The Wolves of Fairmount Park Read Online Free PDF

shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do.”
    Kathleen started down the stairs, and they both watched her come, her hair wet and lines like bruises under her eyes. Brendan caught his brother’s eye and pointed toward the door silently, his eyes hot and white. Orlando put his hands up, placating. He got it.
    Kathleen looked lost in her head and it took her a minute to see Orlando, but when she did she ran to put her arms around him.
    â€œOrlando.” She held him close, and he looked over his shoulderapologetically at his brother, his eyes sorrowful as a dog’s. Kathleen stepped away. “You heard about Michael. Thanks so much for coming.” She seemed genuinely glad he was there.
    â€œHe just came by for a second.”
    â€œYeah, I just wanted to see if, you know.” Orlando shrugged. “There was anything I could do. And to say I’m sorry.”
    â€œThanks. I wish I could make you something.” She swiveled toward the kitchen.
    Brendan said, “But we gotta get back to the hospital.” His eyes were lifeless, and Orlando looked down, rubbing his hands on his pants.
    Kathleen touched his hand and looked into his face. “Come by and see us sometime. When Michael’s home.” She moved away, touching her wet hair, and Orlando moved toward the door.
    Brendan followed him out to the porch, and Orlando turned. It was full dark now, and they were just shapes to each other, blue-black figures of men. A car went by, and they watched it go, Brendan waiting for his brother to speak.
    â€œI know you don’t want me here. I just didn’t know what else to do.” He looked blank and defeated, which just made Brendan angrier somehow.
    â€œJesus, Orlando.” He shook his head. “Are you eating? Do you have a place to live?”
    â€œYeah, I’m okay. I’m right down the street from, you know.”
    â€œFrom what?”
    â€œFrom where Michael—” He shrugged. “From where Michael was last night.”
    Brendan took two quick steps toward him, and Orlando closedhis eyes and stood straighter, as if expecting the punch that Brendan had had coiled in him since he had first seen his half brother on the porch, but Brendan just grabbed the loose sleeve of his jacket and twisted it, bringing them closer.
    â€œChrist, was he with you? Was he coming to see you?”
    Orlando opened his eyes. “No, Brendan, no. I haven’t seen Michael in, I don’t know.” It came out in that tone, that whining schoolkid tone that junkies used with cops.
    â€œThe detectives said the boys had a thousand dollars. Was that to buy drugs? From you?”
    â€œNo, Brendan. No. I don’t know what they were doing. I don’t know anything about it.”
    Brendan released his brother and held his hand out. “Give it.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Brendan snapped his fingers twice and flapped his hand in a “gimme” motion. “Whatever you took from the living room.”
    â€œJesus, Brendan.”
    â€œDon’t even.” His hand went up fast and he slapped his brother. “Don’t even fucking start.”
    Orlando didn’t flinch, but looked down and put one hand into his jacket. He came out with a small picture frame and handed it to Brendan, who took it roughly.
    He had to hold it close to see it on the darkening porch, some kind of phony silver frame with a faded picture of Maire that Kathleen had found among Brendan’s father’s things and put out on the bookcase near the TV. Brendan had thought about making her get rid of it, but for reasons he himself didn’t understand he let it stay. Though he had moved it back behindsome other pictures. Michael in his hockey uniform, Brendan and Kathleen on their wedding day, impossibly young. Other, better memories from the family he made, not the one that made him.
    Brendan shook his head.
    Orlando kept his eyes down. “I wasn’t going to sell