Seeing him calmly reading a book – flipping through the pages every couple of minutes, only pausing to scratch an itch – was a relief. He paused for a moment to give me a smile and just as fast went back to his reading. Job was content with the books I had given him the night before and had already created two piles, one on each side of him.
On one pile he had stacked all of my romance novels, a few thrillers, and a psychology textbook. The other had the dictionary, which I had assumed would be the most helpful, along with the graphic novels that Chase had left behind. In his hands was the large compellation book of Shakespeare plays.
I had a love for his work, and bought it on clearance at a book store many years before. It was sad to see such a great piece of work nearly being thrown away due to lack of interest by today’s readers. Any time I had run out of things to read, or found myself bored by the same plot, different characters, I found myself pulling it out to read through the many comedies or tragedies – usually tragedies in the more recent years. Most I had read so many times that the pages had become stuck together from whatever I had been eating at the time. There were creases on pages I had marked to remind me where I had left off. At some parts, I had underlined a quote that I enjoyed the most and didn’t want to forget if the need were ever to arise.
I had explained to Job that the book was a little advanced for him and to wait to read it till he had a better understanding of the language. The last thing I wanted him to believe is that we would ever talk like that on a daily basis. As complete as it was, there were no footnotes or explanations of the language, which for me wasn’t an issue, but for him it could create some interesting conversations.
“Thought I told you to wait till you had read some other things first?”
“I did. I finished all of these first and then started this one.” He pointed to the stack of romance and thrillers without looking up. There had to have been at least a dozen books in the pile – most were at least 600 pages long, if not more. I had only been gone for a little more than eight hours, and he had breezed through over half of what I had left him.
“You skimmed through them, right? There is no way you actually read them from cover to cover.”
“No, I read them. Do you want to quiz me on it?” He seemed a bit put off that I would interrupt him again, placing his hand between the pages, looking up as though I should be doing something else at the moment. He was impatiently waiting for me to stop the interrogation so he could go back to his play. I could tell from where he had stopped that he was reading “Romeo and Juliet.” I had almost every line memorized.
“And you understand it all? I mean – you said…but…I’m really confused.” I put my hands up and dropped them to my sides several times as I tried to form a coherent sentence. I couldn’t grasp the concept.
I stood completely baffled as to how someone who had said they had read very little could pick up a psychology book and read it cover to cover and actually retain any of it. I had taken the class twice and only managed to pass due to a very giving bell curve.
He continued to look at me with his one eyebrow raised, trying to make sense of my babble, yet still miffed about the interruption.
“Forget it,” I said. “Apparently I should know something that I don’t. Just make sure you give me a list of books you want before I leave tomorrow. I assume you can write, too.” I spun around, taking a few steps away. I knew I had been a little too harsh, but I had been looking forward to coming home from the moment I had left the house. I had hoped to spend time with him, to learn more about him.
“Emily – you don’t have to go. Please come back.” His voice was so smooth and relaxed I would have come back no matter what he had said. His agitation was gone, and I knew before I turned back he would have set the book down to give me his full attention. I was right.
“I can read,” he said. “What I would consider a little might be different from what you see it as. I can read fast, too. I do understand this one, but I’m taking it much slower. As for writing, I never tried, but it sounds like something I want to learn.” He was grinning, trying to convince me that he hadn’t deceived me. He moved the stack of unread books to the other side, patting the space for me to sit by him.
As alluring as it was, I stayed in place, looking down at the ground. I wanted nothing more than to sit and talk for hours, but being so close to him – feeling his warmth, the soft touch of his hands…I had to stay or I would again send the wrong message, and he would know I had bluffed about being friends.
I had spent the better part of the previous night fighting with my feelings over him. On one hand, I could give in and let my guard down and see where it would take me. If he left, I would be alone and have to start over again, moping about my loss, eventually letting it slip to the wrong person. If he stayed, I could keep him from view. Eventually get caught and lose him anyway. On the other hand, I could just stay away, ignoring his requests for close company, keeping a safe distance so the temptation wouldn’t be there. He would be able to leave without looking back. I had been assuming that he could even feel that way. Every mannerism or expression told me he did, but as far as I knew it might be a culture difference.
“I better get upstairs and get you dinner – any requests?” I forced myself to ask.
“Anything without onions.” If he was disappointed by my rejection, he was hiding it better than I would have thought. He kept his smile going, hoping that I would at least laugh at his little joke.
“I think Sally mentioned you need to stop eating junk food, and I need to give you more stuff with calcium, to help with the healing. I hear they are a great source.” If he felt the need to be humorous, I could get him back.
The look of disgust was priceless. He not only cringed, but stuck his tongue out, making a gagging noise. “I’m thinking I’ll be here for a long time, then,” he said, sounding like he was choking on the thought.
“Ok, ok – I’ll find something to make you that’s onion-free.”
