Diary of a Witness by Catherine Ryan Hyde Read Free Book Online Page A

fryer and cut up some French fries. I’ll make my famous beer batter. Now don’t give me that look. I’m not corrupting you. It’s only a little beer, and the alcohol cooks away anyway. I’m going to make us the biggest, most golden brown mountain of fish-and-chips you ever saw. And I’ll lay you odds we still won’t have polished off half of this beauty.”
    While he talked, I was busy looking at the half-filleted fish. Trying to see beauty.
    We sat down to lunch, and I took a bite of the fish. Carefully. Like I half expected it to bite me back or something. It was terrific. Hot and crispy outside and really fluffy and moist and fresh inside. Just fell apart in my mouth. I wolfed down two pieces before my mom broke the silence.
    “So, Max,” she said, and I could already smell trouble. “Did you have a talk with Ernie about things?”
    “Yes. I did. And we’re done with such things. He’s heard enough now.”
    “I hope you’re right. After all, he could have been killed. Going out all alone—”
    He cut her off in mid-sentence. “He was there, Lila. He knows how dangerous it was. It scared him more than it could ever scare you. You want to keep reaming him out forit so he’ll think twice before doing something like that again. But he’ll never in his life face a dangerous situation without feeling the fear of that day. You don’t have to put the fear of God in him, Lila. God installed it directly. Yesterday. Now it’s time to show him some support. He’s had a trauma. He needs comforting.”
    At first she said nothing at all. Just shoveled in a few French fries. Then she said, “I suppose you’re right, Max. As usual.” She sounded hurt.
    He reached over and put his hand on top of hers on the table. “I know you’re just trying to protect the boy and take care of him. But take care of his insides, too. Just because he survived doesn’t mean he’s okay.”
    She nodded.
    “Speaking of which,” he said, turning his attention back to me, “how’s your friend Will doing with his insides?”
    “Not good,” I said.
    My mother looked up suddenly. “You talked to him? When did you talk to him?”
    “Just a little bit on the Internet last night. I think we both had trouble sleeping.”
    Then the table went quiet again. Just when I wanted it not to. I wanted to talk some more about Will, and how he wasn’t okay. But I couldn’t. Because I couldn’t tell anybody what he’d said to let me know he wasn’t okay. I was sworn to secrecy. So I just sat there and said nothing.
    I looked at that big platter of fish in the middle of thetable. All golden brown and steamy. And I thought, Uncle Max did it again. He taught me to see beauty in that fish. It didn’t look like the devil at all to me now. Now that it was beer-battered and fried to perfection, it looked really magnificent.
    I took two more pieces.
    Uncle Max helped me get the other half of the fish into the freezer. He cut it into serving-size pieces—big servings, our-house servings—and handed each one to me, and I wrapped them in plastic wrap and put them all in a giant ziplock freezer bag.
    “Should I leave you with my recipe for beer batter?”
    “Uh, no. No thanks, Uncle Max. It was delicious. But I think with the other half I should … you know … bake it or something.” He didn’t say anything, so I felt like I had to. I just had to spit it out. “I’m trying to lose weight.”
    When I looked up, he was looking right into my face. He’ll do that sometimes, just look at you for a long time before he says anything. Like he’s trying to work something out. “Good for you, Ernie. My apologies. If I’d known, I’d have fixed lunch some other way.”
    “Oh, no, it’s okay. It was delicious. Besides, you didn’t know.”
    “I’m surprised Lila didn’t tell me.”
    “Well. That’s because she …” I just kind of ran out of steam and never finished.
    “Because she …,” he said, trying to lead me to it.
    “Doesn’t