Whisper (2 page)

“No, not everyone.”

Most kids didn’t like silence, especially with an adult in authority hovering. A lot of them took advantage and talked or asked questions. He’d welcome either at the moment.

“I guess you live around here,” she said.

He stole a glance and she sat there toughing the situation out. She was a small boned, fragile-looking girl. He hoped her mistrust came from warnings given by a parent. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of her learning hard lessons first-hand on the street. “Sure, grew up in Cleveland.”

“Why’d you help me?” she asked, getting right to the heart of it.

“Because I could.” Maybe if he opened up, she would too. “I have some half-wits for brothers and 6

Whisper

they have some quarter-wits for friends. I’ve traveled the last few years and they had some run-ins with the cops getting used to their freedom. They figured it out though. They aren’t bad kids and you didn’t look like one either.”

“I’m not.”

“Glad to hear I didn’t use all my political influence to get a hardened criminal off the hook.” When she laughed quietly, he relaxed. She might even drink part of the milk shake. Silence stretched before she eventually said, “It wasn’t for me.” “What?”

“There was an accident,” she began, before a tumble of words came out. “There’s stuff to eat and I know she leaves it for me, and I tried talking her into it, even a sandwich, but she said she wasn’t hungry and—”

Cheryl appeared at the side of table and the girl stopped short. She placed the coffee and milkshake down and left. He turned in the seat and slowly stirred sugar and cream into the steaming cup, waiting for the rest of her story. He gave her some time and when she didn’t speak, he glanced up and found her silently crying. He gave his attention and waited.

“I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes and sighed heavily.

“For what? Worrying about someone you love?

Don’t be. Too many people don’t give a shit.” Her gaze finally met his. “You care. I can tell.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a chump,” he said which made her laugh. When she smiled, a really cute kid emerged. It burned his ass that a girl her age was out so late at night alone, worrying about food.

After peeling the paper wrapper off the straw, she stuck it in the oversized shake. She took a small taste and her expression lit up. If only a chocolate, 7

Kathleen Lash

peanut butter, banana shake with extra vanilla could fix more problems.

“I would’ve gone back and paid for it.” The straw moved up and down in the thick goo. “As soon as we get paid again, I would’ve taken money to the store.

I don’t get into trouble.” Her posture relayed embarrassment.

“So, some meat could fix your problems and you didn’t have the money?”

She slumped against the seat. “Wow, that sounds lame.”

“Not at all.” He tasted the coffee. “Sometimes, all it takes is something really small to fix a bigger problem.”

The next time she took a sip, she made it a long one, using the napkin to dab her lips. Once she relaxed, she yawned. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Keith Manchester.” When her mouth dropped open, he ventured a guess at what caused her surprise. “Uh, oh, you know one of my kids?”

“We rent from someone named Manchester. The family across the street is yours?” Wide eyes streaked with red gazed at him.

Apparently she knew the boys in a good way. He couldn’t imagine his brothers giving a kid like her any trouble. “Do you live on Bessimer?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I bet you rented the little gray house with black trim.”

“We did. All those kids belong to you?”

“No.” He laughed. He wouldn’t personally claim
all
the kids hanging out at home. “Mark, Corey and Billy are my brothers. The rest? When they need a safe place to crash, they show up.”

“We haven’t lived there very long.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood. Glad to meet 8

Whisper

you…” He held out his hand until she accepted it for a handshake.

“I’m Heather Neuman, but I guess I look like a Terry.”

It took him a second to remember the name he’d given her at the store. “So, Heather, since we’re neighbors, why don’t you tell me why you got busted for stealing fifteen dollars worth of meat?” 9

Kathleen Lash

Keith and Heather pulled into the driveway an hour and a half later. He put the SUV in park and turned off the motor. She climbed out, walked to the back and picked up a paper grocery bag before pulling a key from her jeans pocket. He grabbed three bags and followed her across the cement walkway. With just her and an older sister to feed, the food would probably last until her sister got back to work. He hadn’t pushed to find out specifically what happened. Heather’s reluctance to explain reminded him it wasn’t his business.

