Read Online Long Drive Home by Will Allison - Free Book Online Page B

monster than I did at that moment, too shamed with guilt to even put a hand on her shoulder. I asked if she wanted to sit down. She went to the sofa. I got a box of tissues and set it on the coffee table in front of her. She had her face in her hands.
    “I’m Glen,” I said. “I saw the whole thing.”
    “I know who you are, Mr. Bauer,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Your neighbor told me. You thought they gave up on him too soon. You were the only one who spoke up.”
    She was looking at me as if I might be able to tell her something about her son’s death that no one else knew. I could no more meet her eyes than I could have gazed into the sun.
    “They said he was already dead.”
    She sighed. “And were they white? The medics?”
    “Yes.” I supposed, in her shoes, I might have asked the same question.
    “I just don’t see how they can quit before they even get him to the hospital.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
    She shook her head. “I should be apologizing to you. They told me he could have hit you instead of the tree. But you know what my first thought was? Not ‘Oh Lord, what if he’d hurt someone?’ It was ‘Why him ? Why not them instead?’” She closed her hand on the tissue and bit her lip. “I’m a Christian, Mr. Bauer.”
    I took a step toward her but couldn’t go any farther. Iasked if she wanted me to call someone, or give her a ride. She didn’t seem to hear me.
    “It was my car,” she said. “He wasn’t supposed to be driving it.”
    She was looking out the window. There were two police cruisers out front. Both officers, a man and a woman, were talking to Clarice. Tawana stood and smoothed her sweater. Then she walked out the door and met the female officer as she was coming up the steps. They seemed to know each other. The officer gave me a nod. Tawana opened the door and got into the police car by herself. Clarice was in her bathrobe again, watching from the porch. She didn’t come out to check on the tree until after they were gone.
    _______
    Maybe when you read this you’ll wonder why I didn’t just do the right thing and tell her the truth. Believe me, it’s not like the idea hadn’t crossed my mind. But having a clearer conscience wasn’t worth getting us sued and maybe going to jail. When I thought about what my confessing would do to you and your mom, that was all the reason I needed to keep quiet.
    And yet. The point here is to be completely honest. I have to admit that even without you, I’d probably still have found an excuse to keep covering up what I’d done. I wanted to do right, but the price was just too high.
    _______
    Liz had barely gotten into the car that night when Sara announced that Juwan’s mom had tried to chop down the tree.
    “With an axe, ” she said. “But Dad saved Sicky. He got her to come inside.”
    “Into our house?” Liz looked at me like I was crazy. I shook my head and explained what happened, and she calmed down once she realized Tawana hadn’t brought the axe inside.
    “At least she didn’t hurt herself,” she said.
    “The tree’s not hurt either,” Sara said. “Not too bad. Dad let me put some more gauze on even though the flowers are still there.”
    It wasn’t until later, when Liz and I were alone in the kitchen, that she asked if Tawana and I had talked about the accident. I told her what Tawana had said about me being the only one who’d spoken up for Juwan and how terrible that made me feel.
    “It wasn’t your fault, Glen. Having a guilty conscience isn’t the same as being guilty.”
    I had a pot roast going in the slow cooker, the first decent meal we’d had since the accident. I checked to see if the potatoes were done.
    “And if there’s ever a lawsuit,” she said, “maybe what you did today will count for something.”
    “I honestly don’t think she cares about that.”
    Liz held a plate while I served. “She will. That’s what people do. Your child gets killed in an