Part 39 (1/2)

”Where?” Lucas asked. Keely shook her head to rid it of that image, then looked at Lucas.”I'm sorry, what?”

”Where is Dylan?” he asked.

Keely closed the closet door. ”He went to get some ice and some sodas. He'll be right back. He'll be so surprised to see you.” Anxiously, she remembered what she had told Dylan-that Lucas was about to be arrested. What if Dylan blurted it out? Then, there'd be no pretending that she didn't know, that she hadn't figured it out. She looked anxiously at the door.

”Well, it will be good to see him,” said Lucas. ”How did the return to school go?”

”Fine,” said Keely. ”It went fine.” She thought of how vehemently Lucas had defended Dylan from Maureen Chase's persecution. How they had leaned on him. It couldn't be, she thought. Lucas was a champion of the law. He believed in justice and fairness. ”Dylan's the reasonwe came down here, actually. He needed to do a paper on the Supreme Court. I thought it would be fun for him to actually visit the court.”

Lucas nodded. ”Good idea. It will give him a real feeling for the place. I argued before the Supreme Court once, you know.”

”Oh?” she said. Her face was a mask of polite interest as her brain worked feverishly, trying to a.s.sess the situation they were in. Was he dangerous to them? It wasn't possible.

”Oh, yes,” Lucas continued. ”I was almost paralyzed with fear. It's quite a feeling to stand in that courtroom as those venerable old justices come in and take their seats. You never forget it.”

Keely looked at him, feeling perplexed-and suddenly protective of him. He had had such a successful life.How could it have been Lucas?she argued with herself. There were lots of diabetics. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she had a.s.sumed it was Lucas. There was no reason to think it couldn't have been someone else. ”You've had such a fantastic career, Lucas.”

”Yes, well . . . I always had a kind of simple-minded belief in truth and justice and all that. Always thought the good guys would win in the end. The outlaws would end up behind bars. Just like in all the old westerns. I grew up on those, you know. When I was a boy, you could sit in the movies all day. Watch the serials, the westerns. Even poor as we were, my dad would manage to scare up the money for my brother and me to go to the pictures while he and my mom were working in the store on Sat.u.r.days. That was a happy time in my life. I didn't even know we were poor then. Not till my dad died when I was eight. By then, I was already hooked. I was gonna wear the white hat and save the day.”

For a moment, Keely was distracted as she thought she heard the door open and shut in the room next door.No,she thought.It couldn't be Dylan. Dylan would come in here first.He was bringing the ice to her. He had sodas for them both. Besides, Dylan would turn the TV on the moment he came in. The TV was like life support for a teenager. She didn't hear its tinny drone through the wall. She sat down carefully on the other bed. ”And you did, Lucas,” she said. ”You did. You always did. Mark always said-”

”Mark,” Lucas said. ”Now there was a hero-”

”Where's Betsy tonight?” she interrupted brightly, desperately.

A muscle twitched in Lucas's wrinkled cheek, and he worked his fingers restlessly on the top of his stick. ”Oh. At home,” he said ruefully.”With no idea-”

”No idea where you are?” Keely interjected. ”Why don't you call her and tell her you're here and you'll be back soon? You know she always worries about you.”

Lucas stared blankly in front of him. ”The police are probably there by now,” he said.

Keely's heart thudded at the mention of the police.Don't tell me,she thought.I don't want to know.”Always some defendant needing your help,” she said weakly. She picked up a colorful plastic ball with a bells in it that had rolled away from Abby. She handed it back to the baby, then stood up, wringing her hands. ”I wonder what's keeping Dylan with that ice,” she said. ”Maybe I'd better go look for him.”

Lucas looked up at her from under his thick eyebrows, still dark, despite his white hair. ”You're nervous,” he said.

Keely stared back at him like someone caught at a crime. Suddenly, she felt calmer. Defiant, almost. It was as if Lucas was imprisoning her in this little room. She wanted to throw him out, but she didn't dare.”He's my son. I nearly lost him once,” she reminded him.

Lucas nodded slightly. ”That's what it's all about,” he said. Then he sighed and looked around the room. ”Where are all his things?” Lucas asked. ”It doesn't look as if a teenage boy is staying here.”

Keely didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to tell him that Dylan's room was next door. She felt as if the simplest thing, the most innocuous truth, was somehow dangerous. But she didn't dare lie, even about something so seemingly minor. There was a volatility about Lucas tonight that frightened her. It was as if he were holding a bomb on his lap. ”Actually . . .” she began.

