Read Online The Western Light by Susan Swan - Free Book Online Page B

touched my face and against my will stupid tears rolled down my cheeks.
    â€œDo you understand me, Sal?” my grandmother said. “Mary is not to ride that bike again.”
    â€œIf that’s the way you want it.”
    â€œThat is the way I want it.” My grandmother handed me one of her perfumed hankies to dry my eyes. Then she and my aunt took my hands and together they helped me into the house for our Easter lunch of baked ham with pineapple rings and sweet potatoes.

11
    THE FOLLOWING SUNDAY, THE DOORBELL RANG WHILE WE SAT at the table reading. My aunt had her nose in
The Face of War
by Martha Gellhorn while Big Louie was deep into the latest James Bond novel,
From Russia with Love
. I was only a quarter of the way through
The Secret Garden
by Frances Hodgson Burnett. I was taking my time because I didn’t want my book to end. Morley was hiding behind the sports section of
The New York Times
. Morley and I always read at the dinner table and sometimes we didn’t put down our books when Sal brought in our food.
    The doorbell rang again. Morley didn’t look up from his paper. Big Louie swaggered off to the front hall. We heard the front door open and my grandmother say in a false polite tone, after a minute of mumbling, “It’s kind of you to have done this, Mr. Pilkie.” Little Louie and I stared wide-eyed at each other.
    â€œI made it in the workshop. Mary needs it, eh?” John Pilkie’s husky voice said. “Will you give my regards to Doc Bradford?”
    â€œYes, of course,” Big Louie answered. “By the way, I didn’t know that you’d been released from the hospital.”
    â€œOh, I’m still there. Jordie here is taking me to the Catholic mass tonight. The drunkard’s mass, eh? I guess I ruined my chances with the Anglicans.”
    My grandmother didn’t laugh. “Fine, then.” She shut the door loudly. I rushed to the living room window and watched him sashay down our sidewalk in his striped brown suit and fedora. Jordie Coverdale walked beside him, his hips bumping John’s. The two men were shackled together by a leash hanging from Jordie’s belt. What must that be like, I wondered, to be guarded so closely? Out by the sidewalk, Jordie untied his prisoner and the two men climbed into the hospital van. This time he didn’t wave. I didn’t, either, because I heard Little Louie behind me. “He scares the daylights out of me,” she whispered. “Does he scare you?” I nodded before Little Louie could suspect I thought otherwise.
    In the front hall, my grandmother bellowed for Morley. My father dragged himself out of his chair, and Little Louie and I followed him into the front hall, where my grandmother stood next to a small pine desk. When she saw us, she threw up her hands. “John Pilkie left this for Mouse. My granddaughter can’t accept a gift from a convict. He’ll have to take it back.”
    â€œIf you say so, Louisa.” Morley glanced at the desk, a flicker of interest in his eyes.
    Then from the kitchen Sal called Morley. “They want you at the hospital, Doc Bradford.”
    â€œGo ahead and eat. Don’t wait for me, girls,” Morley called as he walked out the door.
    While my aunt and Big Louie watched apprehensively, I read the note from John that had been scotch-taped to a box placed on the top of the desk. The words were written in curly, spiralling letters on blue-grey hospital notepaper.
Happy Easter, Mary, from your friend, John
. Inside the box, a large chocolate Easter egg sat on a nest of shredded purple fibers. I bit into the egg, smacking my lips over its creamy yellow filling. The faces of my aunt and grandmother softened.
    â€œWhy don’t you let her keep the desk, Mom?” my aunt asked. “What’s the harm in it?”
    â€œMy father accepts presents from his patients. So why can’t I? Mr. Pilkie was one of his