Local Hero (5 page)

“Well, I wanted to think about it and talk to you before—”

“I'll behave.” Radley rushed over to wrap his arms around his mother's waist. “I promise. Mitch is much better than Mrs. Cohen. Lots better. She smells like mothballs and pats me on the head.”

“I rest my case,” Mitch murmured.

Hester sent Mitch a smoldering look. She wasn't accustomed to being outnumbered or to making a decision without careful thought and consideration. “Now, Radley, you know Mrs. Cohen's very nice. You've been staying with her for over two years.”

Radley squeezed harder and played his ace. “If I stayed with Mitch, I could come right home. And I'd do my homework first.” It was a rash promise, but it was a desperate situation. “You'd get home sooner, too, and everything. Please, Mom, say yes.”

She hated to deny him anything, because there were too many things she'd already had to. He was looking up at her now with his cheeks rosy with pleasure. Bending, she kissed him. “All right, Rad, we'll try it and see how it works out.”

“It's going to be great.” He locked his arms around her neck before he turned to Mitch. “It's going to be just great.”

Chapter 3

Mitch liked to sleep late on weekends—whenever he thought of them as weekends. Because he worked in his own home, at his own pace, he often forgot that to the vast majority there was a big difference between Monday mornings and Saturday mornings. This particular Saturday, however, he was spending in bed, largely dead to the world.

He'd been restless the evening before after he'd left Hester's apartment. Too restless to go back to his own alone. On the spur of the moment he'd gone out to the little lounge where the staff of Universal Comics often got together. He'd run into his inker, another artist and one of the staff writers for
The Great Beyond
, Universal's bid for the supernatural market. The music had been loud and none too good, which had been exactly what his mood had called for.

From there he'd been persuaded to attend an all-night horror film festival in Times Square. It had been past six when he'd come home, a little drunk and with only enough energy left to strip and tumble into bed—where he'd promised himself he'd stay for the next twenty-four hours. When the phone rang eight hours later, he answered it mostly because it annoyed him.

“Yeah?”

“Mitch?” Hester hesitated. It sounded as though he'd been asleep. Since it was after two in the afternoon, she dismissed the thought. “It's Hester Wallace. I'm sorry to bother you.”

“What? No, it's all right.” He rubbed a hand over his face, then pushed at the dog, who had shifted to the middle of the bed. “Damn it, Taz, shove over. You're breathing all over me.”

Taz? Hester thought as both brows lifted. She hadn't thought that Mitch would have a roommate. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. That was something she should have checked out. For Radley's sake.

“I really am sorry,” she continued in a voice that had cooled dramatically. “Apparently I've caught you at a bad time.”

“No.” Give the stupid mutt an inch and he took a mile, Mitch thought as he hefted the phone and climbed to the other side of the bed. “What's up?”

“Are you?”

It was the mild disdain in her voice that had him bristling. That and the fact that it felt as though he'd eaten a sandbox. “Yeah, I'm up. I'm talking to you, aren't I?”

“I only called to give you all the numbers and information you need if you watch Radley next week.”

“Oh.” He pushed the hair out of his eyes and glanced around, hoping he'd left a glass of watered-down soda or something close at hand. No luck. “Okay. You want to wait until I get a pencil?”

“Well, I . . .” He heard her put her hand over the receiver and speak to someone—Radley, he imagined from the quick intensity of the voice. “Actually, if it wouldn't put you out, Radley was hoping we could come by for a minute. He wants to introduce you to his friend. If you're busy, I can just drop the information by later.”

Mitch started to tell her to do just that. Not only could he go back to sleep, but he might just be able to wrangle five minutes alone with her. Then he thought of Radley standing beside his mother, looking up at her with those big dark eyes. “Give me ten minutes,” he muttered, and hung up before Hester could say a word.

Mitch pulled on jeans, then went into the bath to fill the sink with cold water. He took a deep breath and stuck his face in it. He came up swearing but awake. Five minutes later he was pulling on a sweatshirt and wondering if he'd remembered to wash any socks. All the clothes that had come back from the laundry neatly folded had been dumped on the chair in the corner of the bedroom. He briefly considered pushing his way through them, then let it go when he heard the knock. Taz's tail thumped on the mattress.

“Why don't you pick up this place?” Mitch asked him. “It's a pigsty.”

Taz grinned, showing a set of big white teeth, then made a series of growls and groans.

