Whistling In the Dark by Kagen Lesley

Author:Kagen, Lesley [Kagen, Lesley]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: PENGUIN group
Published: 2011-07-30T21:31:43.859000+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

On the ride over to Granny’s, Henry and I sat in the backseat of his Rambler that still had that certain smell of newness about it. I had not let go of Henry’s hand and it was beginning to sweat but I didn’t mind that at all. That was how I knew I was in love with him, because I didn’t even like to hold Troo’s hand when it got that clammy. Troo was feeling better. Her nose was just a lot bigger. She was sitting in front with Mr. Fitzpatrick, her head resting against the back of the seat. The breeze coming through the car window was drying off the sweat that had popped up on her forehead below her coonskin. She looked like she was almost asleep.

“Sally?” Mr. Fitzpatrick said quietly. He was looking at me in the rearview mirror. Henry’s dad was a white-looking man so it made me wonder if Henry got the homofeelya from him. Mr. Fitzpatrick wore thick black glasses and was almost bald so he had the forehead of a baby but a chin made of stone. I wanted to say to Troo, “Fitzpatrick?” And I hoped she’d say, “Irish.”

“Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick?” I said.

“Officer Rasmussen just told me that there’s been a little problem with Hall. You need to stay at your granny’s tonight and then tomorrow Nell and Eddie will come and get you.”

I knew this was going to happen. Hall was dead, I bet.

Henry squeezed my hand a little tighter when I rolled down my window to get some of that nice thick summer night air. When I was ready, I asked, “What happened to Hall?”

I looked at the back of Mr. Fitzpatrick’s neck. He must’ve just had a haircut because there was a red rash running along the edge of his white pharmacy jacket. Mother used to tell Daddy that Vaseline was good for that.

Mr. Fitzpatrick put his eyes back on the road. “Hall got himself into a little bit of trouble and he’s down at the jail right now.”

Troo, who it turned out was not sleeping at all, said, “Did he get in a fight?”

Mr. Fitzpatrick said, “Hall hit Mr. Jerbak over the head with a beer bottle and now Mr. Jerbak is in the hospital.”

“And he’s in jail for that?” Troo asked, surprise in her voice. Kids were always getting hit and nobody had to go to jail.

“Charges are being pressed against Hall,” Mr. Fitzpatrick said. He turned on his blinker, which made that soft tick tick tick noise. We turned down Fifty-ninth Street and went past Delancey’s Corner Store, which made me think of poor Sara Heinemann going to get her mother some milk and maybe have a glass of Ovaltine before she got tucked into bed and instead she ended up dead. A couple people in shorts and T-shirts were still sitting out on their front steps, drinking out of beer bottles and listening to the radio that was playing some boogie-woogie. One of them waved to Mr.

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