The First Stone

by Don Aker

  There was one article that silenced both Stephen and Reef, a local item about Rowdy Brewster that left Reef mute in mid-sentence. He thought about calling Jink and telling him to watch his back, but he knew what Jink would say, knew how he’d laugh at Reef for beingsuch a pussy. Or maybe he wouldn’t laugh. Maybe he wouldn’t even talk to Reef at all. Things hadn’t gone great when they’d visited him at North Hills. Jink and Bigger couldn’t have got out of there any faster.

  But he couldn’t help worrying all the same, couldn’t help remembering Bigger’s words that day at the courthouse: I wouldn’t want Rowdy and his goons lookin’ for me. It wasn’t until Stephen began to moan and tug on the restraints again that Reef remembered where he was, could turn the paper over and continue.

  “Carly said I’d find you here,” whispered Leeza.

  Reef swiveled in his chair and saw her in the doorway. Stephen had fallen asleep a while earlier, but Reef hadn’t wanted to take the chance of disturbing him by leaving the room. He’d sat quietly, watching the sheet over Stephen’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall. There was something about that movement, repetitive and endless, that made him think about the events of the last few weeks, made him wonder if everything was automatic or if a person could actually change things, could make a difference somehow.

  He was still mulling over that question when Leeza arrived.

  He carefully lifted the newspaper from his lap and laid it on Stephen’s table, then eased himself up from the chair. The vinyl seatpad made an embarrassing sucking sound as he peeled himself off it. He colored, shrugged his shoulders in an it-wasn’t-me motion, and moved quietly to the door.

  Out in the hall, he felt suddenly awkward, unsure what to say, the events of the previous afternoon suddenly a lifetime ago. What did he know about talking to girls like her? He looked over her head for signs of Carly or Brett, saw none. Cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said finally. Like he was twelve.

  “Hi.”

  He could tell she felt the same awkwardness, and it made him think about Bigger’s dog, Ripper, the ugliest mutt on the planet. Reef had never had a pet, didn’t know what everyone else knew about dogs, and the first time he’d seen Ripper, he’d made the mistake of patting him right away. Hadn’t waited for the dog to sniff him first, look him over. Since then, Reef hadn’t been able to drop by Bigger’s house without the animal snarling at him, then slinking off when Bigger told him to shut the fuck up. The dog didn’t trust him.

  He wondered if people could be like that. Wondered if too much too soon made a difference, if maybe Leeza was wary of him now.

  Then again, she was no dog. Not by a long shot.

  “So.” They’d both said it. At exactly the same time. Then they were laughing, and Reef felt the easiness of the previous day settle around them.

  “Had lunch yet?” Leeza asked.

  Reef shook his head. “What time is it?”

  “Almost noon.”

  Reef looked at the hall clock over her head to confirm what she’d said. He’d lost all track of time. Probably because of that article in the paper.

  “You want to grab a bite in the cafeteria?” she asked. He thought about Bigger’s dog again, wondered if maybe he was making a mistake. Fuck it, he thought. “How’d you like some real food?” he asked.

  Carly had made them promise to be back by two o’clock, but Reef had called from a pay phone and asked for an extension—he’d taken Leeza to the Public Gardens and time had seemed to melt there in the hot August sun.

  Despite her mother’s encouragement, Leeza hadn’t been outside the rehab once; now she regretted all the time she’d spent indoors. The ride wasn’t comfortable, her wheelchair on the pathways joggled her uncomfortably from side to side, but Reef was very careful. It took a lot out of her, but not nearly as much as it would have if Val hadn’t been driving her so hard in physio. And besides, she loved seeing all the flowers in bloom, grass and hedges neatly trimmed, kids feeding the ducks bits of bread, street artists’ sketches and paintings pinned on lines strung along the fence around the gardens. By the time they left, both of their stomachs were complaining loudly.

  Reef had some trouble maneuvering her chair across the busy intersection at Spring Garden and South Park.