“Excuses. Always excuses. And get out of bed. Don't you know it's after two?” Mitch rubbed a hand over his unshaven chin, then went to open the door.

She looked great, just plain great, with a hand on a shoulder of each boy and a half smile on her face. Shy? he thought, a little surprised as he realized it. He had thought her cool and aloof, but now he believed she used that to hide an innate shyness, which he found amazingly sweet.

“Hiya, Rad.”

“Hi, Mitch,” Radley returned, almost bursting with importance. “This is my friend Josh Miller. He doesn't believe you're Commander Zark.”

“Is that so?” Mitch looked down at the doubting Thomas, a skinny towhead about two inches taller than Rad. “Come on in.”

“It's nice of you to put up with this,” Hester began. “We weren't going to have any peace until Rad and Josh had it settled.” The living room looked as though it had exploded. That was Hester's first thought as Mitch closed the door behind them. Papers and clothes and wrappers were everywhere. She imagined there was furniture, too, but she couldn't have described it.

“Tell Josh you're Commander Zark,” Radley insisted.

“I guess you could say that.” The notion pleased him. “I created him, anyway.” He looked down again at Josh, whose pout had gone beyond doubt to true suspicion. “You two go to school together?”

“Used to.” Josh stood close to Hester as he studied Mitch. “You don't look like Commander Zark.”

Mitch rubbed a hand over his chin again. “Rough night.”

“He is too Zark. Hey, look, Mom. Mitch has a VCR.” Radley easily overlooked the clutter and homed in on the entertainment center. “I'm saving up my allowance to buy one. I've got seventeen dollars.”

“It adds up,” Mitch murmured, and flicked a finger down Radley's nose. “Why don't we go into the office? I'll show you what's cooking in the spring issue.”

“Wow.”

Taking this as an assent, Mitch led the way.

The office, Hester noted, was big and bright and every bit as chaotic as the living room. She was a creature of order, and it was beyond her how anyone could produce under these conditions. Yet there was a drawing board set up, and tacked to it were sketches and captions.

“You can see Zark's going to have his hands full when Leilah teams up with the Black Moth.”

“The Black Moth. Holy cow.” Faced with the facts, Josh was duly impressed. Then he remembered his comic book history, and suspicion reared again. “I thought he destroyed the Moth five issues ago.”

“The Moth only went into hibernation after Zark bombarded the Zenith with experimental ZT-5. Leilah used her scientific genius to bring him out again.”

“Wow.” This came from Josh as he stared at the oversized words and drawings. “How come you make this so big? It can't fit in a comic book.”

“It has to be reduced.”

“I read all about that stuff.” Radley gave Josh a superior glance. “I got this book out of the library that gave the history of comic books, all the way back to the 1930s.”

“The Stone Age.” Mitch smiled as the boys continued to admire his work. Hester was doing some admiring of her own. Beneath the clutter, she was certain there was a genuine French rococo cupboard. And books. Hundreds of them. Mitch watched her wander the room. And would have gone on watching if Josh hadn't tugged on his arm.

“Please, can I have your autograph?”

Mitch felt foolishly delighted as he stared down at the earnest face. “Sure.” Shuffling through papers, he found a blank one and signed it. Then, with a flourish, he added a quick sketch of Zark.

“Neat.” Josh folded the paper reverently and slipped it in his back pocket. “My brother's always bragging because he's got an autographed baseball, but this is better.”

“Told ya.” With a grin, Radley moved closer to Mitch. “And I'm going to be staying with Mitch after school until Mom gets home from work.”

“No kidding?”

“All right, guys, we've taken up enough of Mr. Dempsey's time.” Hester started to shoo the boys along when Taz strolled into the room.

“Gee whiz, he's really big.” Radley started forward, hand out, when Hester caught him.

“Radley, you know better than to go up to a strange dog.”

“Your mom's right,” Mitch put in. “But in this case it's okay. Taz is harmless.”

And enormous, Hester thought, keeping a firm grip on both boys.

Taz, who had a healthy respect for little people, sat in the doorway and eyed them both. Small boys had a tendency to want to play rough and pull ears, which Taz suffered heroically but could do without. Waiting to see which way the wind blew, he sat and thumped his tail.

“He's anything but an aggressive dog,” Mitch reassured Hester. He stepped around her and put a hand on Taz's head. Without, Hester noted, having to bend over.

