Jon stood. “I have to go,” he said. “There are people expecting me.”
Mrs. Brunswick rose. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I only met your mother after the high school burned down, but I could see what a wonderful woman she was. She was devoted to her students.”
Jon nodded.
“To her family, also,” Mrs. Brunswick said. “She was… It was an honor to know her.”
“Yes,” Jon said. “Well, I have to go.”
“There’s a back door,” Mrs. Brunswick said. “Down this hallway. If you leave through that door, you won’t have to… It might be easier for you.”
“Thank you,” Jon said, but when he left the office, he went out the front door. They wanted people to see Mom. They wanted people to understand what they were capable of doing, what they enjoyed doing.
Jon stood absolutely still by his mother’s body. He wanted to take her home, back to Pennsylvania, back to life as it had been. He wanted to be twelve again, to hear Mom cheering him on as he played shortstop for his Little League team. He wanted Mom to see the sun again, to see the grandchild she’d been so eagerly awaiting. He wanted to kill.
A guard walked up to him. “You have business here?” he asked.
“I’m here to run errands for Dr. Goldman,” Jon replied. “I have a note.” He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to the guard.
“I’ll go with you,” the guard said. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know. Some of my pals are a little trigger happy.”
“Thank you,” Jon said. “I appreciate it.” He began walking away from his mother, trying not to think that this was the last time he would see her.
“Grubs,” the guard said, shaking his head in disgust. “Animals. You should have seen the stadium on Saturday.”
“Bad?” Jon asked.
“The game was okay,” the guard replied. “Soccer’s not my game, though. I played baseball. Third base. Made it to Double A for the Red Sox.”
“I was a shortstop,” Jon said. “Little League. Phillies fan.”
“Good team,” the guard said. “Wouldn’t have minded being traded to them.”
“Double A’s good,” Jon said. “Would you have made it to the big leagues?”
The guard nodded. “I was drafted out of high school. I was only twenty when everything happened. Killed that dream, let me tell you.”
“Mine, too,” Jon said. And my father’s. And my mother’s.
The guard laughed. “We all started somewhere,” he said. “I made it to Williamsport one year. Little League World Series. We were knocked out second round, but it was great. One of the best times of my life. I felt like a star.”
“I would have liked that,” Jon said.
“I feel bad for you kids sometimes,” the guard said. “Well, you have it all right, being a claver. But the ones here? Once things turned bad, well, they turned bad right along with it. You should see what they did to each other Saturday.” He paused. “I killed a bunch of them Saturday night. I’d never killed anyone before then. I could have a few times, but I didn’t. I was a ballplayer, you know? I wasn’t aiming to kill people. But Saturday there was no choice. And after the first few, it didn’t feel so bad anymore. That woman? The one you were looking at? She had to be shut up. We had to make an example of her. And the guard in charge, he gets ideas. Everything has to be bigger. He’s my boss and I guess he knows what he’s doing. I didn’t second-guess my manager or the hitting coach. I did what they told me. Same thing, really.”
Jon had been beaned once. The ball had hit him flush on his helmet. The world had swirled around him as he’d fallen to his knees.
It was the same sensation now. He’d been walking, talking, with one of his mother’s killers. And he was as helpless now as he had been when the fastball had struck him. The guard was armed, and Jon wasn’t. Even letting the guard know it was Jon’s mother he’d killed could be fatal.
Mom wanted him to live. He could hear her telling him to swallow his rage.
“The clinic’s over there,” he said, pointing to the building. “I’ll be okay from here.”
“Pleasure meeting you,” the guard said, shaking Jon’s hand. “Us ballplayers got to stick together.”
Jon nodded. He walked to the clinic door. The two guards protecting the clinic let him in.
Sarah rushed into his arms. “Did you find her?” she asked. “Is she all right?”
“No,” Jon said. “I mean yes. I found her. She’s dead.” He felt his knees giving in.
Dr. Goldman grabbed him. “Sit down,” he said. “Sarah, get the potka. Now.”
Jon made it to a chair, and when Sarah brought him the drink, he swallowed it in one burning gulp. “She was killed yesterday,” he said. “I saw her body.”
Sarah looked at her father, who nodded. She poured another drink.
Jon sipped it this time. “I have to tell people,” he said. “Alex will want to know. Miranda. Matt.” He started to laugh. “I don’t even know how to tell Matt. He delivers mail but he doesn’t get any.”
“Get a blanket, Sarah,” Dr. Goldman said.
Sarah got one and wrapped it around Jon. The warmth felt good, but he couldn’t stop shaking.
“You’re in shock,” Dr. Goldman said. “You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t. Sarah, get another blanket. Jon, I’m going to give you a shot.”
“A shot,” Jon said. “That’s what Mom got.” His laughter grew even more out of control.
“Get up, Jon,” Dr. Goldman said. “Keep the blanket wrapped around you. You’re going on the examining table. I’m giving you a sedative.”
Jon did as Dr. Goldman told him. That’s what you were supposed to do. You didn’t second-guess. It was wrong to second-guess.
Dr. Goldman rolled up Jon’s sleeve. “This will put you out for a couple of hours,” he said. “Your problems won’t go away, but you’ll be able to handle them better.” He injected Jon’s arm.
“Whatever you say,” Jon mumbled. “I don’t second-guess.”
In a moment he was asleep. Now it was Mom crying, “No. Jon. No.”
Chapter 11
“You’re going to have to tell Miranda,” Lisa said, serving Jon breakfast so they could talk privately. “This morning. The sooner you get it done, the better you’ll feel.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Jon asked. He thought it was a very bad idea, but more for himself than for Miranda.
“Eat something, Jon,” Lisa said. “I know you don’t feel like it, but you’ll need your strength. And no, I don’t think it’s a good idea, but it has to be done. Miranda’s going to want her mother. I know how much I wanted mine when Gabe was born.” She paused. “I can’t imagine a world without Laura,” she said. “I’ll never forget how kind she was. It can’t have been easy, being so good to your ex’s wife. She was an amazing woman. Jon, just a bite, all right?”
Jon took a bite. He missed Val’s eggs. Val was probably dead. He wondered if her family would ever find out.
“Miranda would never forgive us if we kept it from her,” Lisa said. “Go to the hospital and tell her.”
“Can I bring Sarah?” Jon asked. She’d told Jon she wouldn’t go to the clinic in case he needed her.
“No,” Lisa said. “Miranda’s met Sarah what, two times? Three? Her baby’s due any minute and she’s about to learn her mother died. She doesn’t need to have a stranger in the room. When you come back, I want you to look after Gabe while Carrie does the housecleaning. Sarah can keep you company then. Eat some more, Jon. You know how lucky you are to have a breakfast like this?”