Read Online Thief by Mark Sullivan - Free Book Online Page B

your life as a scale, and the weight of what you’ve done is far out there on that beam, pinning your life down.”
    For several moments he stared off into space and then hung his head, tears welling in his eyes.
    â€œYou see it?” she asked.
    Robin nodded as tears dripped down his cheeks.
    â€œGood,” she said. “And now I want you to imagine yourself differently, acting differently, thinking differently, a young man with a purpose to his life, dedicated to the greater good. And I want you to believe that gradually, step by step, action by action, the weight on that beam will begin to shift and then come into balance, or better.”
    â€œI don’t know what I’d do to deserve that,” Robin choked. “Balance.”
    She took the boy’s left hand in hers, saying, “It doesn’t matter what you deserve at this moment. You just have to be willing to try to head down the right path. If you do, I promise you that God will show you the way.”
    *   *   *
    At one point during that long night, Monarch roused and saw Sister Rachel there sleeping in the chair by his bed. The sight of her keeping watch over him was enough to eliminate any anxiety on his part, and he’d fallen back into a deep, dreamless sleep.
    When he awoke again it was broad daylight, and he was surprised to see that Sister Rachel had left and Gloria Barnett had taken her place in the chair.
    â€œYou’re an early bird,” he said.
    â€œI just wanted to say Merry Christmas before I left,” Barnett said. “I promised my brother I’d make an appearance this year.”
    â€œHave fun,” Monarch said, feeling the cobwebs clear. “That crazy aunt of yours going to be there?”
    â€œI’ve been assured Aunt Lilly is banned from the time zone,” Barnett said.
    Monarch reached over and pressed the bed control to raise him more upright. He still felt weak, but also cleaner somehow, as if the poisons had drained during the night.
    â€œWhat exotic locale will I be calling after you leave your brother’s place?” he asked.
    â€œI’m thinking Fiji,” Barnett said.
    Barnett had a condo in Boston, but was rarely there; she preferred to spend her time off at luxury spas in lush tropical settings.
    â€œEnjoy,” he said when she got up.
    â€œAs much as one can in Mobile, Alabama.”
    â€œDrink heavily.”
    Barnett laughed as she moved toward the door, said, “That’s a thought.”
    When she’d gone, Monarch was left to the silence. He gingerly palpated the area around his wound, and was relieved to find that the pain had ebbed to a low throb. He was healing.
    Sister Rachel came in then and fussed around him, checking his vitals.
    â€œYou’re getting stronger,” she said. “And no sign of infection now.”
    â€œThat’s good.”
    â€œIt is good,” she said, and then put her hand on his arm. “I have a present for you.”
    â€œIsn’t that supposed to be tomorrow?”
    â€œI tried to have them wait until then, but they insisted.”
    â€œThey?”
    The missionary doctor lifted her head, called out, “You can come in now.”
    Monarch was surprised when fifteen of the orphans came trooping into his room, and formed a semicircle around the foot of his bed. He recognized two of the kids right off, Juan and Antonio, boys he’d brought to Sister Rachel nearly two years before. Both of them had grown several inches and put on twenty pounds. They grinned at him.
    â€œWhat is this?” he asked.
    â€œYour Christmas concert, Senor Robin,” Juan said.
    The orphans broke into “Feliz Navidad” and made Monarch beam with delight. Their version of “Silent Night” nearly broke his heart. And when they finished with “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” in Spanish he laughed so hard he thought he was going to bust a stitch.
    â€œYou like