One Fool At Least Read Online Free PDF Page A

part. Just up to that point, I guess. I don’t remember crashing the car, or anything except waking up in the hospital, and seeing Mom there with that look on her face.” Mike felt guilty about it, I realized. Guilty for what he’d put his parents through, perhaps. Maybe he’d been going too fast, goofing around.
    Molly met my eyes again. “Mike didn’t like Slider before then. He told me Slider wasn’t good enough for me. But after that, they were friends, weren’t you, Mike?”
    “Yeah. He’s a good guy,” Mike said. His eyes looked everywhere except at other eyes. Mike didn’t like the topic of conversation, I thought.
    When our pancakes came, Pat summed up the situation. “In any case, Madeline, I’m sorry that man talked to you, and I hope he didn’t frighten you too much. When we get back to town, I’ll mention something to the sheriff. I’m going to say something to Rad Whalley, too—he’s the editor of our local paper. Maybe he can work something into the latest Finn Flanagan update, making it clear that the Sheas know nothing of Slider’s whereabouts. I mean, this is so unbelievable—” He scratched his jaw and shook his head.
    “We need to make that clear to whomever out there is interested. We have no link to Slider, at least not to his current whereabouts. Meanwhile you and Jack can forget all about it and just enjoy your love nest.”
    Pat Shea’s wedding present to us had been the reservation of his rental property. North of Great Falls, but south of Canada and the wild beauty of Alberta, lay a town called Grand Blue, Montana. It wasn’t Jack’s birthplace—he’d grown up near Helena, close to hundreds of miles of national forestland—but it was in Grand Blue that Pat had settled years before with his young wife and the baby twins. Eventually T.J. and Jack’s parents had relocated to be closer to what, back then, had been their brand new grandbabies; they lived about two hours south of Pat.
    Grand Blue, Jack assured me, aside from being a huge expanse of God’s world relatively untouched by humanity, was full of sky and forest, and only about fifty miles south of The Cat’s Teeth Mountain Range, also called “The Felines” by locals.
    I would love the mountains, Jack had assured me long ago. The mountains would make me believe in God.
    “I already believe in God,” I said.
    “Not like you will in Montana,” he told me with such solemnity that I felt a surge of intimidation. The Cat’s Teeth, where we intended to hike, cut into the sky with a fierce and defiant beauty, a raw and rocky reminder of the elemental nature of the true world.
    This I had seen even in the photographs that Jack had showed me, but I looked forward to seeing those wonders for myself. The cabin Pat had reserved for us had, we were told, a spectacular view of The Felines. Pat had made sure it would be untenanted for our honeymoon, and now Jack and I were to stay in it together for two weeks, enjoying nature and each other—for free. That last part warmed my heart the most, since Jack and I had used up most of our resources pitching in for the wedding, buying gifts for bridesmaids and groomsmen, and purchasing a honeymoon wardrobe.
    “That’s exactly what we’ll do,” said Jack firmly, taking my hand. “Now we need to get packed for the airport. I guess we’ll meet you there. Pass on this info to Mom and Dad when they get here, okay?”
    Two hours later we were bound for O’Hare. Jack had given me the pills that were supposed to ensure a fear-free flight. We’d discussed the trip at length in regard to my phobia, and decided that I really couldn’t get on a plane without some chemical calm.
    I still felt worried, but in a vague, drunken sort of way. Jack was again holding my hand and saying soft quiet things into my ear, but I felt my fear mounting through the haze of drugs. Jack finally told me that I was gripping his hand too hard.
    “Hmmm?” I asked.
    “You’re hurting my hand. You’ve