The Legal Limit by Clark Martin

Author:Clark, Martin [Clark, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Vintage
Published: 2008-07-08T04:00:00+00:00

As they exited the parking area, Sadie Grace kept her focus on the highway and said in a stern voice, “Trouble has a way of rubbin’ off to the people around it.”

The sun had warmed the car’s interior, and Mason switched on the air-conditioning, the first use since last year. “I know. Better than most people, I know.”

“I don’t have any idea what you two have goin’ or why we came today, and I don’t care to find out. But Gates is trouble. It pains me to say it, but he is. You need to steer clear. You’ve made a life for yourself. You’ve got a daughter to raise. Gates has too much of his daddy in him.” She touched her eye, though there was no tear apparent. “I take my share of the blame, too. I could’ve made different choices.”

Mason looked at her, but she kept to herself. “We were lucky to have had you,” he said to comfort her. “You did everything anyone could have. More, in fact. No telling what would have happened if you weren’t around. You are a saint and a godsend.” He patted her knee. “I can handle Gates.”

“You remember the story of Joseph?” she asked.

“I seem to recall he had a fine coat. And a good run on Broadway.” Mason smiled.

She finally faced him and recited from memory: “‘So when the Midianite merchants came by, his brothers pulled Joseph up out of the cistern and sold him for twenty shekels of silver.’ I’ve read that verse a thousand times. Brothers who would sell a brother ’cause they’re jealous and petty. Selfish. Tradin’ their own flesh and blood. It can happen, Mason. It happened in the Bible.”

“I doubt we could get the full twenty shekels for Gates,” he joked.

“Oh, no. It’d be the other way around, believe me.”

“I understand—I was only kidding.”

“Watch yourself,” she said. “You’ve been good to Gates. You should have a clear conscience. You don’t owe him. Don’t risk your good name on him.”

“I wish it were that simple.” He decreased the car’s fan. “Along those lines, let me say I was glad to drive you to see him after you asked.”

“Huh? I asked? You called me. I’d rather been at Sunday service.”

“Maybe I’m mistaken, but I think you wanted to go, and I volunteered to take you.”

Their roles briefly reverted, and his mother eyed him as if he were sixteen and seeking a white lie about his homework or where he’d been when a girl called the house asking for him. “You’re a good son,” she said. “Always there if I need something. It was nice of you to take me. As best as I can remember, I asked you to.” It came out almost primly, and she seemed curiously gratified, eager to be maternal and help her boy, even if she didn’t know the specifics and even if it required her to discount the truth, her church teachings and the Ten Commandments crowded to the rear where her son was concerned.

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