Mr. Lucy took everyone into the living room. Sandy, Gary, and Sheila sat on the old soft cushioned couch. The springs in the seat of it were weak. The three of them sunk so low they looked submerged in it. Johnny sat in the easy chair with the big arms that was just to the right of the couch. The material on it was worn and torn in spots, but it was still very comfortable. Mr. Lucy pulled the hard wood rocker forward so he’d be closer to them all. The only light in the room came from a small lamp behind him and a large lamp with a heavy glass shade to the left of the couch.
Because Mr. Lucy was backlit, his face was draped in darkness. The light from the large lamp lay a sheet of yellowish illumination over the heads and torsos of everyone on the couch, but Johnny remained in almost as much shadow as did Mr. Lucy. There was an old phonograph beside the small bookcase on the right. All of them had seen it, but no one had thought it still worked. Mr. Lucy had never used it before.
Tonight he had it playing low. They didn’t know whether he had found the records in the house or had brought them with him. They were the old-fashioned, breakable, 78’s. At the moment, he had on the beginning of Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in C Sharp Minor, although neither Johnny nor his friends knew what it was. He had the music very low, serving as background. Despite the age of the machine and the discs, the tone and quality were rather good.
“So,” Mr. Lucy began, “things are getting serious.”
“Yeah, and all because of that creep, Slattery,” Johnny said quickly. He looked at the others, but all of them, including Gary, seemed hypnotized by the music, by the shadows, and by Mr. Lucy’s quiet demeanor.
“Slattery?”
“Richard Slattery, the one who’s most likely going to be this year’s valedictorian. He’s been talking against you and us, and now he’s tutoring some of the kids who’ve dropped out of our classes.”
“He’s tutoring?”
“It’s part of an honor society program,” Sandy said. She had been in the honor society until the beginning of this year. Now she was a candidate for reentry, and she agreed with Johnny—it was all because of Mr. Lucy. “Each member is supposed to do some service to help others. Tutoring can be one thing. Only…”
“Only what?”
“Only Slattery is making it a personal thing,” Johnny said. “It’s his way of getting at you and at us. He’s taking on any kid who drops you.”
“I see. Why?”
“He’s jealous of us,” Gary said. He folded his arms across his chest and sat back. The strands of his long hair lay comfortably around his shoulders.
“But it gets worse,” Johnny said. “Tell him, Sheila.”
“I overheard him say that he doesn’t believe Gary and Johnny had the problem with Mr. Zola.”
“So it is serious,” Mr. Lucy said. He was quiet for a long moment. No one else spoke. The music seemed to get louder on its own. “What kind of a boy is this Slattery?” he asked, leaning forward until he was almost within lamp’s illumination.
“He’s perfect,” Sheila said quickly, and then looked at the others. “I mean, everyone thinks he’s perfect.” She bit down on her lower lip as if to keep her mouth shut.
“What she means is he’s a teacher’s pet. He’s got great grades, he’s never in trouble, he’s been a class officer, and now he’s president of the student government,” Gary said bitterly.
“He was starting center on the soccer team,” Sandy added.
“An all-around boy,” Mr. Lucy said, a wry smile forming on his face. Johnny heard an apparent note of admiration turn into something bitter.
Johnny leaned forward, mimicking Mr. Lucy’s posture. He clenched his hands into fists, thickening the muscles in his forearms. His gaze was intense, his blue eyes darkening. He understood that for Mr. Lucy, Richard Slattery represented something hateful, a true target.
“He’s going to keep on making trouble for us,” Johnny said. He didn’t realize it, but he was whispering now. The others leaned in to hear him. Mr. Lucy sat back and nodded, but it was imperceptible to all but Johnny. “We’ve got to stop him.”
“We’ve got to be careful,” Mr. Lucy said. “Never let your enemy think that he has any power over you. Negotiations are only effective when your opponent’s confidence has been eroded somewhat.”
“Negotiations?” Johnny didn’t like the sound of the word. It connoted too much reasonableness, too much calmness. He didn’t care for the restraint. Perhaps Mr. Lucy didn’t realize just how serious this was and just how much damage a kid like Slattery was capable of doing.
“He’s got a lotta friends,” Johnny said. “And the teachers listen to him. Parents like him, too; they like their kids hanging around him.”
