Candy Kid
Page 23
“Does it matter? He’s gone.” He released Francisca now. She wouldn’t run. Not until she was sure el Greco was across the border.
“You have the lists?”
Jose emptied his sticky pockets on the coffee table. “There’s one. On film. You eat the rest of the stuff. There may be more. It’s important?”
“Yes. We think so. The names of some troublemakers who have come over the bridge. And some who are planning to come.” Harrod began to bite into the remaining pieces. “Adam was a stationmaster.”
“Adam?” Lou’s voice caught.
“Drink the brandy,” Jose said sharply. To Harrod, “Where is he?”
“Headed south. I talked to him before he left. He knew I couldn’t force him to cross the bridge. We may be a long time getting him. But it doesn’t matter. He’s no use any more.”
“Rags?”
“He’d already skipped. He’s not important. He didn’t know anything. Just did odd jobs for Adam.”
“Adam,” Lou trembled again.
“Why, Harrod?” Jose cried. “Why did he do it?”
Harrod said heavily, “How do we know? How does any man know what motivates any other man? We keep our thoughts in secret places. Maybe he really believed his side was working for peace. Maybe by the time he found out different, he was in too deep. Or maybe he’s never found out different.” He’d bit on another roll of film. He spat it into his hand. He said, “Nice to have known you, Aragon. Any time you want to get into harness again, let me know.”
“I don’t want to,” Jose returned quietly. “I hope to God it won’t ever be necessary.”
Harrod moved toward Lou. But he didn’t say anything. The hand he lifted dropped. He went out.
Lou stirred at the closing door. She wore her years like a yoke. “You’re staying tonight?”
He nodded. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Let the kid have the bedroom.” He went to her.
As if it were a compulsion, she repeated the name. “Adam.”
“He killed Beach.”
She didn’t say anything else. She went slowly into her own bedroom, closed the door.
Jose turned to the sorbita. “You can go to bed now.”
She glared at him. “I am not a thief. You will not give me to this policeman. I will run away.”
“I didn’t say Harrod wanted you. I said you were wanted on this side. You are. I’m taking you home with me.”
“Why?”
He wondered himself. “I’m going to send you to school.”
“I do not think I want to go to school.”
“Well, you’re going,” he snapped. “That’ll fix it with immigration. And Lord knows you can do with some polishing.”
She was lost in the bathrobe. She came over to him, looked up into his face. Hers was thunderous. “You will put me in school and you will bring that blond asquerosa into your house. You will call her sweet names. You will put your arms around her. You will—”
“Listen!” He took her by the shoulders, held her firmly. “I’ll probably have three dozen blondes before you grow up. But they won’t mean a thing. If I wait for you … you’ll snap your fingers at me and grab yourself a young guy.”
“No,” she said. The silver hearts in her ears quivered.
“No?” He grinned. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Now go to bed … querida.”
Reluctantly she went to the bedroom door. She turned there. “I am not a baby,” she said.
He sighed and shook his head. “Manana,” he told her.
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