Children of Hope Read Online Free PDF Page B

Where was the scorn that had dripped from his voice a few months past, when we sat cross-legged on our beds?
    The door was ajar, but their voices were too low for me to catch many words. Kev sounded earnest. He paused, answered a question. Once, he pointed to the lobby, and my chair. Then more murmurs. Questions. “No,” Kevin replied, several times. “No, sir.”
    At last, he poked his head into the hall, gestured urgently. I uncurled myself, headed for Mr Dakko’s office.
    My school—Outer Central Academy—had a principal, Mr Warzburg. His office was at the end of a long hall. If you got sent there, the best you could hope for was a stern lecture. For serious offenses you’d get really hard whacks with the strap he kept on the wall. Once, they’d caught Alex complaining about the “goddamn tomatoes” he had to process, and the crack of his chastisement echoed all the way to the ball court. Afterward, a very subdued young Hopewell had made his shamefaced way outside. Blasphemy wasn’t tolerated.
    It hadn’t happened to me yet, though I’d come close.
    There was that sense of dread, trudging to Mr Warzburg’s office, that I felt now. Abruptly I wished I weren’t so disheveled, that I hadn’t spent the night curled in a grimy shed.
    I shuffled in. Staying with Kevin was beginning to seem a really bad idea. Perhaps if I called Anthony, made my tone sufficiently meek …
    Kevin’s father tipped his chair back against the window, hands clasped behind his head. He was slim, and wore casual business dress. His plain, scarred desk held nothing but a caller and a stack of holochips.
    At the sight of me he came to his feet. His hair, once black, was shot through with jets of gray. A brief smile, which softened the lines on his face. “Hi. I’m Chris Dakko.” He extended a hand for a firm shake.
    I mumbled something, found I had to repeat it to be heard. “We’ve met, sir.”
    “Yes, you went to church with us.” Blue eyes lit me like a searchlight.
    I flushed. One’s sins come back to haunt one.
    Kevin glanced between us, licking his lips.
    “My son says you need refuge.” Mr Dakko’s tone was dry.
    “Yessir.” My voice squeaked. I blushed furiously. “Just for a few days.” I couldn’t ask for more.
    From his cracked leather seat, he studied me. “I know your uncle Anthony.”
    “I’m the uncle.” Why did I sound apologetic? “He’s my nephew.”
    “Ah, yes. You’re Derek’s boy.” Mr Dakko’s fingers drummed the desktop. “Have you committed a crime, Randy?”
    Other than running away? “No, sir.” But that was bad enough. And in three days, when Independence Day break was done, I’d be counted as truant. It wasn’t just Anth who’d be after me.
    “Are they searching for you?” Had Mr Dakko read my mind?
    “I don’t think so.” Anthony’s style would be more to let me starve, until I came crawling back. And then lower the boom.
    “I’ll have to tell him where you are.”
    “Why?” I knew I sounded sullen, but couldn’t help it. “He doesn’t have custody.”
    “Who does?”
    “My mother. Sandra Carr.”
    “I thought the Stadholder was raising you.”
    “He is. Was.” I struggled to explain. “He doesn’t have papers. Anything he tells me, though, he has Mom’s assent.” Mom was lost to the comfort of her chemdreams, though I’d die before I told an outsider like Mr Dakko. Some matters we Carrs kept private.
    “Mppf.” He rocked, folding his arms. Then, “Well, your nephew’s no great friend of mine, but I won’t hide you. If he asks, I’ll tell him you’re with us.” The ghost of a smile. “But I doubt he’ll ask.”
    “Thank you.” Under his minute scrutiny, I shuffled my feet.
    “More important, I won’t get trapped between the Carrs and the Bishop.”
    “In what, sir?” No sooner were the words out than I realized I shouldn’t have asked.
    Anth was in trouble, he’d told me, and my defiance had made it worse. I was supposed to know about