“I know. I know what he’s like. I’ve known him all my life.”
“All your life?” Gary grimaced.
“The type,” Mr. Lucy explained. “I’ve known the type.”
“He’s dangerous,” Johnny said. “We can’t play around with him.” He pounded his own thigh emphatically.
“I understand, Johnny, but remember control; at all times, we must all have self-control. It’s only when you lose it that you make mistakes.”
“Mr. Lucy’s right,” Gary said quickly.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” Johnny snapped. His eyes widened and the blue became fiery bright again.
“Easy. We are going to need each other more than ever the next few days,” Mr. Lucy said. “What’s his family like?”
“His father teaches at the community college,” Johnny said with more restraint, even though he eyed Gary. “Math.”
“And his mother teaches in the elementary school,” Sheila said. She looked to Johnny to see if he minded her speaking.
“He has a younger brother,” Gary added, “in the seventh grade. He’s going to have the same personality. I can tell.”
“Both parents are teachers,” Mr. Lucy said almost inaudibly. Johnny thought he was saying it more to himself. “As you have seen, teachers can be very defensive. Maybe they’re setting him against me.”
“His mother must’ve known Zola,” Johnny offered.
“Hmm.” Mr. Lucy nodded toward him. They were all silent again. Then the record ended and Mr. Lucy got up to turn it over. Everyone watched him patiently. “Doesn’t he like any of you?” Mr. Lucy asked after he finished with the record.
“He likes Sandy,” Sheila said, a note of jealousy evident.
“Really?”
“He asked me to the prom last year,” Sandy said. She ran her hand down the back of her hair. “But I pretended I had a date.”
“She ended up not going at all,” Sheila said. She sounded happy about it. Johnny was getting annoyed with the way she added her little tidbits of information, but Mr. Lucy didn’t seem to mind, so Johnny said nothing.
“And what about this year?” Mr. Lucy asked.
“He still bugs me from time to time. Until recently, that is. Maybe he’s given up or maybe he can’t stand me hanging around with these guys,” she said teasingly. Johnny didn’t smile.
“Well then,” Mr. Lucy said, “we have our negotiator.”
“What’dya mean?” Johnny asked.
“Sandy’s the one to talk to him.”
“I think it would be better if you talked to him.”
“Ordinarily I might, Johnny, but I don’t think it would be diplomatic at this time. He’s apparently dead set against me, for one reason or another.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Sandy said, “but what do I say?”
“For one thing, I’d like you to find out why he’s so antagonistic toward me and the others?”
“Make him see how much good Mr. Lucy has done,” Sheila said. Mr. Lucy smiled, but Johnny thought he was smiling the way he would if he had to humor someone.
“Find out as much as you can.”
“It might just be a waste of time,” Johnny said.
“It’s never a waste of time to learn all that you can about your enemy, Johnny.”
Johnny stiffened and looked at the others to see if they thought he was being reprimanded.
“Yeah, I know,” Johnny said. “I just meant that we’ll never change Slattery’s mind about you and us.”
“That’s probably true.” He concentrated on Sandy again. “See him tomorrow, as soon as you can. Set something up so you can be alone when you talk to him.”
“That won’t be hard for her to do,” Sheila said. She practically sang it, her head tilted to one side.
“Will you shut up,” Johnny said. “This is serious,” he added, trying to imitate Mr. Lucy’s tone of voice.
“I know it’s serious.” She bit her lower lip again.
“All right.” Mr. Lucy moved forward so he was between Johnny and Sheila. “Relax. We’ll work it all out, I’m sure.”
Johnny stood up first and then the others did.
“We’re going to have some more contributions for the insurance account, Mr. Lucy,” he said, eyeing Gary.
“That’s right.” Gary said.
“We know your income has been reduced because of people like Slattery,” he added quickly. He wanted Mr. Lucy to believe the rest was entirely his idea. “So we decided you had better use it as you need.”
“Well, thank you everybody,” Mr. Lucy said. “That’s very kind of you all.”
“We don’t want anything to happen to you, Mr. Lucy,” Sheila said. Johnny was embarrassed by the little girl tone.
“Let’s go,” he said, and moved toward the front door. He opened it quickly and the others began to exit. Mr. Lucy put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder before he followed them out.