The connecting doors between the rooms opened, and both of them jumped. Keely looked up and saw Dylan standing in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of faded color-blocked cotton jams from the summer and a T-s.h.i.+rt. The wound on his neck looked discolored and painful, but no longer raw.

”Dylan,” she cried. She wanted to warn him-Don't say anything. Don't mention what I told you about Lucas-but she didn't dare.

”I'm ready to go swimming,” Dylan said. ”Hey, Mr. Weaver.” He looked surprised but not shocked. Almost as if he had forgotten what she said about Lucas's trouble with the police.

Lucas peered at the boy. ”h.e.l.lo, Dylan.”

Before Dylan could remember and ask why Lucas was there, Keely said quickly, ”I didn't hear you come in. Where's the ice, Dylan? Where are the sodas?”

Dylan gestured back to his room. ”In my room,” he said. ”You want one?”

”Yes, please,” said Keely.

”You want a soda, Mr. Weaver? I bought extras.”

”No, thank you, Dylan,” said Lucas politely.

”You probably have to get going, don't you?” Keely asked the old man.

Lucas ignored her question and kept his piercing gaze trained on Dylan. ”A heated pool, presumably.”

”I hope so,” Dylan said.

”I'll come down there with you,” said Lucas. He turned to Keely.”Are you going in?”

Keely shook her head.Please go away and leave us alone,she thought.

”What about Abby?” Lucas asked.

”No,” Keely snapped.

”We'll all go down there and watch you swim, Dylan,” said Lucas.

Keely realized that this was a command from Lucas. She wanted to protest, to order him to leave, but she wasn't sure how he would react. She could make a scene, but she wasn't sure what the consequences might be. It seemed she would be going down to the pool whether she wanted to or not. Slowly, Keely gathered up a couple of Abby's toys and picked up the baby.

Dylan turned around and started back into his room. Lucas stood up. ”Where are you going?” he demanded suspiciously.

”To get my leather jacket,” said Dylan. ”It's too cold out there to walk around like this.”

Lucas limped to the connecting door and watched as Dylan picked up his jacket off the bed and put it on. Keely wondered why Dylan had not told the old man to mind his own business.I trained him well,she thought.He'd say that to me, but he's polite to senior citizens. Maybe I trained him too well,she thought ruefully.

Dylan came back through Keely's room, and Lucas ushered them all out the door, pulling it shut until the lock clicked behind them.”Lead the way, Dylan,” said Lucas.

Obediently, Dylan began to shuffle down the walk. The rain was tapering off now, but it had gotten colder, and you could see your breath. Keely walked along with Abby in her arms, clutching the baby close to her for warmth. Although he limped, Lucas kept up with them with no problem. At the end of the outside walkway, they went through a set of double doors that led down a door-lined corridor.At least the pool is a public place,Keely thought.That would be better.

Other than a dark-haired, brown-skinned chambermaid who nodded and said,”Buenos noches,”as they pa.s.sed, they encountered no one else. They left the hallway and traversed an empty sitting area with an unlit gas fireplace flanked by two matching sofas covered in a nubby maroon fabric. They climbed two steps, then Dylan opened the door to the pool area. A blast of steamy air greeted them. There were a number of white plastic chairs and chaise lounges scattered around the concrete perimeter of the pool. A trim woman with wrinkled skin and a white bathing cap was methodically swimming laps. At the far end, a young couple wearing swimsuits relaxed on side-by-side chaises, their hands linked. They looked up, frowning, as Keely came in carrying Abby. There were no other children, and Abby's babyish shrieks and gurgles echoed in the nearly empty, cavernous room.

Lucas indicated a pair of chaises with his walking stick, and Keely walked toward them. Beside the long chairs was a small play area with a construction of large, colorful plastic blocks that instantly attracted the baby. Keely and Lucas sat down and leaned stiffly back against the sloping backs of their chairs. Lucas carefully set his walking stick down against the chair. Dylan tossed his leather jacket and his T-s.h.i.+rt at the foot of Keely's chaise and walked over to the edge of the pool.

The warm air was damp and heavy, and Keely felt conspicuous in her street clothes. She began to perspire in her cotton sweater and long black pants. She crossed her feet at the ankles, and the toes of her leather boots pointed toward the low, vaulted ceiling. Glancing over at Lucas, who was still wearing his raincoat, she could see no evidence of sweat. He was old, she thought. He was probably always cold.

”This feels good,” he said, as if reading her thoughts.

Keely did not reply. She turned her attention to her son as he approached the edge of the pool. His lanky frame was pale and vulnerable in the greenish light from the agitated surface of the water. His shoulders were beginning to broaden and his waist to narrow, but his body was mostly smooth and white, like a child's except for the purplish scar at his throat.