The small house was as neat as a pin. The furniture had been stylish a decade ago and appeared gently used. After dropping the bags on the counter, he looked at the older stove and made a mental note to have a new one installed. The last he knew, the antique appliance worked, but probably wasn’t conducive to making the chore of cooking any easier, and they’d bought food to prepare, not convenience items.

He never realized a trip through a grocery store could be so telling. The kid eyed a number of things, but didn’t pick them up. He’d given her free rein to get whatever they’d need for three or four weeks.

She priced items out, took store brands rather than name brands, and a lot of the purchases came from him putting something in the cart after she hesitantly replaced it on the shelf.

A few trips back and forth left one last bag to bring inside. They made their way to his SUV in the 10

Whisper

moonless, dark night to retrieve it. The nearest streetlight glared four houses away. The city needed to be more vigilant replacing lights shot out by pellets from BB guns, or rocks thrown by bored children. With the last grocery bag in her arms, someone approached from behind.

“Heather!” A woman rushed from the sidewalk.

Heather dropped the bag and Keith caught it.

“Sorry, Whisper,” Heather replied. “I thought you’d be napping. I’m sorry.”

“Where were you?”

“I…went out. And I—”

“Go inside. Immediately!”

Heather started backing away after taking the bag from him. “Thanks. You’ll be paid, I promise. I’m sorry for any trouble.”

When he closed the back hatch on the SUV, he waited until Heather stepped inside before turning to regard her sister. Heather’s quick retreat made a really foul mood descend. Tired and feeling a little protective of the kid, he remembered he hadn’t gotten his damn beer.

“Look,” he said, “nothing happened to her, she’s home and safe. It’s late and she’s worn out. Let her explain and take it easy on her.”

“Anything else?” The woman’s voice didn’t carry far, but the menace came through loud and clear.

“Sure. Take better care of your sister.” He instantly regretted the words. It wasn’t his business.

“Who are you? Why was she with you?” He sighed. “She got in some trouble and I walked into it. She told me you were having a hard time and we went to the grocery store. It’s no big deal, so don’t turn it into one.”

“What do you want?” She spat enough accusation in her question to make the Pope re-think recent actions.

His mood wouldn’t tolerate her tone of voice. He 11

Kathleen Lash

took a step toward her and she backed away. He’d only wanted to get close so their voices wouldn’t carry. Heather stood in the doorway and she’d already been through enough for one night. “Listen carefully. Take better care of your sister,” he said.

He couldn’t make out a single feature in the darkness, but saw her sway. Two females living alone in his neighborhood said a lot. The woman staggering around when Heather thought she’d be
napping
, said even more. The kid being secretive and avoiding direct explanations, just about spelled it out. He’d seen plenty in thirty-two years.

“Sober up, get your ass to work, and take care of that kid. If she ever steals food again, you’ll be doing some explaining—to the cops. You take any of this out on her, and I’ll come have another chat with you.

Get me?”

He expected a retort. She turned, walked quickly into the house and closed the door before locks clicked. She’d retreat like that from guilt.

Booze—drugs, it didn’t matter, all users had an excuse and most of the people with the best excuses took up residence around his house. The last few years took a toll on the area.

Climbing into the driver’s seat, he started the truck. Another eight months or so, and they’d be leaving. They wouldn’t move far. They’d stay close enough so Mark, Corey, and their friends could commute. Too, most of the better paying jobs were in town. As for the rest of what the neighborhood offered—he’d had a belly full. The violence, crime and drugs kept moving closer. With two brothers still under eighteen, he couldn’t ignore all the changes.

He barely fit the SUV into a spot at the end of the driveway. Of course the house would be crammed with kids on a Friday night.
Good, more
hands to help tomorrow
. The front door stood wide 12

Whisper

open and when he walked in, Mark jumped to his feet. His little brother looked good. Mark took his hand for a firm handshake before grabbing him in a rough hug.

“Jesus, Keith, where the hell have you been?” Mark asked.

