Boys Life

from here. Not very far at all. But… he’s so nice.”
    “I know Dr. Dahninaderke’s true nature,” Mr. Steiner said. “And the true nature of his wife. You saw it when you looked at the face of Jeff Hannaford. Dr. Dahninaderke and Kara probably tortured him to find out who else knew where he was, or maybe they got the information about the diary out of him, and they beat him to death when he wouldn’t tell them where it was or who else knew about it. When you looked at the face of Jeff Hannaford, you saw the twisted soul of Dr. Gunther Dahninaderke. I pray to God you don’t have to look upon such a sight again.”
    Dad stood up and fumbled for his wallet, but Mr. Steiner put money on the table. “I’ll take you to him,” Dad said, and he started for the door.
    “Such a bright young man,” Dr. Lezander said, standing between me and the way out. “There’s that terrier determination, isn’t it? Finding that green feather and then pursuing it to the end? I admire that, Cory, I truly do.”
    “Dr. Lezander?” I felt as if my chest were constricted by iron bands. “I sure would like to go home.”
    He took two steps toward me. I retreated as many.
    He stopped, aware of his power over me. “I want that green feather. Do you know why?”
    I shook my head.
    “Because your having it upsets Miss Sonia. It’s a reminder of the past, and she doesn’t like that. The past should be put behind us, Cory. The world should go on, and leave the things of the past alone, don’t you agree?”
    “I don’t-”
    “But no, just like that green feather, the past has to turn up again and again and again. It has to be plowed up and spread out for everyone to see. The past has to be put on exhibit, and everyone who struggled to keep from drowning in that sludge has to pay the price over and over. It’s not fair, Cory, it’s not right. Do you see?”
    I didn’t. Somewhere along the line, his train had derailed.
    “We were honorable,” Dr. Lezander said, his eyes feverish. “We had honor. We had pride. And look at the world now, Cory! Look what it’s become! We knew the destination, but they wouldn’t let us take the world there. And now you see what you see. Chaos and vulgarity on all sides. Gross interbreedings and couplings that even animals wouldn’t abide. You know, I had my chance to be a physician to human beings. I did. Many times. And do you know that I would rather kneel in the mud and attend to a swine than save a human life? Because that’s what I think of the human race! That’s what I think of the liars who turned their backs on us and sullied our honor! That’s what I… that’s what I… what I think!” He picked up the collie cup and flung it to the floor, and it hit the tiles near my right foot and shattered to pieces with a noise like a gunshot.
    Silence.
    In another moment, Mrs. Lezander called from upstairs: “Frans? What broke, Frans?”
    His brain, I thought.
    “We’re talking,” Dr. Lezander said to her. “Just talking, only that.”
    I heard her footsteps, heavy on the floor, as she moved away.
    Then a scraping sound above us.
    And a few seconds later, the piano being played.
    The tune was “Beautiful Dreamer.” Mrs. Lezander was actually a very talented pianist. She had the hands for it, I recalled Miss Blue Glass saying. I wondered if she also had the hands that were strong enough to wrap hay-baling wire around a man’s throat and strangle him to death. Or had Dr. Lezander done that as Mrs. Lezander had played that same tune in the den above and the parrots had squawked and screamed with the memory of brutal violence?
    “Twenty-five dollars a week,” Dr. Lezander said. “But you must bring me the green feather, and you must never, never talk to Miss Sonia Glass about this again. The past is dead. It should stay buried, where it belongs. Do you agree, Cory?”
    I nodded. Anything to get out of there.
    “Good boy. When can you bring me the feather? Tomorrow afternoon?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “That’s very, very good. When you bring it, I’ll destroy it so Miss Sonia Glass won’t think of the past anymore, and it won’t hurt her. When you bring it, I’ll give you your first week’s money. Is that agreeable?”
    “Yes sir.” Anything, anything.
    “All right, then.” He moved aside from the stairs. “After you, mein herr.”
    I started up.
    The front doorbell rang. “Beautiful Dreamer” abruptly stopped. I heard the scrape again: the piano bench being pushed