“Take it slow, buddy,” he said, almost in a whisper. “Don’t let events dictate to you. Remember.”
Johnny felt like embracing him for singling him out this way. He thought, this is the greatest friend I’ve ever had and I’ll ever have.
“I won’t,” he said. Mr. Lucy winked, and Johnny stepped out to join the others in the darkness.
The walk back was animated. Everyone wanted to talk at once. Johnny had to continually remind them to keep their voices down.
“We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves,” he said. “Look,” he said when they reached Main Street. “Let’s just give Sandy a chance to do what Mr. Lucy asked and forget about it all until then. Ignore the creeps as much as possible tomorrow. Don’t let anyone draw you into any arguments.”
“Right,” Gary said.
“I’ve got two tests to study for,” Sheila said. “I’ll just think about that.”
They parted to go their separate ways as usual, but Johnny cut around through the alley between Miller’s Department Store and Kayfield’s Bar and Grill to cut off Sandy before she reached her street. She didn’t seem surprised to see him emerge from between two large maples.
“I’ve got to talk to you privately,” he said.
“I had a feeling you would.” Her eyes danced with glee.
“Really?”
“Just a feeling. What is it?” She pressed closer to him.
“I got an idea for tomorrow. I didn’t want the others in on it because they’d want to be involved and too many could spoil it.”
“What?” Her face brightened with curiosity, the little dimple in her cheek flickering. For a moment Johnny lost track of what he wanted to say. Her skin looked so soft.
“I don’t trust that creep with you,” he said. Sandy smiled. For a while now, she had been sensing a growing intensity in their relationship. The four of them had become such a clump, she thought, it was impossible for the two of them to be alone. But often, she would catch Johnny staring at her and the looks between them had become more suggestive.
“I can handle him,” she said, and continued walking home.
“I don’t doubt it, but why take chances?” He wanted to take her hand.
“So what do you suggest?”
“Where’d you plan on…on seeing him alone?”
“I thought I’d talk him into walking me home. Paula’s going to Paramus to spend my father’s money. No one will be home.” She paused and turned to him. “You wanna listen in, is that it?”
“Yeah.”
“All right. I’ve got an idea. We keep a house key under the welcome mat. Just go directly there and let yourself in. I’ll follow with him. Go up to my room and hide in my closet.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh. I’ll take him up to the room and you’ll hear and see everything through the door. Only, don’t make any noise or you’ll really screw it all up.”
“I won’t. I’ll be like dead. Unless you need me.”
“If I need you, I’ll let you know.”
“Great,” he said. They both stopped and she turned to him. “You’ll hang around awhile after he leaves, OK?”
“Sure.”
“It’s been great, being close like this,” she said. Her face was only inches from his. He could smell the scent of her hair. “I’m glad Mr. Lucy has brought us together,” she added, and she kissed him. He was only annoyed that he didn’t kiss her first. He didn’t want her to think that he was too timid, so as she started to pull back, he embraced her and pressed his lips so hard against hers, she could feel his teeth behind them. “Here’s to afternoon delight,” she added, and started down the street to her house. He watched her walk until she reached the front door and disappeared within.
He couldn’t remember feeling so alive, so excited, and so powerful. He felt as though he could walk through buildings. How much his life had changed since he met Mr. Lucy. How wonderful everything was now. And to think there were people out there who wanted to stop it all from happening.
It filled him with a rage that matched his emotional high in its intensity. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow and the days that followed because he believed that in the end they would find a way to crush the jealous and vicious people like Richard Slattery. Mr. Lucy and his kids, he thought, nothing could stop us.
The music of a dozen different television adventure shows followed him home. And when he got there, he went to sleep dreaming of Mr. Lucy, his arm around him, his voice soft and soothing, as the two of them walked off the screen, leaving thousands of young people his age dreaming of having such a relationship with so great a man.
Gary was a little suspicious at the end of the day when Johnny made excuses to get home early. Gary’s plan was to hide well and to wait for Slattery to leave Sandy’s house. Then they would go to her to see how she made out.
“We’re all meeting back at Mr. Lucy’s,” Johnny told him. “We’ll discuss it there.”