  The “Walk” sign flashed for only a few moments, and they were barely halfway across when the hand lit up, making it necessary for Reef to push the wheelchair faster, jiggling Leeza painfully. Getting the chair up onto the sidewalk and in through the Dairy Queen entrance was even trickier—Reef had expected people to be more polite, but several had rushed past them before a woman stopped and held the door open so they could enter. Reef seethed at the idiots who ignored them. Then suddenly remembered how he’d looked away from the patients Brett had introduced him to. Pretended they weren’t there. He shrugged the thought away. You think too much, he told himself.

  “You sure you want to do this?” asked Leeza as she scanned the menu on the wall behind the counter. The pain in her pelvis and leg had begun to talk to her, reminding her it was still there, stretching its claws under the morphine. Waiting. Just so she knew: it wasn’t going anywhere.

  Business at the Dairy Queen on Spring Garden Road was brisk, and there were several people in the line in front of them. A few of them turned to glance at Leeza, her wheelchair, the blanket that bulged over her fixators, but meeting Reef’s dark scowl was enough to turn them face forward again. Fast.

  “Yeah,” Reef said. He still had money left over from his Social Services check, even after paying for the glass panel he’d broken, and DQ had to be a whole lot better than tuna sandwiches in the rehab cafeteria.

  “What’re you having?” she asked.

  “Two cheeseburgers,” Reef said. His stomach warbled in agreement. “Maybe three if this line don’t move any faster,” he said.

  Leeza stared up at the pictures on the menu with something resembling reverence on her face. “Fast food never looked so good,” she said. “I think I’ll have one too.” Then added, “With fries.”

  “Anything to drink?”

  “D’you suppose the milkshakes here are as healthy as the ones at the rehab?”

  Reef smiled. “Prob’ly better we don’t know.”

  They’d wanted to eat outside, but it would have been difficult for Leeza to balance food on her lap so they ate in the restaurant looking out at the people walking past. Reef watched as another person in a wheelchair—this one a young man by himself—crossed the busy intersection and rolled up onto the sidewalk. He thought suddenly about that girl, Elizabeth Morrison, and couldn’t help wondering where she was, what she was doing. More thoughts. He pushed them aside, chewed on his second cheeseburger.

  “Mmm,” Leeza said. “I forgot how good this stuff tasted.”

  “Beats Alex’s cooking,” said Reef without thinking. When she asked who Alex was, he told her briefly about North Hills, about it being a home for teenaged boys. She didn’t press him for more, and somehow he knew she believed he lived there because he had nofamily. He hadn’t lied. But it was the first time he’d been bothered by not telling the whole truth.

  He told her, though, how duties at North Hills were divided up, how Alex was in charge of meals that week and Reef had grown tired of trying to identify the concoctions he had been serving them lately. Haute cuisine Alex called his dishes, but some of them might just as well have been fried hat. The evening before, Alex had experienced what he called a Martha Stewart Moment and flounced into the dining room carrying a large tray of canapés. Except Reef thought he’d said “canopies” and was sure Alex had served up bits of the old awning that hung over the back deck. When he made a comment to that effect, even Colville laughed, breaking his own “Respect others” rule. He suspended punishment for everyone’s infraction that night and took them all out to McDonald’s. Of course, Reef left out the part about what happened later.

  “This Alex sounds like quite the character.” Leeza said.

  “He’s one of a kind, all
right,” Reef said, his voice toneless. He turned away, saw the menu on the back wall and thought again of that meal at McDonald’s. Over their supersized meals, they’d all started laughing again about Alex’s cooking. Reef had asked Alex if he felt another Martha Moment coming on as he was scarfing down his Big Mac. Owen had nearly choked on a McNugget. which set everyone off again, and Alex had responded by batting his eyes and asking Reef—in his breathiest diva voice—if his Quarter Pounder needed some of Alex’s extra special sauce. The guys howled, all of them except Reef, who jumped up, grabbed Alex by the collar and roared, “You can shove your goddamn special sauce up your faggot ass.” Which pretty much ended the meal.

