coughed, trying to rid his voice of the hoarse edge. "I believe they came through all right. A few dollars ahead, in fact."
Jack grimaced in sympathy. "Welcome to New York. Guess we should've warned you--"
"It's no one's fault but mine." Which only made him feel worse. "Anyway, I'm glad Dan's got the job. He'll be able to buy his own radio parts."
A corner of Jack's mouth lifted. "A good thing, since I've got nothing left to trade."
"I'd give you my suitcase but it's all I have left, myself."
"Yeah, hang on to it. Always good to have something to hock. So--" A note of concern superseded the humor in Jack's voice. "You're leaving?"
"Yes--" Sutton laid a steadying hand on the bannister. "Tell Esther good-bye for me, would you? She's busy and I didn't get to say a proper farewell. So if you would."
"Sure. You don't want to wait around? Have some supper? You look like you could use a bite to eat."
"I'm all right. Thank you, Jack. I'm sorry..." He wasn't sure what he was sorry about, in Jack's case. He hadn't really thought they might be friends. "Well, I'm sorry to have to go so suddenly."
He held out a hand and Jack took it, all the while watching him with something inexplicably like regret. "So long. Guess I'll see you around."
"Yes, well, probably not." He cleared his throat, but said nothing else. He didn't know how he could feel so poorly and still be on his feet. Even his thoughts seemed to shift and fade before he could make sense of them. Once he stepped away from the shelter of his room under the stairs, away from the familiar street corner--his corner of a vast, cold city--he would keep walking, into the dark, until it swallowed him up. He would find a place where he could curl up and drift to sleep as easily as taking a breath and letting it out.
He started to turn away and a hand settled in the crook of his arm.
"You going back to Topeka?"
"No, I don't think so." He tried to keep moving, but Jack held on.
"You have any money?"
"I'll be fine--"
"It's nine-thirty, Sutton. And pouring down rain, and I'm guessing you don't have a nickel for a cup of coffee. Where the hell are you going?"
The question confused him, as did Jack's concern. "I'll find something. I'll be all right."
"Something?" Jack shook his head. "The water's cold as hell this time of year."
"It won't bother me long." The words dropped from his mouth without emotion. He wondered if he had the strength left to walk away. Jack's hand on his arm felt like the only thing holding him upright.
"Better wait until morning." Though Jack teased, his grip was resolute. "More likely to be someone around who's willing to fish you out. Harry's always telling me to wait till I'm well rested before I do anything especially stupid. It takes more energy than you'd think."
"Sometimes you can think too much. Just let me go. You don't owe me anything."
"I owe everyone," Jack said with a laugh. "Anyway, what about that ten cents?"
That damned ten cents. From somewhere deep down, where Sutton had thought no feeling was left, a laugh welled, bone-weary and rough. It crumbled what remained of his composure, and his eyes burned. As he sucked in a breath and tried to hold himself together, Jack rambled on.
"I always square my debts. One way or another." He dug a crumpled kerchief from one pocket and tucked it into Sutton's hand like a spy passing documents. "Hey, you know what, I've got a place you can bunk a while--"
"No. I can't pay you for rent or food--"
"You'll find another job. Anyway, you'd be doing me as good a turn. My place is too big for one. It's like wandering around a damned tomb. I've been thinking about finding a roommate. And just by coincidence, here you are, looking for a room."
Jack was willing to help him--Jack, who barely seemed capable of looking out for himself. Sutton didn't know what to make of it. He couldn't guess Jack's reasons and Jack didn't give him the chance to mull it over. "The tough job now is getting you out before Ida
Jack grimaced in sympathy. "Welcome to New York. Guess we should've warned you--"
"It's no one's fault but mine." Which only made him feel worse. "Anyway, I'm glad Dan's got the job. He'll be able to buy his own radio parts."
A corner of Jack's mouth lifted. "A good thing, since I've got nothing left to trade."
"I'd give you my suitcase but it's all I have left, myself."
"Yeah, hang on to it. Always good to have something to hock. So--" A note of concern superseded the humor in Jack's voice. "You're leaving?"
"Yes--" Sutton laid a steadying hand on the bannister. "Tell Esther good-bye for me, would you? She's busy and I didn't get to say a proper farewell. So if you would."
"Sure. You don't want to wait around? Have some supper? You look like you could use a bite to eat."
"I'm all right. Thank you, Jack. I'm sorry..." He wasn't sure what he was sorry about, in Jack's case. He hadn't really thought they might be friends. "Well, I'm sorry to have to go so suddenly."
He held out a hand and Jack took it, all the while watching him with something inexplicably like regret. "So long. Guess I'll see you around."
"Yes, well, probably not." He cleared his throat, but said nothing else. He didn't know how he could feel so poorly and still be on his feet. Even his thoughts seemed to shift and fade before he could make sense of them. Once he stepped away from the shelter of his room under the stairs, away from the familiar street corner--his corner of a vast, cold city--he would keep walking, into the dark, until it swallowed him up. He would find a place where he could curl up and drift to sleep as easily as taking a breath and letting it out.
He started to turn away and a hand settled in the crook of his arm.
"You going back to Topeka?"
"No, I don't think so." He tried to keep moving, but Jack held on.
"You have any money?"
"I'll be fine--"
"It's nine-thirty, Sutton. And pouring down rain, and I'm guessing you don't have a nickel for a cup of coffee. Where the hell are you going?"
The question confused him, as did Jack's concern. "I'll find something. I'll be all right."
"Something?" Jack shook his head. "The water's cold as hell this time of year."
"It won't bother me long." The words dropped from his mouth without emotion. He wondered if he had the strength left to walk away. Jack's hand on his arm felt like the only thing holding him upright.
"Better wait until morning." Though Jack teased, his grip was resolute. "More likely to be someone around who's willing to fish you out. Harry's always telling me to wait till I'm well rested before I do anything especially stupid. It takes more energy than you'd think."
"Sometimes you can think too much. Just let me go. You don't owe me anything."
"I owe everyone," Jack said with a laugh. "Anyway, what about that ten cents?"
That damned ten cents. From somewhere deep down, where Sutton had thought no feeling was left, a laugh welled, bone-weary and rough. It crumbled what remained of his composure, and his eyes burned. As he sucked in a breath and tried to hold himself together, Jack rambled on.
"I always square my debts. One way or another." He dug a crumpled kerchief from one pocket and tucked it into Sutton's hand like a spy passing documents. "Hey, you know what, I've got a place you can bunk a while--"
"No. I can't pay you for rent or food--"
"You'll find another job. Anyway, you'd be doing me as good a turn. My place is too big for one. It's like wandering around a damned tomb. I've been thinking about finding a roommate. And just by coincidence, here you are, looking for a room."
Jack was willing to help him--Jack, who barely seemed capable of looking out for himself. Sutton didn't know what to make of it. He couldn't guess Jack's reasons and Jack didn't give him the chance to mull it over. "The tough job now is getting you out before Ida
Similar Books
