Truth and Lies Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the candy store. She was supposed to keep the place open until nine, while Mr. Kiros watched their three small kids. But Mrs. Kiros was almost always late coming downstairs—fifteen minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour. And this was almost always because Mr. Kiros was late closing his printing shop. He’d be out on the sidewalk, smoking a cigar and talking to a customer or a friend. I’d see him there at quarter past six and I’d know I was going to be late getting home again. It goes without saying that I never got paid for the extra fifteen or twenty minutes either, because Mr. Kiros refused to admit he was late going home, and Mrs. Kiros, who was about half the size of her husband and who seemed to be dragging herself around all the time, never contradicted him.
    By the time I got home that night, it was almost quarter to seven. I smelled fried onions as I came upthe walk. The smell was even stronger when I unlocked the front door and stepped into Riel’s sparsely furnished but immaculate house. Riel had lived in the place for a couple of years. He hadn’t done much in the way of decorating, but he sure kept the place clean. I threw my backpack down in the front hall, looked at it sitting there, then scooped it up and threw it into the hall closet. “It doesn’t take any longer to put things where they belong,” Riel always said.
    Riel was perched on a stool at the kitchen counter. He’d made burgers—they were sitting on a broiler pan on top of the stove, ready to go into the oven. He was spinning lettuce while he watched the local news on a small TV that sat on one end of the counter.
    â€œSorry I’m la—” I began.
    Riel held up a hand.
    Okay, whatever. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard, opened the fridge and poured myself some juice.
    â€œSo far the police have no witnesses,” a female voice was saying. “The investigation continues.”
    Riel reached for the remote and shut off the TV.
    â€œRobbie Ducharme?” I asked. I had to bite my tongue to stop from adding,
Again?
    Riel nodded. He slid off his stool and circled the counter to the stove.
    â€œYou’re late,” he said.
    â€œMr. Kiros was late.”
    Riel slid the pan of hamburger patties under the broiler.
    â€œThe man wears a watch, right?” he said. I rolled myeyes, but nodded all the same. “And he expects
you
to show up on time, right?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œMaybe you should make the point that you’re expected to turn up for supper on time,” Riel said. Then, before I could say anything, “Or, if he wants to adjust your hours, that’s okay, but maybe he should also consider adjusting your paycheck.”
    â€œLike that’s ever going to happen.”
    â€œIf you don’t stick up for yourself, for sure it won’t,” Riel said. “You want me to have a talk with him?”
    â€œNo!” I said. The last thing I needed was Riel getting involved in my work life. He was already way too involved in my school life. “I can handle it myself. Besides, he was only a few minutes late.”
    â€œTwenty, thirty minutes every day, it seems like,” Riel said. “What do you think he’d do to
you
if you were twenty or thirty minutes late every day?” Then, switching gears, “Set the table, okay?”
    Usually at supper Riel asked me about my day. Since he taught at my school he knew my timetable and all of my teachers. He’d ask stuff like, “Doing a unit on the law, huh? So, what do you think, the police obtain evidence without going by the book and that evidence gets thrown out even if everyone knows the guy really did it, you think that’s right?”
    A trick question. Testing if I’d been paying attention or if I was just swallowing everything I’d seen on TV—
American
TV. And I’d have to prove that I
had
beenpaying attention. Usually I’d try to get my own