Breeding Ground by Sally Wright Read Free Book Online

you’re not too tired?”
    He started coughing again, and a nurse came in to check his vitals. When she left, he drank more water, and rested quietly for a minute, without trying to speak.
    Jo waited, shifting in her chair, till she couldn’t stand the silence. “Would you want to talk to someone else who was in the O.S.S.? His name’s Alan Munro. He was a good friend of Tom’s in Virginia, and he’s just moved here.”
    â€œHave you read
The Count Of Monte Cristo
?”
    â€œYes, of course. Years ago now. Though I—”
    â€œI was wrongly accused too. Much the way Edmond Dantès was. And like him, his first years in prison, I don’t know who was responsible.” Jack looked away toward the window.
    And Jo studied the pain on his face – the frustration, the anger, the private humiliation – seeing then for the first time the suffering he’d gone through. “I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t know what to say.”
    Jack didn’t answer, and turned his face even further away – till he finally sighed and closed his eyes. “That’s what led me to find Tom this March. I was in the hospital at Christmas, and saw the handwriting on the wall. If I was ever going to stop drinking and start again I had to do it soon. I should’ve faced the truth then, but didn’t. And it wasn’t until March that I saw I couldn’t do it alone. Tom told me in ’45 that if I ever decided I needed help, I should come to him.”
    â€œI’m sure he would’ve wanted you to.” Jo was watching Jack carefully, thinking it was time to go for his sake. Yet the intensity she’d seen when he talked, the pain and shame that had swept across his face, kept her from saying anything, and made her stay where she was.
    Jack blew his nose, and leaned back on his pillows before he spoke again. “When I sobered myself up this March, I phoned Tom’s house – your house – in Versailles, and started walking, even though there’d been no answer. I knew I had to get moving before I changed my mind. I assumed that even if Tom didn’t live here, you, or your mother, or someone else in Versailles, would know where he was.”
    â€œI wish he’d been here for all of us.”
    â€œYes. For sadly, and against my better judgment, I’ve now burdened you. With me. Here. With pneumonia. I’m sorry for that. I am, Josie. Tom would have my hide.” His eyes looked terrible, bloodshot and exhausted. The skin around his mouth, where they’d shaved him before giving him oxygen, was papery white and drawn. His lips were dry and cracked too, bleeding in the left hand corner.
    â€œOnce I get out of here, I’ll find a job. I’ll make myself a nest egg and see what I can do.” Even Jack didn’t look as though he believed that, not with much real confidence, as he wiped his forehead with the last of the tissues. “I’ll have the hospital bills to pay too, though they shouldn’t amount to much. According to what the doctor says.”
    Jo handed him a new box of tissues from the drawer in the bedside table. “You don’t have to make plans now. Just concentrate on getting better.”
    They were both quiet for a minute, looking at nothing in particular, letting the words sink in.
    Then Jo asked Jack about his parents. And watched him turn toward the window again.
    â€œIt’s a complicated situation. I don’t wish to speak of them now. If I find a job, and make a new start, then perhaps I’ll go see them.”
    â€œWhy? If you were my son, I’d be frantic to know where you were, and how you’re doing, and I’d be worrying that—”
    â€œThey’re not like most people.”
    â€œNo? Come on, Jack. It might do you good to talk about them.” Jo Grant had stood up and stretched, and was plumping Jack’s pillows, helping him sit up straighter the