Johnny made as though he had things to do and left him. He hurried through the village to Sandy’s house, found the key where she said it would be, and let himself in. He had been in her house a few times before, and each time he had been taken by the femininity of it. There was something about the scents, the way the furniture was arranged, the daintiness of the knickknacks, the colors of the wallpaper and the paint…all of it had the feel of a woman’s influence.
Johnny never said it, but he admired Sandy’s stepmother. He thought she was a very attractive woman. She was always very friendly toward him, and even though he knew it might be his imagination, she seemed flirtatious at times. Of course, he enjoyed it, but he would never let Sandy know.
He moved cautiously through the empty house, feeling like a Peeping Tom. He sensed that if a woman found out that someone unknown to her had been in her house, moving through her personal space, it would be as though she had been caught naked. He especially experienced this feeling when he entered Sandy’s room, even though she knew he’d be there.
Her room was dainty and soft. There were stuffed animals of all sizes and kinds displayed everywhere—on shelves, on the bed by the pillows, on the floor against the wall, and on the dressers and vanity table. The curtains over her windows were so sheer they looked like shaped smoke. He thought if he moved too roughly or too quickly, he would shatter something. Heavy footsteps might jar the little glass figures on the entertainment center shelves or shake the rock posters loose and send then floating over the bed and furniture.
He inhaled what he had come to know as Sandy’s scent—her cologne and shampoo. She had a definite presence in this room; there was something of her in it at all times. He saw a picture of her on the night table. She was probably only ten or eleven years old at the time, but her budding good looks were clearly visible. In another picture, taken a year or so later, she was standing in the front of the house with her real mother, whom he thought was a pretty good looker herself.
He went to the walk-in closet and opened the folding doors. He didn’t know whether it was unnatural or not, but confronting her clothing with her not present once again made him feel as though he were doing something erotic. Moving in and close to the garments, he couldn’t help but think of her body. It was as though just touching the bodice of a dress was the same as touching her breasts.
When he heard voices below, he closed the folding doors behind him and squatted. He could see through the ribbed doors. After a few moments, Sandy entered with Slattery beside her. Johnny hated everything about him, especially the neat and formal way he dressed for school. Who else but Slattery wore a pressed pair of dress pants, a white shirt, and a tie every day? His dark brown hair was always short and prim like a cadet’s. He even walked with a military posture and looked down his nose at the rest of them as though he was an officer and they were all privates. There was a nasality to his voice that suggested arrogance. It annoyed Johnny just to have Slattery in his presence.
Sandy went right to her bed and flopped on her side. She rested her head against her propped hand and laughed, obviously about something she had said before they had entered her room. Johnny had the feeling she had been teasing him all the way back to her house.
“Jesus,” Slattery said, “what are you, in the stuffed animal business?”
“Just gifts and things. Don’t you collect anything?”
“Old coins. There’s a value to that,” he said, but not sarcastically.
Johnny never liked the tone of Richard Slattery’s voice. He always sounded too much like an adult. He resented his note of self-confidence. He didn’t think anyone was supposed to be so sure of himself at such a young age. It was a tone of voice that belonged with a man like Mr. Lucy, not with a kid like Richard Slattery.
“So,” Sandy said, patting the place on the bed before her, “why do you resent Gary, Johnny, and Sheila so much?”
“I don’t see how you can be friends with such zeros,” he said, lying down on his side, too.
“They’re doin’ pretty well for zeros.”
“Erratic. There’s no stability to them. Besides, they’re not doing it on their own. It’s like cheating.”
“You mean using the tutor?”
“Of course. You know what I think, and you don’t have to tell me if I’m right if you don’t want, but I think this tutor has files on all the tests. He’ll get their averages up somewhat, but he won’t get them an education. You know what I mean?”
“I think so.”
“Mr. Zola felt the same way.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. We talked about it right before…right before he got framed.”
“Oh, come on. You don’t really believe he got framed, do you?”
“I know they’re your friends.”
“We hang out together because we all use the tutor, but I’m not going to really call them my friends. I thought you understood that.”
“I understand,” he said, but still sounded somewhat suspicious.
Sandy laughed and turned over on her back. Johnny could see Slattery leer at her and at the way her breasts lifted before him. She started to play with the front of his hair.
“There’s certainly nothing romantic between me and Gary Rosen or Johnny Masterson,” she said.
“I was hoping that wasn’t so.”
“Give me some credit, will you.”
