Read Online Boy on a Black Horse by Nancy; Springer - Free Book Online Page B

eyes,” Liana said. “I think he’s had awful things done to him. I think at the very least he was abused. Beaten.”
    At first when she said that I couldn’t think or breathe. Then a minute later it all made sense, everything about Chav, but understanding it felt like somebody was beating on me. I hurt all over and had to curl up. Oh my God. Who could do such a thing to a beautiful child named Chav?
    Grandpa was staring up at Liana, looking shocked. “You don’t want that kind of kid in your house,” he told her, though not like he was angry at her anymore—instead he sounded scared. “You could wake up with a knife at your throat.”
    â€œDad, that’s ridiculous.”
    â€œNo, it’s not. There’s a pattern with these battered kids, and that pattern is that they turn out just like the people who did it to them. They don’t care what happens to them, and they’ve got so much rage and pain—where do you think mass murderers come from, and serial killers? Hitler was abused as a child. Show me a violent criminal and I’ll show you somebody who was abused as a child.”
    â€œBut the pattern can be broken,” Liana said. “Not every abused child turns into a criminal.”
    â€œThe point is, you’re taking a terrible chance.” He was serious, pleading with her.
    â€œI’ll risk it.”
    â€œLiana, you’re my daughter! I don’t want to risk it. Let me get him out of here.”
    â€œIsn’t he innocent until proved guilty?”
    â€œAll I’m saying is, let the professionals take care of him.”
    â€œNo. He came to me.”
    â€œLiana, be reasonable!”
    She stood up and said, “If I were reasonable, I would have given up a long time ago. I need to live my life, Dad. Now, if you’re not going to drink your coffee, go on home and go to bed. You can come back in the morning.”
    There was some more yelling. That is, he yelled. She never raised her voice at him. But in the end he did what she said.

C HAPTER
    7
    In the dead of night Chav lay tensely awake, staring into the darkness.
    Certain the gadjos were asleep at last, he swung his bare feet out of the double bed he was sharing with Baval. His brother immediately took over the whole bed, still sleeping soundly. Baval could sleep through anything, but some nights Chav hardly slept at all, and this was one of them. Restless, he padded into the hallway.
    The feeling in his chest tonight was not so much pressure as pain because Chavali was sick and it was all his fault. Now here he was back in a house again—his mind knew it was better for Chavali to be in a warm bed under a roof, but the rest of him was in a panic, screaming to run, run. Once he had lived in a house like this, even bigger than this, and he remembered being thrown against its walls, and he remembered how blood had looked, splattered on its carpeted floors. His blood. His mother’s blood.
    Houses were places where terrible things could happen. They had locks on the doors. They had walls to hide from the world what went on inside.
    Chav walked softly toward Chavali’s room. Being on the move helped him feel a little better—it would be harder for punishment to find him if he was moving. In the peach-colored bedroom he stood awhile listening to his sister’s peaceful breathing. By the dim glow of her nightlight he could not see the rash all over her, even on her eyelids. That helped some. But looking at her small face was like looking at angel goodness, at perfection. He did not deserve to be her brother. He had to leave her room.
    Back down the hallway he barefooted, glancing into doorways as he passed them—Baval’s room again, the bathroom, and Gray’s room, where a hundred model horses stood alertly watching her sleep. All those plastic horses, but no real ones. Rom was far from here, out in the stable. Chav wished he were there with the