Brother Odd

right."
        "All right."
        "Are you going to be okay?"
        "All right, okay," he assured me.
        I went to his side of the table, put a hand on his shoulder, and studied the drawing from his perspective.
        He was a superb Tenderer, but he wasn't just that. He understood the qualities of light, the fact of light even in shadow, the beauty of light and the need for it.
        At the window, though the winter twilight lay a few hours away, most of the light had been choked out of the blizzard-throttled sky. Already the day had come to dusk.
        Earlier, Jacob had warned me that the dark would come with the dark. Maybe we couldn't expect that death would wait for full night. Maybe the gloom of this false dusk was dark enough.

CHAPTER 44
        
        OUTSIDE ROOM 14, AFTER I LEFT JACOB WITH the promise to return, Rodion Romanovich said, "Mr. Thomas, your questioning of that young man-it was not done as I would have done it."
        "Yes, sir, but the nuns have an absolute rule against ripping out fingernails with pliers."
        "Well, even nuns are not right about everything. What I was about to say, however, is that you drew him out as well as anyone could have done. I am impressed."
        "I don't know, sir. I'm circling close to it, but I'm not there yet. He has the key. I was sent to him earlier in the day because he has the key."
        "Sent to him by whom?"
        "By someone dead who tried to help me through Justine."
        "Through the drowned girl you mentioned earlier, the one who was dead and then revived."
        "Yes, sir."
        "I was right about you," Romanovich said. "Complex, complicated, even intricate."
        "But innocuous," I assured him.
        Unaware that she walked through a cluster of bodachs, scattering them, Sister Angela came to us.
        She started to speak, and I zipped my lips again. Her periwinkle blues narrowed, for although she understood about bodachs, she wasn't used to being told to shut up.
        When the malign spirits had vanished into various rooms, I said, "Ma'am, I'm hoping you can help me. Jacob here-what do you know about his father?"
        "His father? Nothing."
        "I thought you had backgrounds on all the kids."
        "We do. But Jacob's mother was never married."
        "Jenny Calvino. So that's a maiden-not a married-name."
        "Yes. Before she died of cancer, she arranged for Jacob to be admitted to another church home."
        "Twelve years ago."
        "Yes. She had no family to take him, and on the forms, where the father's name was requested, I'm sad to say, she wrote unknown."
        I said, "I never met the lady, but from even what little I know about her, I can't believe she was so promiscuous that she wouldn't know."
        "It's a world of sorrow, Oddie, because we make it so."
        "I've learned some things from Jacob. He was very ill when he was seven, wasn't he?"
        She nodded. "It's in his medical records. I'm not sure exactly, but I think… some kind of blood infection. He almost died."
        "From things Jacob has said, I believe Jenny called his father to the hospital. It wasn't a warm and fuzzy family reunion. But this name-it may be the key to everything."
        "Jacob doesn't know the name?"
        "I don't think his mother ever told him. However, I believe Mr. Romanovich knows it."
        Surprised, Sister Angela said, "Do you know it, Mr. Romanovich?"
        "If he knows it," I said, "he won't tell you."
        She frowned. "Why won't you tell me, Mr. Romanovich?"
        "Because," I explained, "he's not in the business of giving out information. Just the opposite."
        "But, Mr. Romanovich," said Sister Angela, "surely dispensing information is a fundamental part of a librarian's job."
        "He is not," I said, "a librarian. He will claim to be, but if you press the point, all you'll get out of him is a lot more about Indianapolis than you need to know."
        "There is no harm," Romanovich said, "in acquiring exhaustive knowledge about my beloved Indianapolis. And the truth is, you also know the name."
        Again surprised, Sister Angela turned to me. "Do you know the name of Jacob's father, Oddie?"
        "He suspects it," said Romanovich, "but is reluctant to believe what he suspects."
        "Is that true, Oddie? Why are you reluctant to believe?"
        "Because Mr. Thomas admires the man he