“You guys seemed so close.”
“Things aren’t always what they seem,” she said. She ran her fingers down the side of his face and touched his neck.
“You’re about the prettiest girl in school,” he said. “It would have been a real waste if you were…”
“Forget them for a while, will ya. Anyway, they’re queers, right?”
“No they’re not,” he said, the anger evident.
“How do you know for sure?”
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t say anything to them.”
“I don’t talk to them about things like this.”
He looked at her for a long moment. She could see he was deciding on something so she turned into him and lifted her lips toward his. Johnny was surprised at how calculating she could be. He was also very jealous of Slattery’s closeness. The kiss was quick, but too sensuous, he thought. Did she have to be so convincing?
“We’ve got to get to know each other a little better,” she said. “You’ve got to be my hero and rescue me from the zeros.” She laughed teasingly. He smiled and leaned over her when she went back to resting her head against the pillow. “So how do you know they’re not homos?”
“Mr. Zola told me.”
“What?”
“That’s right,” he said. “I went to his apartment the next day. He called me on the phone. When I got there, he told me what happened. So I know the truth. He trusted me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.” He was quiet for a moment, his determination evident. “So you’re going to stop seeing that tutor?”
“Oh yeah. The only reason I went was because of this deal I had with my father. It’s off now, so I’ll be quitting soon.”
“Good. I hate to see you influenced by those zeros.”
“How do I know you’re such a good influence, Richie?” she asked. She pushed her finger into his chest and he laughed. Then he leaned over to kiss her. Johnny saw that she let him run his hand over her breast. He started to kiss her neck and bring his leg over hers.
“Wait,” she said, and sat up quickly.
“What is it?”
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I was supposed to meet my stepmother at Dede’s Boutique at three-thirty. She’s got an outfit picked out for me.”
“So, tell her you forgot.”
“I did forget, I’d better get my ass over there.”
“Just call her.”
“You don’t understand. My father thinks I’m deliberately avoiding doing things with her. This won’t help. Come on,” she said, “I’ve got to rush over.”
Disappointed, Slattery rose off the bed to follow her out of the room. Johnny sat back in the closet and shook his head. She was great, he thought. What a manipulator. He heard them go down the stairs and out the front door, Slattery protesting all the way.
The house was quiet again. He waited a few more moments, just to be sure, and then stepped out of the closet. He wondered how long it would take her to get rid of him and come back. However long it took, he would wait. He went to her bed and lay down where she had been, putting his head against her pillow. He thought about Slattery touching her and he felt a mixture of anger and envy.
Then he thought about the things Sandy had gotten him to admit. He couldn’t wait to bring the information back to Mr. Lucy. He made up his mind right then and there that he would go before the others and talk to Mr. Lucy alone. No matter what they thought, the others didn’t have the same relationship. Mr. Lucy might not want to say certain things in front of them. He’d be happy I came by myself first, Johnny thought. He’d even expect it.
It was a good twenty minutes before Sandy returned.
“He nearly followed me to the boutique,” she explained. “Finally, I had to stop walking and promise to meet him again tomorrow after school. He doesn’t give up easily, does he?”
“That’s what worries me,” he said. She saw the rage in his face. He was flushed and that now familiar fire brightened his blue eyes.
“You heard it all?”
“And saw it all,” he said. He was still on her bed, sitting up against the pillow. She smiled and shrugged.
“You think he was telling the truth about Zola?”
“I don’t have any doubts,” Johnny said. He looked thoughtful.
“What are we gonna do?”
“Mr. Lucy will decide that.” He paused and they looked at each other for a long moment. She came to the bed slowly and sat down beside him. “I didn’t like you kissing that creep.”
“I didn’t like it either. I just imagined I was kissing you,” she said, seeing he was skeptical.
“Really?” She nodded. He leaned forward and took her by the shoulders gently. It was a long kiss but once again, she surprised him with her aggressiveness. She pushed her tongue into his mouth before he could even think of pushing his into hers.
“I bet you’ve had a few boyfriends,” he said. He couldn’t help the critical note. She just looked at him for a moment and then looked down.
“My parents were always very open about sex,” she said. He thought she sounded sad about it. “They never locked doors. My mother believed in awareness. Everyone walked around nude in front of everyone else. I don’t think I was more than five years old when my mother explained to me how babies are born. To tell you the truth, I think she got some kind of a kick doing it.”
