I’d done, I should’ve been exhausted—but I wasn’t. I was too excited at how things had gone, what it might mean, and it was all I could do to keep it inside.
The others were sitting around up-top, slowly appearing out of the smoke as I approached like a circle of stones.
“Clancy! Where’ve you been?” Lena asked, obviously having heard my approach.
“Sorry. I went looking for more water,” I said, taking out the bottles I’d liberated from St. Joseph’s. “All I could find . . . Oh, and I got something for Jimmy.”
I thought bringing the little guy back a mini-screen was a real brainwave, a distraction from my behavior, but he didn’t react the way I’d expected.
In fact, it was Delilah who eventually took it from me. “Oh God!” she groaned. “I thought things had been peaceful.”
No matter how she might feel about reuniting Jimmy with his precious technology, she still started to look for the power switch.
“Don’t turn it on,” he told her.
“Why not?” she asked.
There was a pause, then little Arturo started giggling. “He doesn’t want you to see him.”
“Gordie!” I groaned, realizing he must’ve told Arturo the whole story.
“What?” Delilah asked.
Jimmy knew he had no choice, that he had to tell her. “They know it was me who brought down the satellites,” he admitted sheepishly.
“ What? ” she cried.
He played it down, like it was nothing, that there was no way they could be sure—and anyways, as soon as the fires died down and we got away, what would it matter? But Delilah was a long way from happy, especially when Arturo blurted out there was a price on his head.
“ Jimmy! ”
“Public Enemy Number One,” he nodded, with just the faintest suspicion of pride.
“How much is it?” she asked. “’bout time I got something for all these years of aggravation.”
“Nowhere near enough,” he told her.
Delilah stood there for several moments, glaring at him as if ten cents might be a temptation. “Where’s that knife?” she asked.
He knew what she had in mind immediately. “I’m not cutting my ponytail off—not for you or anyone!”
“You’ll cut that stupid thing off and shave what little other hair you got,” she told him.
“ What? ”
“Clancy?” Delilah implored. I raised one hand in a gesture of submission and used the other to tug Lena downstairs to the crypt. I couldn’t go another moment without telling her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, once we were alone.
I hesitated for a moment, suddenly not sure how she’d take this. “I been to see someone.”
“Who?”
“A techno-doctor . . . Dr. Evan Simon.”
Just for a moment there was this expression on her face, like a close friend she’d fallen out with a long time ago had walked into the room. “Why?”
“You know why.”
“Clancy! I’m never going to get my sight back—”
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean?”
I told her the whole story, all the places I went, the way Dr. Simon’s name kept cropping up, and finally, about barging into his office, and most important of all, that he thought there might be a chance of restoring her sight. “But first he has to see you—do some tests.”
It was like all the rigidity went out of her body. She gave this kind of little whimper as if the subject was just too painful, and slowly slumped down the wall to the floor.
“I did it for you!” I told her, not understanding her reaction. “I don’t care if you’re blind—well, I do, course, but . . . on your behalf. I want you to be happy.”
“Oh, Clancy,” she sighed. “I am happy. With you—”
“You were happy. On the Island.”
“Yeah. What does that say about me?” she replied. “Everyone else’s life was hell.” Again there was silence. She reached out, took my hand and tugged me down next to her.
“You gotta give it a try,” I said. “You got to.”
“What about money?” she asked.
“He’s doing some research. He
The others were sitting around up-top, slowly appearing out of the smoke as I approached like a circle of stones.
“Clancy! Where’ve you been?” Lena asked, obviously having heard my approach.
“Sorry. I went looking for more water,” I said, taking out the bottles I’d liberated from St. Joseph’s. “All I could find . . . Oh, and I got something for Jimmy.”
I thought bringing the little guy back a mini-screen was a real brainwave, a distraction from my behavior, but he didn’t react the way I’d expected.
In fact, it was Delilah who eventually took it from me. “Oh God!” she groaned. “I thought things had been peaceful.”
No matter how she might feel about reuniting Jimmy with his precious technology, she still started to look for the power switch.
“Don’t turn it on,” he told her.
“Why not?” she asked.
There was a pause, then little Arturo started giggling. “He doesn’t want you to see him.”
“Gordie!” I groaned, realizing he must’ve told Arturo the whole story.
“What?” Delilah asked.
Jimmy knew he had no choice, that he had to tell her. “They know it was me who brought down the satellites,” he admitted sheepishly.
“ What? ” she cried.
He played it down, like it was nothing, that there was no way they could be sure—and anyways, as soon as the fires died down and we got away, what would it matter? But Delilah was a long way from happy, especially when Arturo blurted out there was a price on his head.
“ Jimmy! ”
“Public Enemy Number One,” he nodded, with just the faintest suspicion of pride.
“How much is it?” she asked. “’bout time I got something for all these years of aggravation.”
“Nowhere near enough,” he told her.
Delilah stood there for several moments, glaring at him as if ten cents might be a temptation. “Where’s that knife?” she asked.
He knew what she had in mind immediately. “I’m not cutting my ponytail off—not for you or anyone!”
“You’ll cut that stupid thing off and shave what little other hair you got,” she told him.
“ What? ”
“Clancy?” Delilah implored. I raised one hand in a gesture of submission and used the other to tug Lena downstairs to the crypt. I couldn’t go another moment without telling her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, once we were alone.
I hesitated for a moment, suddenly not sure how she’d take this. “I been to see someone.”
“Who?”
“A techno-doctor . . . Dr. Evan Simon.”
Just for a moment there was this expression on her face, like a close friend she’d fallen out with a long time ago had walked into the room. “Why?”
“You know why.”
“Clancy! I’m never going to get my sight back—”
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean?”
I told her the whole story, all the places I went, the way Dr. Simon’s name kept cropping up, and finally, about barging into his office, and most important of all, that he thought there might be a chance of restoring her sight. “But first he has to see you—do some tests.”
It was like all the rigidity went out of her body. She gave this kind of little whimper as if the subject was just too painful, and slowly slumped down the wall to the floor.
“I did it for you!” I told her, not understanding her reaction. “I don’t care if you’re blind—well, I do, course, but . . . on your behalf. I want you to be happy.”
“Oh, Clancy,” she sighed. “I am happy. With you—”
“You were happy. On the Island.”
“Yeah. What does that say about me?” she replied. “Everyone else’s life was hell.” Again there was silence. She reached out, took my hand and tugged me down next to her.
“You gotta give it a try,” I said. “You got to.”
“What about money?” she asked.
“He’s doing some research. He
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