Rummaging through the freezer, I was able to dig up a bag of shrimp pasta with peppers and broccoli. I had some milk left in the fridge, and sniffed it to check if it was any good. It was still within drinking range, and I poured two glasses. After heating the skillet for the pasta and dumping in the contents, I had a while to wait for it to cook. With nothing better to do than kill time, I went back to the living room to find a pen and paper so that I could start my list of things to get the next time I was out.
I walked over to the end table and opened the junk drawer. Searching for the pen at the bottom, my hand ran across the links of the bracelet, still spackled with dried blood. Pulling it out of the drawer, I looked at it for a moment, sickened by its sight. Its copper shine gleamed in the light of the room. I wanted to be rid of it forever. It was a reminder of the unspeakable act Derrick had committed on someone so innocent. I could feel a wave of nausea start, like it had that night, and was compelled to toss it back in the drawer to be forgotten again.
Instead, I walked back to the kitchen, prepared to drop it in the disposal and flick the switch, hoping it would shred the chain into fine pieces. I caught myself before letting go, rinsing it off in the sink. I could put it to good use instead. As Derrick had said, it was expensive; selling it off for any amount would be an investment into Job’s safety for the future. Tossing it in my purse on the counter, I didn’t give one more thought to it. I finished up dinner and took everything back down to my favorite companion. We would enjoy each other’s company in the quiet room and he would pick up the knack of writing faster than ever expected.
*****
Morning felt as though it came too early. I had a dreamless night on the couch, sleeping peacefully without crowded thoughts of Job in my head to keep me up. He had insisted on learning so much writing, my hand had cramped after hours of going through print and cursive, both uppercase and lowercase. He had asked to see me sign my name over and over, but when it came time for him to try he was at a loss. H
e had no middle or last name. With his language so incomprehensible, he didn’t know any translation of his name to the English language, and so fell silent and decided to stop. Even as I suggested he could pick his own names, the moment was bittersweet, as it was another reminder of his slave life.
After a shower and change of clothes into a pair of shorts and pale yellow tank top that hugged my body, I put on a small amount of makeup, which I’d worn every day since the disastrous night. I wasn’t sure who I was trying to impress. I was comfortable enough with my body to know I didn’t need the extras, but it made me feel good to dress up a little every now and then.
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I could see sweat on Job’s brow from another failed attempt at trying to move his leg before I could stop him. His shoulders were slumped from exhaustion. He still flashed a grin my way, but I knew he was nevertheless upset over his condition. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night – haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. “You need to stop worrying about it,” I said, trying to be as supportive as possible. “It’ll happen when it happens. There’s no need to rush.”
He smiled again, but remained despondent, putting his head back down, still fighting off the sleep he needed. I wasn’t going to force him into a conversation he didn’t want. I had learned that, when something was on his mind, it was best to let it go and wait till he was ready. I had my speculations that it was more than just being able to wiggle some toes, but I knew not to press the issue.
“I’m going to run out and get some things. Anything you want, other than a remote?”
He shrugged his shoulders, still looking at his lap. I set breakfast down next to him, hoping it would lighten his mood. He didn’t even glance at it as I stepped away.
“It better be gone by the time I get back, and you better get some sleep. I know you were up all night.”
I felt like a mother talking to a child who had played video games till all hours of the morning. He still gave no reaction, and I wasn’t going to wait for one. I hated walking away when he was like this, but he wasn’t giving me a choice.
Walking outside, the summer heat hit me like a ton of bricks. The August swelter was in need of some rain to cool things down. Even as early as it was, opening the car door blasted me with heat, and I could feel my makeup starting to melt on my face. I rolled down every window in the beater and cranked the air as high as it would go, hoping to cool it off before having to drive up to Clarion.
Traveling there was my best chance of finding a pawn shop while keeping clear of anyone that could recognize me. I withdrew a large amount of cash at a local ATM before making my way west along the highway. I planned on using the double pay Sally had granted me as a backup in case the bracelet turned out to be as worthless as Derrick. I had already made up my mind that I would get him some new clothes, since the ones he was wearing were shredded. I would have to wait to give him most of them until he could get up and moving again. He would need shoes and everything else. I had used one of his shoes to give me an idea on size, but I was still unsure what dimensions he would wear in jeans.
I called Chase, hoping he could get away long enough to give me some ideas and maybe answer some questions that had been nagging me.
He answered on the second ring with dread in his voice, waiting to hear bad news. I had forgotten to call him after our turn of events, and he would be glad to know that yet again we were able to save him.
“Are you ok to talk right now?” I asked, hoping Derrick was far enough away, in case Chase slipped up.
“Yeah, I’m just running a load in the truck alone, today. I have a few minutes. You know, I think I got Derrick off your back for a little while. He asked about you, and I lied and told him you were feeling better. I told him to just give you time, that you’re a bit of a hermit and you need to warm up to him.”