Johnny listened in awe. His father had never even had a man-to-man discussion with him about sex. It was expected he would learn all about it in sex education, and when it came to his parents being open about their own relations, they acted as though they were both still virgins. It occurred to him that the way Sandy was brought up and the way he was brought up were so different that it was like they were from different countries.
“Is Paula like that, too?”
“Oh yeah. She’s always talking to me about sex. I think my father assigned her the responsibility to be sure I don’t get pregnant before I’m supposed to.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Am I?” She got up and went to the night table to open the drawer. “See this,” she said, holding up the small box. “Birth control pills. Paula got me the prescription.”
“You take them?”
“Regularly. I’m not stupid.” She smiled and he just stared at her. “So you don’t have to worry either,” she said. She put the box back in the drawer and began to unbutton her blouse.
“You sure no one’s coming home now?” he said, looking at the partially open door.
“What if they do? They understand,” she said, and she laughed.
There was no question in his mind that he wanted her. She was pretty and desirable and he had fantasized about her often. He had grown especially excited watching her with Slattery, but her matter-of-fact or “enlightened” attitude about it was something of a turn-off. There were a few steps to this moment missing.
He didn’t know how to express it or even if it were important to do so, but he felt that she was using sex to get back at her parents, probably mostly her father, in some way. He wondered how many boys she had done this with for the same reason. He felt as though he were being used, as though it really didn’t matter if it were he or not.
She had her blouse off. That portion of her bosom that bulged above her bra was pink, flushed from her excitement. He didn’t move; he didn’t change expression. She brought her hands behind her back to unfasten the bra and then hesitated.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothin’.”
“So why don’t you get undressed?” He didn’t say anything. She brought her hands to her sides. “You didn’t hesitate when you and Gary pulled that bit on your sister and Mary Warren, did you?”
“I’m not hesitating.”
“So?”
“I don’t know. I feel almost as if we’re not concentrating on the plan, or something,” he said. “You know, like we came here to do one thing for Mr. Lucy and we’re doin’ another.”
“Huh?” She looked at him for a moment. “Listen,” she said, “Mr. Lucy is no prude. He knows about these things. He expects us to do it.”
“How do you know that?” She didn’t say anything for a moment. “You talked about it with him?”
“Of course.”
“But how could you? I mean…”
“He’s very understanding. He wanted to know about my past and my family life, as I told him things. You know what he said?” Johnny shook his head, but he was anxious to hear. “He said people overestimate sex. He said sex is just a trick of nature to bring people together. He said if we just treat it as something natural, we wouldn’t have all this guilt.” She smiled and added, “He said too many people worship the orgasm.”
“He said all that?”
“Uh huh. So don’t feel so guilty.”
“I never talked to him about sex,” Johnny said. “Except that stuff involving my sister.”
“So it worked out, didn’t it? She doesn’t bother you.”
“No, she wouldn’t dare.”
“Good. Now you can talk to Mr. Lucy about your own problems. But first,” she said, reaching back and unfastening the bra, “you’d better have something to talk about.” She slipped the garment down her arms and dropped it on the floor. He stared with obvious appreciation, but he didn’t say anything.
He got off the bed quickly and began taking off his clothes. She unbuckled her jeans and slipped them and her panties off. Then she pulled back the blanket and got into the bed.
When he slipped in beside her and they embraced, he thought about what she had said: Mr. Lucy expected them to do it. She wouldn’t say it if he didn’t, he thought. She wouldn’t lie when it came to Mr. Lucy.
Just the fact that Mr. Lucy expected it made it more important to him. He pressed to be more aggressive than she was; he had to live up to Mr. Lucy’s expectations for him. Afterward he wouldn’t have to say anything. Mr. Lucy would know. He would look at them and he would know.
Johnny understood that there was no part of their lives in which their tutor didn’t play a role, but he didn’t resent it; he welcomed it. Mr Lucy was a father, a brother, and a friend. They would carry his stamp of approval openly.
As Johnny made love to Sandy, he looked over at the chair in the corner near the bed and imagined Mr. Lucy sitting there and smiling.
“These are my kids,” he would say. “They’re good at anything they do.”