Part 49 (1/2)
”Brian--I--I--”
”Go ahead, old boy,” said Brian, his eyes tender. ”I can see you've got a lot on your mind.”
”I paid 'em--every one!”
”So I see.”
”And never again will you have to bookkeep lies. I'm that truthful now Sid worries a bit!”
Brian's amazed eyes twinkled.
”You delicious lunatic!” he said.
”I practiced,” went on Kenny with his lips compressed. ”I practiced hard--up at the farm with Adam.”
”Joan's told me you were there. I can't quite hitch things together yet, but I will in time.”
”A landslide of things seemed to happen the minute you went--”
”I always had a feeling,” admitted Brian, ”that if I didn't stick around and keep an eye on you, a lot of things would happen.”
”They did. They've been happenin' ever since.”
Brian flushed and put out his hand.
”Kenny, surely you guessed. I was sorry--”
”Jewel machree, I was fair sick about the shotgun. And after you went I was willing to be sorry about anything--to get you back.”
”And Ann's statuette. Lord, I burn when I think of it.”
”You couldn't be blamed for a bit of temper. You're Irish, lad, and an O'Neill. 'Tis a splendid inheritance but volcanic too.” He changed color and began to roam around the room, his mind casting up a painful memory.
”You'll never guess,” he went on moodily, ”what fell upon the head of me after you went. John Whitaker came up and took a shot at me. And Garry. And then after a while when I was quieter, old Adam, stirring me up afresh. My ears are as used to the truth as my tongue.”
”It's a darned shame!” said Brian warmly. Kenny sighed.
”Ah, Brian,” he said wistfully, ”I was needin' it all. You can't conceive until you put your mind to it or--or write it down, what a failure I've been--”
”Failure!”
”As a parent. Even my penance on the road was--was like the rest.”
”Your _penance_!”
”I bought a corncrib and a mule,” flung out Kenny, roaming turbulently around the room, ”and thrashed a farmer. And I hated the rain and the smell of cheese and burned up the corn-crib--”
”Kenny, what are you talking about?”
Inexorably intent upon the easing of his conscience Kenny told the tale of his penance with terrifying honesty and truth.
Brian listened and dared not smile.