  This one was over too. Reef could tell Leeza was tired and, judging from the lines on her forehead, in a fair amount of pain. He picked up their empty food containers and napkins and put them into the appropriate bins. Returning to Leeza, he unlocked the brakes on her wheelchair and rolled her toward the exit. This time, a kid about seven years old jumped up and held the door open for them.

  Once outside, Leeza thanked Reef for the meal. “No problem,” he said, and she smiled at him, the kind of smile you saw on lottery billboards. Reef felt something let go inside.

  “Jeez, that intersection,” she said, looking at the cars waiting for the green.

  Reef was glad she’d spoken. Otherwise he wouldn’t have moved, would have continued to stand there like an idiot. “You wanna try crossin’ the street on your own this time?” he asked. It was a ridiculous question, but the only thing he could think of to say.

  She shook her head. “Maybe we’ll save that for another day.”

  Another day. Reef liked the sound of that. Liked it a lot. He reached for the handles on the back of the wheelchair and eased her forward.

  “I was beginning to think I should send out a search party for you two,” said Brett. She was lying on her bed reading a magazine when Reef rolled Leeza into the room. Leeza, however, knew she was only pretending to read. Her favorite soap was on at that moment, and any other weekday she’d have been planted in front of the third-floor big-screen TV. Brett obviously had been waiting. For more details.

  “Hi, Brett,” Reef said.

  “Hi, Reef. I hear you finally got the vampire here out in the sunshine. And it didn’t kill her after all.”

  He grinned self-consciously. “No, it didn’t.”

  Leeza looked up at him. “You want to sit for a bit?” she asked, then grimaced.

  “I’d like to, but my ride’ll be here in a minute,” Reef said. He’d noticed the hall clock and was amazed at how much time had passed. “Thanks anyway. I’ll see you, okay?”

  Leeza smiled at him. “Okay.”

  “See you, Brett.” And he was gone.

  “You want to sit for a hit?” Brett echoed teasingly. “Could you have sounded more like a senior citizen, girl?”

  Leeza’s face was pained, and not just from the latenessof her morphine shot. “I know, I know,” she groaned, tapping her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Shoot me now.”

  Brett pulled herself up onto her elbow. “You had a good time?”

  Leeza nodded. “The best. He doesn’t talk a lot, but he’s a great listener. And the funny thing is, I don’t think he even knows it.”

  They listened for a moment themselves as Stephen began to wail, the sound threading itself through the rooms along the hall until, unexpectedly, he fell silent.

  “Did Reef tell you why he was volunteering here?”

  “I didn’t ask, but I think it’s because of some program at this place where he lives.” Leeza told Brett about North Hills.

  “Jeez. An orphan,” Brett breathed. “Rough. I can see why you didn’t ask.”

  Leeza nodded.

  “Did you talk to him about your accident?”

  “You know, I was going to. He asked me about it, but I thought if I told him he might think I was some weird media freak. All that stuff in the paper.” She shook her head. “Besides, I suddenly realized that I’ve spent the last three weeks thinking about nothing else. I want to put it behind me and move on. No sense dwelling on something you can’t change, is there?”

  “Wow,” Brett said.

  “What?”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Someone should’vetaken you outside weeks ago. Did you a world of good, girl.” She grinned. “You know, I’d have pushed you out myself if I coulda got one of these windows open.”

  “Gee, thanks,” said Leeza.

  “Hey, I’d have given you my parachute.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  Stephen began to wail again, but this time his cries were drowned out by Brett and Leeza’s laughter.

  Chapter 21

  “You trying to get all your volunteer time done this summer?” Colville asked as he eased the truck to a stop in front of the rehab. “This is your fifth time this week.”

  Reef pulled up on the handle and swung the door open. “That a problem?” he asked as he got out. His face had that hard-edged look, like the rim of a mirror, one you’d only hang on the back of a door.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Colville said.

  The door thunked shut. “I can take the bus.”

  “It was a joke, Reef.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” Reef heard Colville begin to say something else but he kept walking, triggered the automatic sliding doors and went inside.

  “You’re cheating!” Leeza shouted, reaching across the table and checking the pile of discards.

