Read Online The Treasure of Maria Mamoun by Michelle Chalfoun - Free Book Online

shirt.”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with my shirt?” She glanced down.
    â€œMr. Ironwall wants to meet you.” Celeste rubbed at some imagined stain.
    â€œOkay,” Maria said.
    â€œLook at his face when you talk to him, not at the equipment.”
    â€œMama, I know how to behave.”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll be fine,” Celeste said, as if she wasn’t sure at all.
    They knocked and the night nurse opened the door.
    â€œWell, come on in,” Joanne said, tugging Maria’s sleeve. “He’s not coming to you.”
    Maria stepped into the room and faced the bed.
    Mr. Ironwall’s skeletal hands trembled on the bedclothes, and his skin looked transparent. Wormy blue veins showed in his forehead and between his knuckles, and broken red capillaries laced his cheeks. Joanne hovered around straightening out blankets and pillows. On the nightstand was a newspaper, reading glasses, and a tumbler of water. There were no other personal items in the room. It was strangely like a hospital room in that regard, though it was here, in his home.
    â€œCome closer,” the old man said in a papery voice.
    Maria didn’t realize he was talking to her until her mother gave her a little push.
    â€œLet Brutus off his leash.”
    Maria released the dog and held the leash uncertainly. Joanne took it from her and hung it on a hook beside the door. Brutus trotted, wagging, to the bed and gazed lovingly up at his master. Mr. Ironwall patted the coverlet and said, “Up-up.”
    Brutus leaped onto the bed, muddy paws and all. Maria heard her mother inhale sharply.
    Mr. Ironwall seemed not to notice the dirt, or maybe he didn’t care. He directed his gaze at Maria.
    â€œCome here,” he commanded. “So I can see your face properly.”
    Maria bent over the bed. The old man took her chin in his dry, knobby hands and peered at her face until she grew uncomfortable with the silence and scrutiny.
    â€œCheekbones like Hedy Lamarr.” He finally released her chin. “Under that mop of hair and those glasses.” He sank back into his pillows with closed eyes. After a few deep sighs, he seemed to have fallen asleep.
    Maria wondered if she should leave. She looked around for her mother, who was pretending to resupply a tray with gauze pads and cotton balls.
    â€œShould I go?” Maria whispered to Celeste.
    Mr. Ironwall held up his hand. “There’s one more thing. You have the run of the place, obviously, but please remember it is a very old place, and it’s crumbling down about our ears. Doors that are shut must stay shut, for our safety.” He looked at Maria with surprisingly clear eyes.
    Maria held her face as steady as she could. She had the creepy feeling that he somehow knew about her visit to his movie room. Maybe Hattie had told him. She’d have to be more careful. She didn’t really know Frank and Hattie well, and after all, they owed their jobs to Mr. Ironwall. Of course they’d be more loyal to him than to her. She’d have to keep her secrets close.

 
    11
    B ICYCLES AND S AILS
    In the hall outside Mr. Ironwall’s room, Celeste reminded Maria that she’d promised to have lunch with Hattie. “She’s been cooking all morning. If you don’t show up, she’ll be very disappointed.”
    For lunch, Hattie laid a plate of fried chicken, beans, and fried potatoes in front of Maria. “Your mother tells me clam chowder ‘isn’t normal’ for you, so I tried to make something you’d be familiar with.” She put a basket of biscuits and a small dish of butter beside the plate.
    Maria blushed. “I love fried chicken and potatoes and beans. I used to eat this same thing back home. Colony Fried Chicken was two blocks from our apartment. But actually, I really liked your clam chowder. I ate it all. You’re a really good cook. And I could eat this chicken every day, except my mom says