Page 63 of Boy Blue
“Blue, ma’am,” I said, not dismissing my desire to sit up straight.
“Then where’s Star?” she asked, seeming to know all our stories. Jack must have told her, of course. “He’s the littlest, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he be with you?”
“He was still on the train as it left town,” Jack said. Then Jack told the rest of the story. How I’d fallen off. Hit my head. Was staying with Wolfe. How we didn’t know where Star was. How we wanted to go look for him.
“Wolfe,” Mabel said, instead of commenting on any of this. “Come help me. Make tea while I cut this pie.”
I needed to be on my best company manners as I waited for Wolfe to make tea. Morgan and I looked at each other across the rug, me on the couch, sitting up, my hands in my lap, a little warm in my parka, he on an armchair that had a flowered pattern and looked too fancy to sit in. He thumped his cane on the carpet, lightly, every so often, as if marking time.
Jack was on the couch next to me, messing with the dog, having a little conversation with it in a bright, chirpy voice. Then, after a glance into the kitchen, he scooped the dog up andpresented it to me, brown and white, sharp claws digging into Jack’s thighs.
“This is Mister Rocket,” he said. “Do you want to pet him?”
“Will he bite?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Jack said, laughter in his eyes. “Go on. He loves pets.”
I did as I was told, stroking the dog’s neck, feeling its silky fur, those bright brown eyes watching me carefully. Then, all at once, the dog’s ears went back softly, just a twitch, as I stroked between them and he panted happily at me.
“You’re in the club,” Jack announced, taking the dog back onto his own lap. “He likes you.”
I was glad to hear it, but I was more glad to get a plate with a giant slice of pecan pie and a flowered cup of milky tea. Everyone was served by Wolfe and Mabel, and finally, as Wolfe pulled two kitchen chairs into the living room, they sat down as well.
“So,” Mabel said, rather like a teacher who had just taken roll and wanted to get on with the lesson. “You are missing Star, the youngest among you. Of course, these two young men, being his friends, would like to go find him, but how will you do that?” She took a sip of her tea, and I imagined she was very happy to have an audience for her thoughts, spoken out loud. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, no, not at all.”
“Thank you for speaking sense, Mabel,” Morgan announced, lifting his cane to plant it between his feet.
“You need to stay where he can findyou,” Mabel said. “Hysham is the last place you were all together and is likely the place he will return to, when he can.”
“He might have gone to Santa Monica,” Jack said. The pie on his plate was already gone, and he was contentedly nursing his cup of tea.
“To be sure,” Mabel said. “You might send word there. Place ads in the paper or—Jack, is it chat rooms young people use now?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Jack. “Chat rooms and online marketplaces and so on.”
“Send word that way,” said Mabel with a nod. “Maybe someone should also go out there and poke around, but that’s the only place you know he was headed to. Then there’s the rest of the country, but it’s too big to be searched on foot. Or by rail.” She got up and looked at Jack, her expression severe. “Jack, is that dog on your lap again?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Jack with a little laugh as he put Mister Rocket back on the floor.
“I agree, ma’am,” said Wolfe. He got to his feet, his parka back on his shoulders, and seemed a little warm in the cute house with the heat turned up for an older woman. “We’ll post online. Everywhere we can think of, in a way that Star would know the message is meant for him.”
“We can keep track in a spreadsheet.” Morgan tapped his cane between his feet and didn’t look up. “I’m good at spreadsheets.”
Jack looked at me, and I looked at him, at his grave expression and how it reflected the hard feelings in my chest.
For a good long while, the three of us had managed on our own. Decided where we went and what we’d do once we got there. We survived without any help from the outside world. Good and bad, our lives were different now. Now we were not on our own, but it felt better than freedom.
“I’d be willing to go to Santa Monica,” I said, though I hadn’t any idea how to pay for a trip like that. Everyone looked at me as though I’d grown two heads. Except for Mabel; she nodded and looked at her cup of tea.
“Maybe after the wedding you can all go,” she said. “Or before, since the wedding will be a simple one. But you’d have to plan around it.”
“When is it going to be?” I asked, looking at Jack, at the way his ears were turning pink. At the ring on his finger.
“Week after Thanksgiving,” Jack said, gazing at Morgan with a goofy wide grin. “Or before.”
“If all goes well,” Morgan said in a grumpy kind of way, though his mouth curved up in a small smile.
It was Wolfe I wanted to hear from, to chime in because what he had to say was the most important to me.
