The Book of Joby (112 page)

Merlin reached up to touch the window between himself and what he’d seen. “You are a
true
bard now, my boy,” he said. “My
great
-grandson. I’m so proud of you.”

Merlin stepped back to look around the empty mall. “Having trouble
keeping all your balls in the air, Beelzebub?” he called happily into the air above him. “Hawk is playing a very different tune than the one you called for, is he not?” Merlin did a little jig into the center of the plaza—his first merry moment in so very long—then sighed and sat back down to focus once again on the endless task of winning his freedom.

Hawk had dinner going on the stove when Joby trudged into the small rental cottage they now shared, collapsed into a chair, and stared up at the ceiling for a while before scrubbing at his bloodshot eyes. Hawk turned back to his cooking with a frown. Two months of crusading for “justice” had taken a heavy toll on his father.

The very morning after Rose’s memorial, Donaldson had issued a warrant for Nacho’s arrest, apparently eager to justify his use of pepper spray by claiming Nacho had attacked him as Ander was being cuffed. Joby had gone off like a bomb, visiting every community leader he knew to point out that lots of boys had been arrested that night for nothing more than shouting at a distance, while Nacho had sat bleeding into a bucket for half an hour surrounded by cops who hadn’t even mentioned his even more serious supposed offense, much less arrested him for it. By the following day, Donaldson’s warrant had been quietly rescinded. By week’s end there’d been a huge town meeting at which Donaldson and his faction had faced hundreds of unhappy residents. Donaldson might still have stopped it there just by conceding there’d been errors made and dropping charges against Ander and the others, but he hadn’t, so the fire had spread.

“Smells good,” said Joby, opening his eyes to smile wearily at Hawk.

“Ready in about five minutes,” Hawk replied, stirring what was in the frying pan one more time before going to set the table.

“I can do that,” Joby said, starting to rise.

“No, just rest,” Hawk insisted. “I’m already on it.”

Joby leaned back again with a grateful sigh.

The county sheriff had called Joby personally to tell him what a divisive, conniving, dangerous, possibly criminal element he was for stirring up all this trouble against his sterling men. But Joby had been harder to intimidate than Mansfield had expected. An internal investigator had been sent out to grill everyone involved, then investigators from the state capital. Even the
regional senator’s office had made inquiries, until Joby’s life had become just one long parade of official inquisitions and media interviews, not to mention all the politicking required to keep pressure up and people reassured while the ponderous wheels of inquiry and deliberation had rolled on.

By now, Donaldson’s story had sprung more leaks than a rubber raft full of porcupines. There’d been
hundreds
of kids on the beach, he claimed, though nowhere near that many could be accounted for now. Coulson’s men had seen
forty
bongs around those fires, and beers in every minor’s hand, though not one of these illicit items had been seized that night. Nor had Donaldson shown any proven cause yet regarding those he’d pepper-sprayed. It had been a riot, Donaldson kept insisting; but no one else who’d been there had seen it that way, except his fellow officers, of course, and Hamilton, who hadn’t been there. Ander had been known for years around the village as a quiet, well-liked boy, a good student and hard-working employee. Donaldson could hardly have picked a worse “criminal” to haul away in cuffs. As week had followed tumultuous week, Hawk had begun to feel almost sorry for the embattled man, who, by now, seemed desperate for peace, but still refused to drop his charges against Ander and the others.

“You want juice or milk?” Hawk asked, going to dish the stir-fry into their plates.

“Juice,” said Joby, climbing to his feet. “Thanks for cooking, son.”

“Just felt like something edible tonight.” Hawk grinned as Joby joined him at the table. “You only get to cook when I’m not hungry, remember?”

“You’re just jealous of my skill with Tupperware,” Joby parried as he sat down.

Unsurprisingly, Joby had been pulled over twice this month for “fix-it” tickets, but he hadn’t wasted any of his precious energy protesting such petty aggravations. He’d just told Hawk it was a fair price to pay for the greater satisfaction of discovering that people of goodwill could still make a difference against corrupt power. The proverbial fat lady hadn’t sung yet, but things were looking more promising for Taubolt’s kids and less for Donaldson all the time, and Joby was clearly more proud of his community than ever.

Nonetheless, the lengthy campaign had not been good for Hawk’s father. Not only was he tired all the time now, he seemed angry too. His whole life revolved around conflict now. On several occasions when Joby had been in the shower, or outside chopping wood, Hawk had heard him muttering and yelling as if Donaldson or Hamilton had been right there accusing him of something.

“Know what day tomorrow is?” Hawk asked as they began to eat.

“Nope,” said Joby, scooping food into his mouth. “What day?”

“Saturday,” said Hawk.

“Oh,” said Joby, looking at him quizzically. “And you’re saying this because . . .?”

“I think we should go hiking tomorrow,” Hawk said, “like we used to.”

“God, that sounds great,” Joby said. “Can’t though. Got a meeting with the county mediator in the morning, and the Youth Park Committee in the afternoon. Only day they could do it,” he said around another mouthful of stir-fry.

“Cancel it,” Hawk said gruffly. “The
youth
can get their park a week later.”

Joby looked up, seeming startled.

“Sorry,” Hawk apologized. “It’s just . . . This is all so out of hand, Joby.”

Joby shrugged. “Not much I can do about it. Life goes on, Hawk.”

“You’ve got a life?” Hawk said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Joby, all I’ve seen you do for months is ‘fight for justice.’ Maybe if you just got on with your life, and let this thing with Donaldson go, he might too.”

