The Bully of Order by Brian Hart Read Free Book Online

Say thank you, Duncan.”
    â€œThank you.” He held the toy like it was alive in his hands.
    I paid for our lunch and asked if it’d be all right if I had another cup of coffee and sat for a while.
    â€œI’d be thrilled if you did, Mrs. Ellstrom.” Mr. Heath is a large man with narrow shoulders and small mouselike ears that stick straight out from his bald head.
    When he returned with the coffee, he asked how “the good doctor” was faring.
    â€œFine. He’s fine.” He knew about Mrs. Stevens, everyone did. He knew there was little to be trusted about Jacob and that the tide of the town was turning against him.
    â€œHe usually comes in to visit on Tuesdays for the pot roast, but he wasn’t here so I thought he might be home sick.”
    â€œNo, he’s fine. Just busy, you know.”
    â€œI hear he’s got big plans.” He motioned toward the street.
    â€œI wouldn’t know.”
    â€œMy wife says that too, but she knows more than I do about most things, me included.” Mr. Heath made an awkward wave to Duncan and went back to his shelves.
    We stayed there until the lunch hour passed and the store emptied. I sipped my coffee until it went cold and then let Heath take it away.
    He wiped the counter, and when he leaned in I could smell the pipe smoke in his clothes. “Stay as long as you want, Mrs. Ellstrom. If people walk by and see you in the window, they’re sure to come in.” He blushed, and I could see the sweat beaded along the edges of his eyebrows and on his upper lip. “I mean to say they won’t turn and run like when they see me.”
    â€œThank you, Mr. Heath.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    I brushed the crumbs from Duncan’s jacket and straightened his hair. He knew something was amiss and was behaving. I knew that he was too small to understand, to be worried about me, but he seemed to be aware. I thanked him for being so good. Thank you for being patient. He had the toy, and that contented him.
    Mr. Heath was in the back where the kitchen was and I could hear him talking to his wife. The story was that she’d come from Buenos Aires bound for Alaska with her husband, but he’d died at sea a week into their journey and when the ship came into the harbor seeking refuge from a storm she’d come ashore and found Heath alone stocking shelves and with hand gestures discovered he was unmarried. A year later they had a daughter, delivered by Jacob, born blind.
    By the time I mustered the courage to leave, Duncan was asleep in his chair, his chin stained green from candy. I felt for a moment like a failed governess and then much worse as a failed mother. I couldn’t walk through the streets unattached, unclaimed.
    The new doctor, Dr. Haslett, wasn’t home, so we waited on the porch. The day was nearly gone. I would’ve liked to be on my way before nightfall. He had a sign hanging from a post in the yard stating his qualifications. Jacob had no such sign. A rain-soaked bench sat between the trees, a rusted bucket sat atop the bench. The doctor’s garden plot was neglected and lumpy and clogged with weeds. The house needed paint. I didn’t remember who’d owned it last, but they hadn’t done much for upkeep. A mongrel dog came from the neighbor’s yard and slinked into the garden and used it for a privy. When Duncan caught sight of the mangy animal he tried to go down the stairs to catch it but I snatched him up and pinched him tight between my knees so he couldn’t get away. I told myself ten more minutes and then I’d go. I play games of patience, particularly in moments I find overly miserable. Ten-penny nail and a bucket of wax. Sink into it.
    The doctor noticed us on his way up the walk and his face brightened and he hurried like the bowlegged fat man he is up his steps.
    â€œWell, hello, Mrs. Ellstrom. What is it that I can do for you?” He unlocked the door and