Not-Just-Anybody Family Read Online Free PDF Page B

his pink pill down like a pro.
    “Just don’t listen to him, Junior. Don’t believe a word he says. He’s—”
    “Excuse me.”
    Junior looked up in alarm. Everything about the hospital alarmed him, put him on his guard—carts, needles, hammers; and now a policeman was standing in the doorway. The only good thing so far about being in the hospital had been getting away from the police!
    The policeman said exactly what Junior was afraid he would say: “Can I talk to the Blossom boy for a few minutes?”
    “Me?” Junior asked. He pulled his covers up higher on his chest. He wanted to pull them over his head.
    The policeman nodded and came into the room. “How are you feeling this morning, son?”
    “I’m fine.” Junior’s voice was high and thin as a reed.
    “Were you one of the policemen who was there when he fell?” Ralphie asked. He was turned on his side now, propped on his elbow, watching with interest. He did not wear hospital gowns, and he had on a T-shirt that said Genius Inside.
    The policeman said, “Yes.”
    “Then why didn’t you catch him?”
    “What?”
    “When he fell, why didn’t you catch him?” Ralphie spoke each word as carefully as if he were talking to someone who was dull-witted.
    “It all happened pretty fast, son,” the policeman said.
    “Yeah, but you guys are supposed to be pretty fast, have quick reactions. What if it had been a burglary? If you can’t move any quicker than that, you wouldn’t even have your gun out till the robbers had escaped. Part of your training should be in fast reactions, bang-bang; and if you haven’t got them, you should get a desk job or work in a cafeteria. On TV the cops—”
    “We do our best, son.” The policeman turned his back on Ralphie. “Are your legs giving you a lot of trouble?”
    “No,” Junior lied.
    “They’re broken,” Ralphie told the policeman’s back. “Sure, they’re giving him trouble. You think it’s fun to have broken legs?”
    Junior kept his eyes on the mound his toes made under the sheet. He was very, very grateful to have Ralphie in the next bed. Ralphie was better than a lawyer, taking his side, bringing up points Junior had not even thought of. He would have given Ralphie a look of gratitude, but the policeman was standing between them.
    “The reason I was out at your place yesterday afternoon,” the policeman was saying, “was because earlier in the day we had to arrest your grandfather.”
    “Pap?” Now he looked at the policeman.
    “Your grandfather was disturbing the peace. He pulled out a shotgun and fired it on Spring Street.”
    “Did he kill anybody?”
    “No.”
    “Hit anybody?”
    “No, but he’s in jail, and he’s going to have to have a hearing. The hearing’s day after tomorrow, and after that, depending on how things go, he’s liable to spend a month or two in the county jail.”
    “Pap? Jail?” Junior couldn’t fit the two pictures together. “Pap? Jail?”
    “He has a right to a court-appointed lawyer,” Ralphie said. “By the way, did you read him his rights?”
    The policeman ignored Ralphie and gave Junior a look of regret. He took out pencil and paper.
    “Now, son, what we need to know is where your mom is and how to get in touch with her. Your grandfather—Pap, as you call him—told me there were two other kids, your brother and your sister”—he checked a notepad—“Maggie and Vern, and we need to know where they are.”
    Junior looked up at the policeman with his mouth hanging open. He couldn’t have said a word if he’d wanted to. It was as if words hadn’t even been thought of yet.
    Ralphie leaned around the policeman. “Under the law,” he said, “you aren’t required to tell him—one—single—thing.”
    “Thank you,” said Junior.

CHAPTER 10
The Jailbird
    Maggie was at the bus stop, sitting on the bench that had been put there by the Parkinson Funeral Home. She was swinging her legs back and forth.
    She wished, as she usually did, that