When the bus drops me off from school on Monday, Mom tells me we have visitors. She pushes my wheelchair into the kitchen, where Mr. and Mrs. Blake are drinking tea. Paula and Mom have known each other for years, but more to say hello in the street than as actual friends. I remember her coming to Mom a few times when Ryan was young and acting up, asking Mom for advice. I think there was a time when she even hoped Mom would foster him.
Since Ryan died, Mom has tried to be supportive, and Paula’s been here a few times. Graham—Mr. Blake—doesn’t usually come with her, though.
Paula says hi to me and smiles, but her grief is clear in the deep lines on her face and her drooping eyes. Graham shifts awkwardly and taps the rim of his mug with his finger. I can tell that I make him uncomfortable. I notice he’s kept his black outdoor jacket on, while Paula has taken off her coat.
He’s clearly hoping not to be here long.
“I know he was no angel,” Paula is saying to Mom, “but I was so hard on him—always nagging, criticizing, pushing him to change. The last thing I said to him was, ‘Get out and don’t come back!’ Can you believe it? That’s what I said!”
She bursts into tears.
Graham touches her shoulder and fidgets again.
Mom hands Paula a tissue.
“I know,” says Mom, “but you could never have known what would happen. You were trying to set boundaries. He knew you loved him. He knew that’s why you kept after him.”
“Do you really think so?” Paula sobs.
When we were young, Ryan used to stick his tongue out at me if he passed me in the street. Then when he got a little older, he called me “Spaz” or “Spazzie” or worse things. He even spat at me once.
I don’t miss Ryan, but obviously I feel horrible for Paula. Ryan was a loser, but he was still her son—and Graham’s.
I look at Graham. He’s like a block of stone. Paula sips her tea. “I can’t bear the thought that the monster who did it is walking around free. I might pass him in the street and never know.”
Dan’s face comes into my mind. Yes, you might, I think. He was here… He was here in this house, I want to tell Paula. A sound comes out of my mouth, a strained gurgle. Paula glances at me and quickly away again.
I wish I could tell them what he said. Just in case. I don’t know if Dan and Ryan even knew each other. They were very different. And Dan doesn’t seem like he’d be involved with drugs and gangs and stuff. Or maybe he’s just good at hiding it.
“We’d better be going,” Graham says gruffly.
Paula turns and gives him a bewildered look. But she pulls herself up from the chair, and Graham helps her put her coat on.
“At least the Crime Watch thing might help,” I hear Mom say as they go to the front door. “Let’s just hope someone calls in and the police get a lead.”
So Ryan’s murder is going to be on Crime Watch Daily! Maybe that will make everything clear. I hope Mom and Dad will let me watch it. I’ve never seen it, but I know about it—how they reconstruct crimes, and people watching can phone in if they know anything. Maybe there will be a clue that will tell me if Dan really did it—and if he did, then Sarah or Mom or Dad or someone else watching will have to realize it was him.