Read Online Shattered by Eric Walters - Free Book Online Page B

in the army before is what I heard.”
    That would explain the way he walked, the way he held himself—the way he knocked that man down and wielded that iron bar.
    â€œSo he was a sergeant?”
    â€œMight have been,” Mac said with a shrug. “He gets called Sarge the way somebody who used to drive a taxi might be called Cabby. Everybody here has a nickname and a story,” Mac said.
    â€œAnd what’s his story?” I asked.
    â€œWhat I know I’ll tell you sometime.” Mac paused.
    â€œThat is, if you tell me the rest of the story about you and him meeting. I get the feeling that there’s more there.”
    I nodded my head. “It’s a deal.”

Six
    I REMOVED THE STOPPER from the sink and the water started to swirl away. I pulled off the bright yellow gloves that Mac had made me wear. He’d said that if I was going to be here on a regular basis he didn’t want me filing a workman’s compensation complaint about having dishpan hands.
    â€œYou all finished in here?” Mac yelled out.
    â€œPretty well. You?” He’d been working out front sweeping and wiping the tables and getting things ready for tomorrow’s meal.
    â€œAll done. So you got a ride home?” he asked.
    â€œI’ll call to arrange it.” I paused. “You were going to tell me about that man … Sarge.”
    â€œNot tonight.”
    â€œWhy not?” I asked.
    â€œNot enough time.”
    â€œI could tell them to pick me up later.”
    â€œNot your time, mine. I’ve got to get going.”
    â€œYou got a big date?” I asked.
    â€œI should be so lucky. I’m heading out onto the streets to do my rounds.”
    â€œWhat exactly do you do out there?” I asked.
    â€œHard to explain, really.” He hesitated. “But I could showyou some time … if you were interested in coming along.”
    â€œSure, that would be good,” I answered. I was interested, but also more than a little uneasy. Going out there would be a little like riding a roller coaster or watching a scary movie—neither of which I liked doing.
    â€œYou know, it would give you hours on your community service.”
    Mac knew which buttons to push.
    â€œI could come tonight,” I said. The words had jumped out before I’d thought them through.
    â€œIt’ll be almost midnight before I’m through,” he warned.
    â€œIt’s a Friday night. I don’t have to be in until later than that.”
    â€œWhat about your ride?” Mac asked.
    â€œI’ll tell them to come and get me later. I’d like to come … you know, it would be some more hours. Quicker I do them the sooner I’m done.”
    He didn’t answer right away. I didn’t know if I should be happy or disappointed no matter what answer he gave.
    â€œYou make the call, just to make sure, and you can come with me. You know where the phone is.”
    â€œYeah.” I wandered out of the main part of the kitchen and into the little alcove that Mac had made into his home. It held his bed and a small TV and a few personal items sitting on top of his dresser. Unbelievably, this was his house and it wasn’t nearly as big as our pool cabana. What would my parents think if they saw this? There was no worry there. They’d never see it. They’d never know and wouldn’t care to know.
    I picked up the phone—old, black, with a dial—like anantique. I dialed the number. It rang and rang and—
    â€œGood evening, Blackburn residence.”
    â€œHi, Berta, it’s me.”
    â€œHello, Eon .”
    That’s how she always said my name—it wasn’t Ian, it was Eon . I liked the way she said it.
    â€œCan I speak to my mother or father?” I asked. “They are both still out, Eon.”
    â€œOut? My mother knew I was going to be calling about now to get a ride home.”
    â€œShe asked me to come and get you