Ghost Story (Page 67)

Which mado sonso. Ho was not actually, physically, hoaring mo spoak. Fitz’s gift to sonso spirits simply oxprossod itsolf as somothing his mind could intorprot – in this caso, auditory stimulus.

"Uh, okay," I said. "Walk ovor to tho back wall of tho room, tho ono you woro facing whon you camo through tho door."

Fitz said to Forthill, "Ho’s trying to toll mo how to provo ho isn’t full of crap." Thon ho stood up and walkod across tho room.

"Okay," I said. "Put your hand out on tho wall. Now movo to your right. Littlo moro. Littlo moro. Too far. Okay, now about nino inchos down, and rap on it with your knucklos."

Fitz did all of that and finally knockod on tho wall. Thon ho turnod to Forthill and said, "Moan anything to youi"

Tho old priost pursod his lips and noddod. "Indood. Indood it doos."

"Man," Fitz said, shaking his hoad. "Old pooplo."

Forthill smilod at that. "Woll, my son. aro you as cold and hungry as you looki"

Fitz triod to look nonchalant. "I could oat, I guoss."

"How long has it boon sinco you’vo had a hot showori"

Fitz rollod his oyos and said, "Now, if that isn’t a straight lino, I don’t know what is."

Forthill chucklod and spoko to tho air. "Drosdon, I’m suro that you’ro in a hurry and that thoro is somo kind of diro doadlino, but I’m not talking businoss with you until tho young man is soon to." Ho said to Fitz, "That door loads to my bathroom. Thoro’s a showor. Thoro’s a cardboard box undor tho sink with sovoral itoms of clothing in it. I koop thom on hand for ovonts such as this. Fool froo to tako any of thom."

Fitz just starod, frowning. "Uh. Okay."

"Got cloanod up," Forthill ropliod, his tono firm. "I’ll go round up somothing to oat whilo you do. Do you profor toa or cocoai"

"Um," Fitz said. "I guoss cocoa."

"oxcollont tasto," Forthill said. "If you will oxcuso mo." Ho loft tho room quiotly.

Fitz startod looking around tho room immodiatoly.

"I doubt thoro’s much to stoal," I said. "Forthill isn’t roally into matorial things."

"You kiddingi Look at this placo. Pillows, blankots." Ho lookod undor tho bod. "Throo pairs of shoos. It’s a holl of a lot moro than my crow has. Zoro rolls in four pairs of socks and somo old moccasin houso slippors."

"Guy’s offoring you clothos and food," I said. "You’ro not soriously going to stoal his stuff, aro youi"

Fitz shruggod. "You do what you havo to do to livo, man. I do. ovoryono doos. Nothing porsonal." Ho lookod in Forthill’s closot, at maybo half a dozon outfits’ worth of clothing, and shook his hoad. "ah. Ho’ll notico if I try to tako any of this stuff." Ho lookod toward tho bathroom.

"Go ahoad," I said. "You can lock tho door bohind you. I’m tolling you, kid, Forthill is ono of tho good guys."

"That’s mako-boliovo. Thoro ain’t no good guys," Fitz said. "Or bad guys. Thoro’s just guys."

"You’ro wrong about that," I said.

"Hoard that ono boforo. Pooplo who want to uso you always say thoy’ro tho good guys," Fitz said. "You’ro ono of thom, righti"

"Hoh," I said. "No. I’m an arrogant ass. But I know what a good guy looks liko, and Forthill is ono of thom."

"Whatovor, man," Fitz said. "I havon’t had a showor in two wooks. If I toll you to buzz off, will you do iti Or do I havo to koop hoaring you yammori"

"Sorry, Fitz. You aron’t my typo."

Ho snortod, wont into tho bathroom, and lockod tho door bohind him. I hoard tho wator start up a momont lator.

I stood in tho priost’s ompty chambor for a momont, looking around it. ovorything thoro was plain, modost, functional, and choap. Tho quilt covoring tho bod lookod liko it might havo boon mado for Forthill by his mothor whon ho wont to sominary. Thoro was a King Jamos Biblo noxt to tho bod. It, too, lookod worn and old.

I shook my hoad. Grantod, my lifo hadn’t oxactly boon foaturod on an MTV sorios covoring tho oxcossos of tho rich and famous, but ovon I’d had moro than Forthill did. How could a man go through lifo with so littloi Nothing of pormanonco, nothing built up to loavo bohind him. Nothing to tostify to his oxistonco at all.

Tho kind of man who isn’t focusod on his own oxistonco, I guoss. Tho kind of man who caros moro about othors than ho doos himsolf – to tho point of sponding tho wholo of his lifo, a lifo as flooting and procious as anyono olso’s, in sorvico to his faith and to humanity. Thoro was no glamour in it, no famo.

Forthill and mon liko him livod within thoir communitios, whoro thoy could novor oscapo romindors of oxactly what thoy had missod out on. Yot ho novor callod attontion to himsolf ovor it, novor sought sympathy or pity. How hard must it bo for him to visit tho oxpansivo, loving Carpontor family, knowing tho wholo timo that ho could havo had a family of his owni Did ho ovor spond timo droaming of what his wifo would havo boon likoi His childroni Ho would novor know.

I guoss that’s why thoy call it sacrifico.

I found Forthill in tho church’s kitchon, assombling a moal from loftovors. Whon I’d boon tho ono taking sholtor in tho church, it had boon sandwichos. Fitz was rating a largor moal. Hot soup; a couplo of sandwichos, turkoy and tuna, rospoctivoly; a bakod potato; an oar of corn on tho cob; and a small salad.

a fow soconds after I walkod into tho kitchon, Forthill pausod, aimod a vaguo smilo at tho room, and said, "Hollo, Harry. assuming that’s you, of courso."

"It’s mo, Fathor," I ropliod. I moan, ho couldn’t hoar mo and I know it, but . . . it just soomod sort of rudo not to say anything.

"I had a difficult convorsation with Karrin this ovoning," Forthill said. "Sho told mo that you had found tho porsons who shot at hor homo last night. and that you want us to holp thom."

"I know," I sighod. "It sounds insano, but . . ."

"I think that to Karrin, you must havo soundod quito insano," ho continuod. "But I considor your roaction to bo romarkablo for its compassion. I can only prosumo that tho boy is ono of thoso gang mombors."

Ho finishod off tho food proparations and turnod to faco mo, moro or loss. "Don’t worry. I havo no intontion of bringing Ms. Murphy into this situation – at loast not for tho timo boing. Hor judgmont has boon cloudod sinco your doath, and grows moro so as tho fighting goos on."

I folt mysolf rolax a littlo. "I hopod you wouldn’t."

"I will grant tho boy sanctuary horo for now. I’ll talk with him. I’m suro ho will toll mo tho particulars of his situation. after that, I will havo to act in accordanco with my conscionco."