child, who stood motionless at her mother's side, staring at Miss Beryl. Or she would have been staring, if something hadn't been wrong with one of her eyes, which looked off at a tragic angle, at nothing at all. Miss Beryl felt her heart quake but was only able to say, "This child should be wearing a coat. She's shivering."
"Yeah, well, I told her to stay in the car," the young woman said, "so whose fault is it?"
"Yours," Miss Beryl said without hesitation.
"Right, mine," the young woman said, as if she'd heard this before.
"Listen. Do me a mega favor and mind your own business, okay?" The sheer outrageousness of this suggestion left Miss Beryl momentarily speechless. She hadn't been sassed since she retired from teaching, and she'd forgotten what she used to do about it. The moment of stunned silence was apparently enough for the young woman to reconsider her tactics.
"Listen," she said, her shoulders slumping.
"Don't mind me, okay?
Everything is mega--screwed up right now. I don't usually yell at old ladies." Just children. Miss Beryl almost said, but held her tongue.
That was how she'd always handled sassing, she remembered. She'd said nothing and glared at the miscreant until it dawned on him or her that a serious mistake had been made and that Miss Beryl hadn't been the one who'd made it.
"It's just Birdbrain here," she explained.
"I'd like to give her to you for about an hour, just for laughs." They were both studying the silent child now.
The little girl, for her part, might as well have been standing all alone in the hallway for all the sense she conveyed of being in the proximity of other human beings.
"Hello, sweetheart," Miss Beryl said, and hoped that she wasn't glowering at the child as she had been at her mother. She'd more than once been accused of frightening small children, though no one had ever explained to her precisely what she was doing to frighten them.
"That's a good idea," the young woman said.
"Make friends with this nice old lady while Mommy makes a phone call." Then, to Miss Beryl, "He got a phone up there?"
"Use mine," Miss Beryl said, still not sure she should be allowing the young woman into her tenant's flat. Not that Sully probably would have NOBODY'S FOOL 55 minded or had any cause to object, since he never locked up when he left.
"Suit yourself," the young woman said, slipping her shoes off.
"I wasn't planning on stealing anything. Take your shoes off, Birdbrain.
We're going in here for a minute, I guess."
The child was wearing cheap blue canvas tennis shoes, and Miss Beryl could tell that they were wet, as were the child's socks.
"Don't touch nothing in here," the young woman warned the child.
"These aren't our things, and Mommy doesn't have money to pay for what you bust." Miss Beryl showed the young woman where the telephone was in the front room.
The young woman picked up the receiver and looked at Miss Beryl.
"Thanks," she said.
"Been awhile since I've seen one of these," she added in reference to its rotary dial. In fact, the phone did go back about thirty years.
"Regular museum you got in here," she said, looking around the room.
Before Miss Beryl could respond to this observation, the young woman was talking into the phone.
"Ma. He there yet?" A brief pause.
"No, I'm at the old lady's downstairs. I don't think she's too thrilled about us going up there." Miss Beryl could hear the tinny voice of whoever she was talking to, but not clearly enough to make out any words. She still couldn't take her eyes off the child, who stood patiently at her mother's side, facing Miss Beryl. The child's good eye was taking her in, Miss Beryl decided.
"The more I think about it, the more I doubt he's even coming, Ma.
He's just pulling your chain. How the hell should I know? He probably guessed. He's probably threatening everybody. That's the way he does things. Threaten everybody. That way you're sure. You want to know how I know? Because if he was coming here like he
"Yeah, well, I told her to stay in the car," the young woman said, "so whose fault is it?"
"Yours," Miss Beryl said without hesitation.
"Right, mine," the young woman said, as if she'd heard this before.
"Listen. Do me a mega favor and mind your own business, okay?" The sheer outrageousness of this suggestion left Miss Beryl momentarily speechless. She hadn't been sassed since she retired from teaching, and she'd forgotten what she used to do about it. The moment of stunned silence was apparently enough for the young woman to reconsider her tactics.
"Listen," she said, her shoulders slumping.
"Don't mind me, okay?
Everything is mega--screwed up right now. I don't usually yell at old ladies." Just children. Miss Beryl almost said, but held her tongue.
That was how she'd always handled sassing, she remembered. She'd said nothing and glared at the miscreant until it dawned on him or her that a serious mistake had been made and that Miss Beryl hadn't been the one who'd made it.
"It's just Birdbrain here," she explained.
"I'd like to give her to you for about an hour, just for laughs." They were both studying the silent child now.
The little girl, for her part, might as well have been standing all alone in the hallway for all the sense she conveyed of being in the proximity of other human beings.
"Hello, sweetheart," Miss Beryl said, and hoped that she wasn't glowering at the child as she had been at her mother. She'd more than once been accused of frightening small children, though no one had ever explained to her precisely what she was doing to frighten them.
"That's a good idea," the young woman said.
"Make friends with this nice old lady while Mommy makes a phone call." Then, to Miss Beryl, "He got a phone up there?"
"Use mine," Miss Beryl said, still not sure she should be allowing the young woman into her tenant's flat. Not that Sully probably would have NOBODY'S FOOL 55 minded or had any cause to object, since he never locked up when he left.
"Suit yourself," the young woman said, slipping her shoes off.
"I wasn't planning on stealing anything. Take your shoes off, Birdbrain.
We're going in here for a minute, I guess."
The child was wearing cheap blue canvas tennis shoes, and Miss Beryl could tell that they were wet, as were the child's socks.
"Don't touch nothing in here," the young woman warned the child.
"These aren't our things, and Mommy doesn't have money to pay for what you bust." Miss Beryl showed the young woman where the telephone was in the front room.
The young woman picked up the receiver and looked at Miss Beryl.
"Thanks," she said.
"Been awhile since I've seen one of these," she added in reference to its rotary dial. In fact, the phone did go back about thirty years.
"Regular museum you got in here," she said, looking around the room.
Before Miss Beryl could respond to this observation, the young woman was talking into the phone.
"Ma. He there yet?" A brief pause.
"No, I'm at the old lady's downstairs. I don't think she's too thrilled about us going up there." Miss Beryl could hear the tinny voice of whoever she was talking to, but not clearly enough to make out any words. She still couldn't take her eyes off the child, who stood patiently at her mother's side, facing Miss Beryl. The child's good eye was taking her in, Miss Beryl decided.
"The more I think about it, the more I doubt he's even coming, Ma.
He's just pulling your chain. How the hell should I know? He probably guessed. He's probably threatening everybody. That's the way he does things. Threaten everybody. That way you're sure. You want to know how I know? Because if he was coming here like he
Similar Books
