"When You Can't Just Walk Away" III
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I limped around the house and back and forth from school for almost a week
before my mother said anything. When she mentioned my getting an x-ray to
my father, he told her it would be a waste of time. “If the boy got hurt, he deserved what he got. It’s God’s will,” he said, and that was that. I didn’t expect anything else, and since I was pretty sure the ankle wasn’t broken, I didn’t worry. But someone did seem worried, Miss Carswell. She drove up to school a couple days after I’d tried to break in to her house and gave me a lift home. It was only four blocks, but I was grateful, though I didn’t want to be. My parents and the Razors didn’t care, but that strange, old woman seemed to, and that confused me. When she showed up the next afternoon, I told her that I could walk, and I did, but only around the next corner, out of sight of the school. Then I got into her boat of a Pontiac, and she dropped me off in front of my house. I felt as if I owed her an apology, but she waved it off. “ Stupid of me not to realize my driving you home would make you uncomfortable,” she said. “ It’s not that,” I began, but then I didn’t know how to continue. How could I explain? “ What then?” she asked. She didn’t sound impatient, just interested. “ Well, it’s what my friends will think.” “ Your friends? You mean the ones who put you up to breaking into my house?” I didn’t reply, but she went on anyway. “What would you have done if I’d had a gun?” she asked. “A lot of people out in the country do. You could have been killed.” I shrugged. “It’s a risk you take,” I told her, hoping I sounded tough. She shook her head. “For what? To impress your friends?” I shrugged again. She didn’t understand what it meant to have friends like the Razors, friends other guys were afraid of. She sighed. “You might think about finding some new friends, Buzz, before you get killed.” “ I won’t get killed. They’re not letting me do any more jobs since I screwed up the last one.” The muscles around her mouth relaxed. “I guess the ink bottle didn’t impress them, did it?” she asked, smiling. I grunted and looked out the window. Of course the ink bottle hadn’t impressed them. I’d hoped that she wouldn’t figure out why I wanted it. I was embarrassed. It seemed very hot in the car, and I rolled the window down. When we pulled up in front of my house she said, “By the way, your tutoring gig starts on Monday.” I let myself fall back onto the car seat and closed the door. “Where? Who? What?” I asked. “ Surely you hadn’t forgotten,” she said. “I spoke to Evan Mathison, and he thinks you have a lot of mathematical ability. Doesn’t like you much though.” “ He’s a moron,” I replied. “ I think you said that already.” I looked at her. “When?” “ In my kitchen while you were icing your ankle. You look surprised. What’s the matter?” she asked, starting to sound a little impatient. “Don’t you remember?” I nodded. “I remember all right. I’m just surprised you do.” The impatience disappeared from her voice. “Not used to having anyone listen to you?” I nodded, surprised that I felt a lump in my throat. “ Well, here’s the story on the tutoring. “You’ll meet with Susie three times a week, Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons for two hours. Mrs. Ellis will pay you at the end of each week.” “ What?” I asked, suddenly aware that the person I’d be tutoring wouldn’t be just any ten year-old but dopey, little Susie Ellis, daughter of the bossy postmistress. “Susie Ellis?” The old woman nodded. “Don’t look so stricken, Buzz. You’re only going to tutor her, you’re not going to date her.” I shook my head. “Three afternoons a week? Two hours each afternoon, three days a week?” “ That’s right,” she said. “ Holy sh…,” I began. “ I know, I know. There goes your social life,” she said, raising one eyebrow. “Mrs. Ellis will pay you seven dollars an hour, assuming you are able to teach Susie anything. We’ll evaluate that at the end of the first week.” “ We?” I asked. “ You, I, and Judy Barrows, Susie’s teacher,” she replied. “Mrs. Ellis will be there, of course, to offer her input and hear what Judy and I have to say. And Susie will get a chance to offer her two cents’ worth as well.” I just nodded, feeling dazed. “And how about paying you for the cracked window?” I heard myself ask. As soon as I did I couldn’t believe I’d brought it up. She looked surprised for a moment, and I went on, “Do you want Mrs. Ellis to pay you directly?” She shook her head. “No, Buzz, I don’t.” I wasn’t sure what her response meant. Did she trust me to pay her or was the point to make me hand over my hard-earned money in person so I’d feel duly punished? “ Time for you to go, Buzz,” she said. “You don’t want your father wondering what you’re doing in my car.” “ So where do I tutor the little creep?” I managed to ask. She smiled at me. “Jill Ellis suggested the public library in Atkins Corner. That’s about three blocks from Susie’s school. Unless you want Susie to come into town so you could tutor her nearer to your school.” I shook my head violently, making it clear I’d rather go out to Atkins Corner. “ But how will you get there?” Miss Carswell asked. I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ll thumb a ride, I guess.” “ Is that how you usually get around?” she asked. I shook my head again. “No, it’s only because of my foot,” I replied, pointing to it stupidly. “Normally I ride my bike.” “ But you didn’t ride your bike out to my place,” she said. I shrugged and grinned at her. “Got to go.” I opened the door and stepped gingerly out of her car. I remember thinking that the old woman asked a lot of questions. And what was worse, I found myself answering them. I couldn’t remember the last time I had had such a long conversation with an adult. Fortunately no one saw me getting into or out of the old woman’s car,
but the Razors were suspicious when I turned up earlier than expected at our
regular hangout.
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