Darkness peering by Alice Blanchard Page B

tiger, its jaws opened wide enough to swallow him whole.
Taking the nearest door on her right, she walked down a long corridor
to Room 138 and knocked on the door. The teacher, a perky hrunette in
a blue cardigan, swung around and smiled at her through the glass.
"Can I help you?"

"I'm Detective Storrow. I was supposed to meet Ozzie Rudd here at
three." She glanced apologetically at her watch. "I'm a little
early."
    "C'mon in. My name's Peggy Morrissey."
    About a dozen eight-to-ten-year-olds turned toward her as the door
thwunked shut behind her, their eyes alternately milky or roving or
piercingly focused. Some of the children had visible deformities,
whereas others were perfectly normal-looking. A boy in a wheelchair,
his arms twisted like pretzels, directed his motorized chair by
manipulating a lever attached to his chin. Moving slowly toward her,
he parked a few feet away to gaze at her through his Coke-bottle
lenses. She assumed he could make out the general shape of her, that
from his point of view, she'd entered the classroom and stirred up the
shadows.
    "This is Bradley," Peggy Morrissey said. "Bradley, say hello to
Detective Storrow. She's a police officer."
    "Hello," the boy said.
    "Hello, Bradley."
    Peggy walked away, leaving them alone together. Bradley had the
cockeyed look of a Picasso portrait, eyes slightly crossed, face
stretched out where it shouldn't be, cheekbones two triangles under the
artist's brush. A sweep of black hair drifted across his eyes, and a
tangerine button on his sweatshirt announced "I have permission to
roam." He jerked his head and the wheelchair shot forward half a foot.
"You a cop?"
    "I'm a detective, yes."

    "Do you have a gun?"
    "I have my se vice weapon."
    "What's a service weapon?"
    "It's a gun."
    He had an exuberant laugh, one that came deep from his belly, air
pushing through his nose with foghorn force. His fingers were twisted
rigidly together, like Play-Doh that's been left out overnight.
    "I like your laugh," she told him.
    "You do?" He seemed delighted.
    In a far corner, the other children were cleaning up after an art
project. Water ran in the sink as they took turns washing their hands
and groping for the paper towel dispenser.
    "What're you doin'?" Bradley asked her.
    "I'm supposed to be meeting someone."
    "Who?"
    "A man."
    He looked confused. "What man?"
    "His name is Ozzie Rudd."
    "Colette's father?"
    "Yes," she said.
    He stared at the floor for a moment, then burst into song.
    "Oh I had the time of my life ... and I owe it all to you-only
you....."" There was no self-consciousness in his singing.
    No artifice. His face filled like a sail with joy.
    Now another student tapped her way toward them, a little girl of about
eight. She walked hunched over, arms clutching invisible bundles, head
bowed, eyes squeezed shut. In one hand, she carried a cane caned out
of a branch, its pointed tip dulled from months of skittering across
the school's tiled floors. She put her hand on Bradley's head and
probed his face with soft fingers, and Bradley laughed.
    "Hi, Colette."
    She gave a delighted squeal, her overall strap sliding off one

    shoulder, Roger Rabbit peeking out from the turquoise T-shirt. "Hi,
Bradley poop."
    "You're a poop."
    They both giggled helplessly.
    The door opened behind them and in walked Ozzie Rudd. Rachel hadn't
seen him in quite a while, and his appearance shocked her. There were
circles under his faded blue eyes and his forehead was taller than she
remembered. She could tell he was holding in his gut. He wore a plaid
flannel shirt and straight leg jeans but still had the
honey-and-whiskey voice that appealed so to women.
    "Hi, Raeh."
    "Hi, Ozzie."
    "You meet Colette?" He lifted his daughter into his arms and,
squealing with delight, Colette traced his weathered face with eager
hands and kissed the tip of his nose. He laughed as he bounced her in
his arms. "Oof, you're getting big."
    "Hi, Daddy!"
    "Have a good