“Thanks – I think. Not to change the subject, but you know Job is ok. We didn’t have to cut anything off. He managed to pull a one-eighty just in the nick of time.”
I could hear him breathe a sigh of relief, happy to hear that everything had worked itself out. “That’s great! I’m glad to hear it. I don’t know if I could have kept working here if I had known something had happened. So why did it take you so long to say anything? You had me worried for the last few days.”
“I’ve been back to work and taking care of him. I have my work cut out for me. I’m sorry I forgot.” I didn’t want to let on that I had enjoyed the last few days of being with Job. I would never hear the end of it.
“Excuses, excuses. I think you owe me one. I think I should drop by and get some laundry done, and I haven’t had a square meal in weeks.”
As much as I wanted to see my brother, I didn’t want him sharing my time with Job. I knew if I said no, however, I would have to listen to whining until I gave in. It would only be one night, and then I could have him to myself again.
“Sure, but only if you can help me with a few things. I need to know what size you wear in pants.”
“Are you going to buy me new jeans? You shouldn’t. How did you know I needed them?” As much as I just wanted an answer from him and not the repartee, I had missed it, and laughed along with him.
“They are for Job. I don’t have a clue what to get. I don’t even know how tall he is.”
“Well, of course he is taller than me and maybe a bit smaller around the waist, so I have no idea. I think you’re on your own with this one. Did you ask him?”
“You’re a real big help, you know? And no, I didn’t ask him. I wanted to surprise him, and you better keep your mouth shut about it if you plan on getting anything out of me.”
“Ok, ok. Anything else I can help you with?”
“Yeah. I was wondering about his quick turnaround. Do you know how he might have done that? I know it wasn’t just by chance that it happened. He did something, but I have no idea what.”
“Hate to tell you, but I don’t know, and I don’t think he came with an instruction manual. Maybe try to look into books about him. I’m sure there has to be something out there about it.” He sounded just as confused as me.
“Thanks. I might do that.” I wasn’t sure what store would have the biology of Sayners, but it was worth a look while I was out.
“Well, I have to go. Good luck with everything, and see you at dinner.”
At least talking to Chase wasn’t a useless conversation: I had learned that Derrick was backing off. It made my life easier to hear he was not going to be a problem for a while.
The phone call lasted long enough to get me to town, and I searched for a hock shop first, before going out to the mall. I finally found one on the corner with its bright flashing neon stating We buy gold, platinum and copper. As run down as it looked, with its grime-covered, barred windows, and a hand-written open sign hanging from the door, it would be better than hanging onto the scrap in my purse. It would be justice for Job and a bit of freedom for me.
Parking the car around the side, making sure to lock it behind me, I held onto my purse as tight as possible, worried that at any time someone would take it, along with the money and bracelet. As much as I was ready to get rid of the bracelet, a purse snatching was not something I had in mind.
I had to press the buzzer on the door and wait for it to buzz back, letting me know it was unlocked. The lights were dimmer than even the ones in my basement, with the only bright lights reflecting all the jewelry inside the counters – unwanted treasures or trinkets sold by someone on their last dollar, looking for a quick fix from financial strain. The shop was stifling hot, with a grimy fan blowing more dirt than air around. The guy behind the counter smelled nearly as bad as the place itself. Sweat rolled off the greasy hair pasted to his head. His glasses were as thick as Coke bottles, and he grinned a toothless smile at me. It took everything in me to smile back at the repulsive little man as he wiped a spot of something crusty on his shirt, trying to make himself more attractive then he could ever be.
“
I have a bracelet that broke, and would like to sell,” I said, trying to remember to breathe through my mouth and not my nose, hoping to survive the odor around me.
“I’m not taking any gold right now. I can’t sell it and no one wants it anymore.” He wiped his nose with his hand, then sniffled back some mucus, swallowing it down his throat. My gag reflex was kicking in, and I looked away so the revolting man wouldn’t make me sick.
“It’s copper,” I said. “I know it was expensive, but I’m not sure what I can get for it.”
“Well, copper I can do.”
I pulled the chain out of the purse and lay it on the glass top, so I didn’t have to touch his hands. He picked it up and took off his glasses, putting on another pair – thicker than the first, with an eyepiece attached. He held it up across his hand, holding it close to the lighted case, turning it over and making small grunting sounds as he snorted back again.
Taking a long instrument, he scratched the surface to make sure it wasn’t plated, and finally put it back on the counter. He looked up at me, his eyes huge from the thick panes he was looking through. “Don’t know why you would want to sell it. I can just fix the clasp, and it would be good as new. I won’t even charge you, since you look like such a nice girl.” I could see him looking me up and down, hoping to win me over with some charm he had none of. Wearing the tank may have been a bad idea.
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