“Does he do tricks?” Radley wanted to know. It was one of his most secret wishes to own a dog. A big one. But he never asked, because he knew they couldn't keep one shut in an apartment all day alone.

“No, all Taz does is talk.”

“Talk?” Josh went into a fit of laughter. “Dogs can't talk.”

“He means bark,” Hester said, relaxing a little.

“No, I mean talk.” Mitch gave Taz a couple of friendly pats. “How's it going, Taz?”

In answer, the dog pushed his head hard against Mitch's leg and began to groan and grumble. Eyes wide and sincere, he looked up at his master and howled and hooted until both boys were nearly rolling with laughter.

“He
does
talk.” Radley stepped forward, palm up. “He really does.” Taz decided Radley didn't look like an ear puller and nuzzled his long snout in the boy's hand. “He likes me. Look, Mom.” It was love at first sight as Radley threw his arms around the dog's neck. Automatically Hester started forward.

“He's as gentle as they come, I promise you.” Mitch put a hand on Hester's arm. Even though the dog was already grumbling out his woes in Radley's ear and allowing Josh to pet him, Hester wasn't convinced.

“I don't imagine he's used to children.”

“He fools around with kids in the park all the time.” As if to prove it, Taz rolled over to expose his belly for stroking. “Added to that is the fact that he's bone lazy. He wouldn't work up the energy to bite anything that hadn't been put in a bowl for him. You aren't afraid of dogs, are you?”

“No, of course not.” Not really, she added to herself. Because she hated to show a weakness, Hester crouched down to pet the huge head. Unknowingly she hit the perfect spot, and Taz recognized a patsy when he saw one. He shifted to lay a paw on her thigh and, with his dark, sad eyes on hers, began to moan. Laughing, Hester rubbed behind his ears. “You're just a big baby, aren't you?”

“An operator's more like it,” Mitch murmured, wondering what sort of trick he'd have to do to get Hester to touch him with such feeling.

“I can play with him every day, can't I, Mitch?”

“Sure.” Mitch smiled down at Radley. “Taz loves attention. You guys want to take him for a walk?”

The response was immediate and affirmative. Hester straightened up, looking doubtfully at Taz. “I don't know, Rad.”

“Please, Mom, we'll be careful. You already said me and Josh could play in the park for a little while.”

“Yes, I know, but Taz is awfully big. I wouldn't want him to get away from you.”

“Taz is a firm believer in conserving energy. Why run if strolling gets you to the same place?” Mitch went back into his office, rooted around and came up with Taz's leash. “He doesn't chase cars, other dogs or park police. He will, however, stop at every tree.”

With a giggle, Radley took the leash. “Okay, Mom?”

She hesitated, knowing there was a part of her that wanted to keep Radley with her, within arm's reach. And, for his sake, it was something she had to fight. “A half hour.” The words were barely out when he and Josh let out a whoop. “You have to get your coats—and gloves.”

“We will. Come on, Taz.”

The dog gave a huge sigh before gathering himself up. Grumbling only a little, he stationed himself between the two boys as they headed out.

“Why is it every time I see that kid I feel good?”

“You're very kind to him. Well, I should go upstairs and make sure they bundle up.”

“I think they can handle it. Why don't you sit down?” He took advantage of her brief hesitation by taking her arm. “Come over by the window. You can watch them go out.”

She gave in because she knew how Radley hated to be hovered over. “Oh, I have my office number for you, and the name and number of his doctor and the school.” Mitch took the paper and stuck it in his pocket. “If there's any trouble at all, call me. I can be home in ten minutes.”

“Relax, Hester. We'll get along fine.”

“I want to thank you again. It's the first time since he started school that Rad's looked forward to a Monday.”

“I'm looking forward to it myself.”

She looked down, waiting to see the familiar blue cap and coat. “We haven't discussed terms.”

“What terms?”

“How much you want for watching him. Mrs. Cohen—”

“Good God, Hester, I don't want you to pay me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'll pay you.”

He put a hand on her shoulder until she'd turned to face him. “I don't need the money; I don't want the money. I made the offer because Rad's a nice kid and I enjoy his company.”

“That's very kind of you, but—”

His exasperated sigh cut her off. “Here come the buts again.”

“I couldn't possibly let you do it for nothing.”

Mitch studied her face. He'd thought her tough at their first meeting, and tough she was—at least on the outside. “Can't you accept a neighborly gesture?”

Her lips curved a bit, but her eyes remained solemn. “I guess not.”