Comes the Blind Fury by John Saul Read Free Book Online Page B

all the time.” Sally patted the bed, and Michelle settled herself gingerly at its foot. But her eyes remained fixed on the window.
    “You must look like your mother,” Sally said.
    “Huh?” Michelle, surprised at the observation, finally tore her gaze from the window, and met Sally’s eyes.
    “I said you must look like your mother. You sure don’t look like your father.”
    “I don’t look like Mom, either,” Michelle replied. “I’m adopted.”
    Sally’s mouth opened. “You are?” There was a note of awe in her voice that almost made Michelle giggle.
    “Well, it’s no big deal.”
    “I think it is,” Sally said. “I think it’s neat.”
    “Why?”
    “Well, I mean, you could be anybody, couldn’t you? Who do you think your real parents were?”
    It was a conversation Michelle had been though before with her friends in Boston, and she had never been able to understand their interest in the subject. As far as she was concerned, her parents were the Pendletons, and that was that. But rather than try to explain it all to Sally, she changed the subject.
    “What’s wrong with your arm?”
    Sally, easily diverted from the subject of Michelle’s ancestors, rolled her eyes up in an expression of disgust. “I tripped, and twisted it or something, and now everybody’s making a big deal out of it.”
    “But doesn’t it hurt?” Michelle asked.
    “A little bit,” Sally conceded, unwilling to let her pain show. “Are you really your father’s assistant?”
    Michelle shook her head. “Dr. Carson asked him to bring me along.” She smiled. “I’m glad he did.”
    “So am I,” Sally agreed. “Uncle Joe’s neat that way.”
    “He’s your uncle?”
    “Not really. But all the kids call him Uncle Joe. He delivered almost all of us.” There was a pause, then Sally looked at Michelle shyly. “Could I come out to your house sometime?”
    “Sure. Haven’t you ever been in it?”
    Sally shook her head. “Uncle Joe never had anybody over there. He was really weird about that house—always saying he was going to tear it down but never doing it. And then, after what happened last spring, everyone was sure he’d tear it down. But I guess you know all about that, don’t you?”
    “Know about what?” Michelle asked.
    Sally’s eyes widened. “You mean nobody told you? About Alan Hanley?”
    Alan Hanley. That was the name of the boy in the hospital in Boston. “What about him?”
    “Uncle Joe hired him to do something to the roof—fix some slates or something, I guess. And he fell off. They took him to Boston, but he died anyway.”
    “I know,” Michelle said slowly. Then: “It was our house he fell off of?”
    Sally nodded.
    “Nobody told me that.”
    “Nobody ever tells kids anything,” Sally remarked. “But we always find out anyway.” She shrugged the matter aside, eager to get back to the subject of the Pendletons’ house. “What’s it like inside?”
    Michelle did her best to describe the house to Sally, who listened in fascination. When Michelle was finished, Sally lay back against her pillow, and sighed.
    “It sounds like it’s just the way I always thought it would be. I think it’s the most romantic house I’ve ever seen.”
    “I know,” Michelle agreed. “I like to pretend it’s just my house, and I live there all alone, and—and.…” Her voice trailed off, and she blushed in embarrassment.
    “And what?” Sally urged her. “Do you have … love affairs?”
    Michelle nodded guiltily. “Isn’t that terrible? To imagine things like that?”
    “I don’t know. I do the same thing.”
    “You do? What’s the boy like, when you pretend?”
    “Jeff Benson,” Sally said immediately. “He lives right next door to you.”
    “I know,” Michelle said. “I met him the day we moved out here, down on the beach. He’s really cute, isn’t he?” A thought suddenly occurred to her: “Is he your boyfriend?”
    Sally shook her head. “I like him, but I guess he’s