“You want me to give up three feet shy of the finish line? With charges still pending against all those kids, and let Donaldson off scot-free? You know me better than that, Hawk.” With a wounded look, Joby added, “I’d hoped you’d be proud of me.”

“Of course I’m proud of you,” Hawk protested. “That doesn’t mean I have to like watching you fall on your knife. You’re too wrapped up in all the crap that’s gone down around here, and I just think it would be good if you just took a little breather. The whole town backs you on this, Joby, and you’ve brought them all this way. Can’t you just let
them
do some of the cleanup?”

“What kind of man would that make me?” Joby said almost scornfully.

“A living one,” Hawk muttered. Joby could take this whole integrity thing to such ridiculous lengths sometimes. “It’s not like God appointed you to save the world.”

“All right,” Joby said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “What, exactly, am I
supposed
to be doing while everyone else in Taubolt is finishing what I started?”

“You should get out of here completely,” Hawk said. “Take a vacation.”

“I live in one of America’s premier resort towns!” Joby laughed. “Sunny beaches, magnificent forests, hiking, biking, kayaking on scenic rivers, quaint
shops, and world-class restaurants overlooking the blue Pacific! Haven’t you read the Chamber’s new brochure? Where else would I want to go?”

Hawk stared at his food, deciding it was time to say it. “To see mom.” He looked up to find the laughter gone from Joby’s face.

His father dropped his gaze, and asked quietly, “Has she told you she wants that?”

“No,” Hawk said. “But I know she’d like it if you did.”

“No dice,” Joby said without looking up.

“Dad,” Hawk said, an appellation he still found strange and rarely used, but which seemed very to the point just now, “you still love her, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” Joby said. “But I’ve got no business bothering her unless she wants to see me, and if she did, I’m sure she’d tell me so.”

“Maybe not,” Hawk pressed. “I understand how you felt when you found out about everything, but she really thought she was saving you, and it hurt her when you didn’t even try to see that. Maybe she’s just waiting for you to take the first—”

Joby raised a hand to stop him. “If you’re trying to make me feel bad, son, you’re months too late. I do. I have . . . since hours after I destroyed everything.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” Hawk growled. “I’m just saying that maybe
you’ve
got to be the one to fix what happened. Maybe she just needs—”

“Some things can’t be fixed,” Joby said, looking up at last. His expression made Hawk want to wince. “Once you break them, you just have to make room for what’s left.” He got up and took his half-finished meal to the kitchenette, turned the water on, and stared into the sink. “I hurt her back in high school, much, much worse than I ever knew, and when she was brave enough to give me a second chance, I promised I would never hurt her again.” He laid his dishes under the water, and turned to look at Hawk with steely resignation. “But I did, Hawk. What should I go say to her now? I promise . . .
again
? . . . Third time’s the charm?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hawk. You have no idea how sorry. . . . She deserved better, and so did you. But if she wanted to give me more chances, she wouldn’t have moved so far away from Taubolt.”

“I still can’t believe this works!” Joby said in hushed wonder as he set a ring of dandelion seeds spinning clockwise, then counterclockwise, in the air above their heads.

“You learn faster than anyone I ever heard of,” GB said quietly.

“Well, that would be largely to my teacher’s credit,” Joby said, letting the ring of seeds disintegrate on the breeze as he turned to grin wanly at GB. His face was pallid with fatigue, his eyes red-rimmed for want of sleep. The sight filled Lucifer with satisfaction as Joby’s grin grew careworn, and vanished altogether. “I wish Solomon could see this,” Joby said sadly. “He’d be so surprised.”

Buck up, Joby,
Lucifer thought dryly.
He’s missing not a moment of it.
“But you’re not showin’ this to anybody yet, right?” GB said aloud.

“No, GB,” Joby sighed, bending to sit on a tangled hump of tree roots. “I’m not going to blow your cover.”

“Just a few more months, and it won’t seem so sudden,” GB said apologetically. “It’s just, if these demons can get to an ancient like Solomon, what chance would I have? If they even suspect I could get into their minds, I’d be dead in two seconds.”

“You’re really that sure it wasn’t just a stroke?” Joby asked glumly.

“I told you; guys as powerful as Solomon don’t just have strokes. It was them, all right, though I still wonder what he was doin’ up there at all when you were gone.”

“You’re too suspicious, GB,” Joby said. “I’ve known him for years. Besides, he wouldn’t have talked to Gladys first if he was trying to sneak into my room.”

“Unless he just wanted to be sure you were out,” GB insisted. “You said they all used to hide from you, right? Are you so sure they’re not still hiding?”

“Hiding what?” said Joby. “GB, I hate to say it, but you’re sounding awfully paranoid these days.”

“I know,” GB scowled, “but can you blame me? Don’t you see what’s goin’ on around here? This isn’t just some little band of asshole demons who stopped to look around on their way through. They’re
staying
’til they take Taubolt down
completely.
Every last brick! Why? Why now? What are we really caught in the middle of here, Joby? Has anybody told you? You bet I’m paranoid. You should be too.” GB shook his head in frustration. “I finally reach a place I could stay with people like me, and get here just in time to see it all destroyed. You have any idea what that’s like?”

“Yes,” Joby said sadly. “I do.” His eyes were seeing something elsewhere. Lucifer suppressed a smile, imagining all the many elsewheres it might be. “That’s about
all
I ever knew ’til I came here.” Joby’s red-rimmed eyes
focused again. “We’ve still got Jake, GB, and a lot of gifted people on the Council. They’ll think of some way to—”