time he explored the world through the books that the friars taught him to read. And although the friars and their Helpers gave plenty of reason for fear, they employed that fear against their young charges by enforcing the proposition that ignorance was deadly for their Delinquents and Orphans.
The unwavering focus came from the friars’ conviction that knowledge might actually make a difference in the lives of these children, who were otherwise guaranteed an existence as social throwaways. They could survive a childhood without ever being adopted, but the friars promised them daily that without education they could choose between growing up to be prostitutes, thieves, or thieving prostitutes. And then they could take their natural places among the other denizens of the Barbary Coast district, down by the shrouded waterfront.
So Shane made it a never-ending point to absorb all of the friars’ lessons and to score well enough on their tests so that they saved their worst torments for thicker heads. The way he looked at it, the constant access to books had saved his life in that place.
As for the more intimate arts of family existence, it was only over the past year in the Nightingale house that he ever witnessed and participated in the daily life of an actual family. The most awkward part at first, for a boy of eleven, was the unaccustomed closeness oftwo "sisters" who were so highly attractive to him. He came to hate his penis for being untrustworthy, and made it a habit around the house to always carry something he could swing around in front of himself if the need arose.
Amy's sense of music filled his heart from the day he arrived. Her voice expressed a light and feminine energy that seemed to just soar up from her, free of self-consciousness. By the time he had passed his first two weeks in the Nightingale house, Shane was convinced that he was lucky to be able to live so close to her, even if that was all he could ever do. He could never forget that there was to be nothing more; life slapped him flat to the ground every day. The worst of it was the simple fact that he was still only twelve, and a sixteen-year-old girl was older by a lifetime. Even if he had come up in the proper social class, she never would have welcomed his affection.
It was Carolyn, most of all, who had always seen him as nothing more than what he was: a house servant. But sometimes she let him hold her hand to steady her while she practiced standing on the tips of her toes. She was so light and graceful, as if her bones were hollow like a bird's. Delicate and full of quiet mischief, she dreamed of being a ballerina. Carolyn ignored parental objections to her dancing and spent about half of every day flying through the air. For one crazed instant Shane wondered how the killer knew that Carolyn was the dancer in the family. For a long time, Shane could hear the madman swinging her body, dashing her against the walls.
It was during those final weeks before the earthquake that Shane felt himself sinking into the family unit and beginning to perceive them in new ways. The constant combination of civilized discourse and household intimacy forced him to learn to work within a family relationship. The little routines of it came to feel good, reassuring.
Now his torment included a palpable sense of loss over this new way of being with others—and the guilt of having done nothing but lie in his hidden pantry bed, soaking his pants, unable to move orcry out while the family was systematically slaughtered. No matter how he reasoned his way through it, in the end, Shane knew that his present-day circumstances were the direct result of his inability to fight against the killer. What if he could have won, somehow, through sheer luck? Or what if his display of boldness and bravery could
have forced
God to grant him a miracle? It was clear that the stuttering kicked in because some part of himself wanted to stop in the middle of whatever else he might be
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