  Brett was laughing so hard she was holding her sides, but looking at Reef’s expression of wide-eyed innocence only made things worse. “Busted, buddy,” she managed to gasp.

  “Look, I can’t help it if you two play poker like ol’ ladies.” Reef reached out and pulled the tangle of toothpicks toward him, adding them to the already considerable pile on his side of the table. “A full house beats two pair every time.”

  He hadn’t been cheating, which was a first for Reef, since he was so good at it. Had, in fact, cheated in nearly every game he’d played with Bigger and Jink, often just using the simple double-up, sandwiching extra cards into his hand. It took nimble fingers to do it, and more than a little nerve when you were playing with Jink. Reef liked to win.

  But he hadn’t been cheating here. Hadn’t, in fact, even thought to. For the first time in a very long while—since he’d played cards with his grandmother—Reef found himself just enjoying the game. Winning wasn’t the thing that kept him sitting at the table. Nor were his assigned hours bringing him back to the rehab day after day. It was being with Leeza. There was something about her that he couldn’t get enough of. There wasn’t a moment when he didn’t find her on his mind. Couldn’t do anything without wondering what she’d think about it. Like the greenhouse. It was finished now, and he’d, thought that week about how he’d like to show it to her, how he’d like her to see what he’d done. Wondered if it might be possible. Sometime.

  But it wasn’t just the greenhouse. It was stupid stuff, too. He’d be doing the dishes at North Hills, orvacuuming, and he’d catch himself wondering if this was the way she’d dry silverware, or if that was the way she’d use the Hoover on stairs. Like any of that shit really mattered.

  But somehow it did matter. Everything about her mattered to him. He wondered about what she’d been like as a kid, what her favorite things were, what she liked to do when she was alone. And afraid. He’d never known he could ask so many questions. And she’d answered all of them. All but one. What had brought her here.

  He hadn’t pressed her about it. The more time he spent with her, the less he wanted to think about what had brought him here.

  Of course, in the last few days she’d had questions of her own, and he’d told her some of what his life had been like, the foster homes, the moving around. About Bigger and Jink, about some of the trouble they’d gotten into. Mostly, though, it was just stuff that made her laugh. He’d left out things she’d never understand, t
hings that maybe even he didn’t understand completely now.

  So yeah, he could accept it if there were one or two things she didn’t want to share. He’d considered asking somebody about her accident—Brett, maybe, or one of the nurses—but somehow it didn’t seem right, that if Leeza wanted him to know she’d tell him in her own time. Like his being at the rehab. She’d just assumed that volunteering was something people at North Hills did, and he hadn’t told her any different. Didn’t know how he could, if it came to that. Shuddered at what she’d think if she knew.

  Because she did something to him. Made him want to be better somehow. Made him think, maybe, that he was better. Better than he’d been, anyway.

  He’d tried to tell Owen about her a couple nights ago, tried to tell him who she was, what she was like. But Owen had looked at him like he’d suddenly grown an extra head, and he’d felt like a moron even bringing it up. Changed the subject. Because he really didn’t understand it himself. Had never felt like this before.

  It wasn’t like he was in love, or anything like that. Who fell in love any more, anyway? Love was for soap operas and “I Dream of Jeannie” episodes. And deaf girls who got knocked up and left behind.

  But he liked being with her. Liked the sound of her voice, how her eyes traveled over his face when he talked, the way her nose crinkled when she pretended to be mad. Like right now.

  “Okay,” Leeza said, as she stopped riffling through the discards, “I give up. What’s your secret?”

  “Reef, can I have a word with you?”

  All three turned to see Shelly Simpson, the volunteer coordinator, standing in the doorway of the sixth-floor lounge. She wasn’t wearing her usual smile, and the grin on Reef’s face evaporated. “Right now?” he asked.

  “Yes, please,” she said. She stepped back into the hall.

  Reef looked at Brett and Leeza. “Don’t anyone touch my toothpicks,” he warned them as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  But it would be more than a minute before he saw them again. Much more.