A Different Blue(148)

records for me. It was after the day I talked to you after class, after the whole 'I don't know

who I am bit.'”

“It wasn't a bit.” I said, stung.

“Yeah, luv. I know,” he said softly and dropped a long kiss on my frowning mouth. And then we

became entangled in each other, forgetting the discussion altogether until the doorbell chimed

and we jerked apart, laughing a little as we did.

“Food's here!” We both raced for the door.

It wasn't until we had dug into the cashew chicken and the sweet and sour pork that I circled

back to his confession.

“So you pulled my records . . . and what did you find?”

Wilson swallowed and took a big slug of milk. “I didn't know what I was dealing with then. You

were a hard case, Echohawk. Did you know there's a police record in your file?”

I froze, my spoon paused between mouth and bowl. “What?”

“When your father's body was found they re-opened your case – or what little anyone knew.

There were some efforts to find out who your mother was, for obvious reasons. Your father was

officially dead, and someone thought it important to make another attempt to locate your mother.

There wasn't much in the file. I'm not sure why the school even had a copy except that you are a

legal ward of the state, at least you were until you turned eighteen. There was an officer's

name on the file. I made note of it, I don't know why. Maybe it was the odd name, Izzard. Does

that ring any bells?”

I nodded, resuming my meal. “He was one of the officers who initially found me, so to speak,

after my dad went missing.” We ate in silence. “They called me. The lab, in Reno? They called.

The results are back.”

Wilson stared at me, his fork paused on the way to his mouth, prompting me to continue.

“They want me to come back. They said they have a match. They will show me everything. I've

known for two weeks now. Part of me wants to get in the car right now and head to Reno. Part of

me can't wait. But the other part, the part that belongs to Jimmy? That part doesn't want to

know. He was all I had, and I don't want to let him go. I don't want to know something that will

change the way I feel about him, that will change our history.”

I thought about how that small act of kindness to a hungry little girl had brought destiny to

Jimmy Echohawk's doorstep and how he had paid for his compassion in a way only Karma can craft.

One small act and he opened himself up to a mother's desperation and found himself in a position

where he became responsible for a child who was even more alone in the world than he was.

“ And I worry that what I find out will be ugly and . . . scary. I'm really tired of ugly, as

you are well aware. It's going to hurt. It's going to rip me open. And I'm tired of that, too.

What kind of woman does what she did? What kind of mother? A big part of me doesn't want to know

who she is or anything about her.”

We sat silently, my words surrounding us like graffiti on the walls, unavoidable and glaring,

destroying the peace that had been between us. Wilson put down his fork and rested his chin on

his steepled fist.

“Don't you think it's time to put an end to this?” Same words as before, entirely different

context.

“An end to what?” I said my line.