A lady who introduced herself as Dolly handed Walk a coffee.

Robin stood with the lady and looked as lost as a child ever had. He said no thank you when Dolly offered him a donut. He said no thank you when the lady asked him if he wanted to head up and take a last look at his bedroom.

Walk slipped out and crunched the snow, following small prints.

He found her at the stable, her back to him as she patted a handsome gray, her small hand on the horse’s nose. The horse bowed, nuzzled against her and she kissed it gently.

“You can leave now.” She did not turn. “You don’t need to stay longer. I see everyone in there, watching the clock. Like Hal would’ve wanted them in his house anyhow.”

He stepped beneath the arched roof. “I’m sorry.”

She raised a hand, it’s alright, fuck off, he didn’t know which and it did not matter much.

“There’s a kid in there, he keeps looking out for you.”

“Thomas Noble. He doesn’t know me, not really.”

“It’s important to have friends, right?”

“He’s a normal kid. Two parents. Makes good grades. Six weeks at their vacation home in Myrtle Beach each summer. We breathe different air.”

“Are you eating alright?”

“Are you? You look different, Walk. Where’s that soft gone?”

She wore only her dress but did not shiver.

“That lady at the church with Robin—” he started.

“Mrs. Price. That’s what she likes us to call her. In case we forget how temporary our place is. She came to show face.”

Walk met her eye for a moment, then she looked away.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck, Walk. Stop saying that. Hand we get dealt, right. Fate, resignation. There’s no difference.”

“They don’t teach that at church.”

“Free will is an illusion, sooner you accept the sooner you get on.”

“The farm?”

“I heard them talking. Hal had debts, it’ll go at auction and they’ll be cleared. Radley land. We’re all just caretakers.”

“And Robin?”

Sadness then, that only he could see, buried deep behind her eyes.

“He’s … he doesn’t speak now. He hasn’t said much but yes or no. They’ll try and place us, foster care till then. Mrs. Price, Mr. Price, they get paid to take us in. Feed us. Send us to bed at eight because they like their own time.”

“Christmas.” He regretted the word, like it had a place.

“Our case worker brought gifts. Mrs. Price, she didn’t leave nothing out for Robin.”

He swallowed.

She turned and patted the gray again. “She’ll get sold, unless someone wants her with the farm. I hope they don’t run her hard. She limps a little now, after that night.”

“She fell.”

“I fell,” she said, bitter. “It wasn’t on her. She’s a decent horse. She stayed with me, after, just there, beside me.”

The snow began to drift once again. He looked back at the farmhouse, the boy with glasses being led out by his mother, craning his neck to get a look at Duchess. He thought of Vincent and Star.

“Will you get to stay here, same school?”

“We have a woman, she works our case. That’s what we are now, Walk. A case. We are numbers and a file. A list of traits and mistakes.”

“You’re not a number. You’re an outlaw.”

“Maybe my father’s blood is so fucking weak it steals away the Radley. I’m not Star or Hal, Robin or Billy Blue. I am one night, one mistake, one reaction. I’m nothing more.”

“You can’t think that.”

She turned from him, like she was talking to the gray. “I’ll never know who I am.”

He looked across frozen land, the elk in numbers at the base of the mountain. “If you need me.”

“I know.”

“But still.”

“That old priest. He asked us the meaning of life one time, after service. The young kids, he asked us all in turn. Most talked about family and love.”

“And you?”

“I said nothing, because Robin was there.” She coughed. “But you know what Robin said?”

He shook his head.

“He said life means having somebody care enough to protect you.”