Marks’ girlfriend, Christy, lay sleeping on the couch with pizza boxes and pop cans on the coffee table.

“I got sidetracked.” The resonant
thump, thump,
thump
from below, made him smile. “Party in the crypt?”

Mark smirked. “Yeah, that sound room gets more use than even the bathroom. It’s a great diversion for Corey.”

“I bet the neighbors think so, too.” No one ever complained outright, but the noise before the construction of the practice room could be ear shattering. “Where’s my little guy?”

“Billy went to bed a few hours back. He’s been a handful since he found out you were coming home.” Keith laughed. His youngest brother probably missed him the most. At ten, he was too little for trouble of a serious nature, and too old to think Keith worked out of state for the fun of it.

“You look like hell. Did you eat?”

“Yeah, found something on the way home.”

“Are we hitting it hard in the morning?”

“I said we were. I keep promises.” Despite Mark trying to hide it, his expression held dread. “We’ll bust our asses tomorrow, get it done, and you can play all day Sunday and Monday with Christy.”

“No problem. She’ll be here to help too.” Mark shifted and hit his palm against his leg like something occurred to him. “This has to suck for you.

You get two days home and you have to fix shit around here. What time is your flight out on Sunday?”

13

Kathleen Lash

“Five.”

“Damn it, you won’t have time to do anything!

Couldn’t you get a later flight?”

“I’m working graveyard shift. If nothing bad happens at the airport, I’ll make it back just in time to work Sunday night.”

At twenty, Mark had grown a lot over the last year, and not just in height. The kid worried too much and Keith regretted saddling him with their two younger brothers.

“You know,” Mark said, “I can pick up a second job and Corey can get a job after school so you could be here.”

“No.” They’d had the conversation before, and he thought all the crazy ideas stopped when he’d been home on the Fourth of July. “I make a shit load of money and you help me by keeping the kids in line.

Corey doesn’t work when he’s in school. His grades suck the way it is. You need to be here in the evenings. Hell, if Christy didn’t work an early shift and high tail it over here, Billy would be letting himself in after school.”

“He’s ten. He could do it.”

“No.”

“So you kill yourself and we all kick back and lap it up? You were working double shifts when you were my age. Hell, you worked full time when you were sixteen and Corey doesn’t do shit.”

“Are the kids too much? Is that what this is about?”

“No.” After a brief pause, he said, “Hell, no!”

“You sure? This subject seems to come up a lot lately. You need some freedom? If you do, that’d change the way we’ve handled things.”

“I’m sure. Sorry. This isn’t about me, or even the kids.”

He appreciated the concern but didn’t need it. “A few more years and I’m done. Maybe not even that 14

Whisper

long. Then you’ll all get sick of me working local and tightening the leash I’ll sling around your necks.”

“You’ve been traveling long enough. A few more years and there won’t be anything left of you. You work eighty hours a week. The crazy shit they have you doing—”

“Pays the long dollar.”
End of conversation.

“Now, has
Body of Suffering
gotten any better?” Corey and his friends started the band three years ago. What they lacked in talent, they made up for in determination and amplifiers. The hobby necessitated the construction of the sound proof room in the basement for rehearsals.

Mark laughed. “Actually, we don’t suffer
as
bad these days when they play. Are you going down?”

“Not tonight. They sound like they’re making progress so I’ll leave them alone.”

“The guys would like to see you.”

“Yeah.” Keith knew all of them and had little trouble connecting with the kids. His own sixteen-year old brother however, was a different story. The kid hated him, and he didn’t know why. They’d been close once, really close. The longer Keith traveled, the more Corey seemed to chew on the mouth full of resentment. He’d never come right out and say what the problem was, either. “I’ll catch them in the morning.”

Keith walked toward the stairs and stopped when Mark asked, “What time?”

“We’ll let the neighbors sleep for a while. How about ten?”

When Mark didn’t respond, Keith turned on the bottom step. Mark asked, “You okay?”

“Sure. Why?”

“You don’t want to start until ten?”