The ELI Event B007R5LTNS

barefoot, frightened. Robin ducked below the windowsill and listened.
    “So what if I know him?” the old man asked. “He’s just a boy. What do you want with him?”
    “That’s our business,” growled the big man. “What’s your connection with him?”
    “What connection? Number one, I have no idea what you’re talking about, and number two, I wouldn’t tell you if I did. Who do you think you are, waking me up, barging in here like this and giving me the third degree?”
    “We told you—we’re with the Air Force.”
    “I don’t care if you’re the president’s laundry boys. To me you’re just a bunch of hoodlums in uniforms, and I don’t have to tell you squat! Now get out of my shop.”
    This time the leader spoke. “Now look, mister, we don’t want trouble any more than you do. Just tell the sergeant here what he wants to know, and we’ll leave.”
    “We know you’ve been supplying the Kirkland boy with electronic parts, and that he uses them for this makeshift computer. What does he do with it?”
    “I don’t know. And it’s none of your damn business anyway. Now get out!”
    “You’re lying! What is he up to?”
    “I don’t know! I just give him the parts, I don’t know what he uses them for!”
    The leader spoke again. “Maybe this will jog your memory.”
    Robin crouched, horrified. He listened for a few moments to the scuffle, heard the old man cry out once, twice. He tried to stay put, but something made him look. When he raised up, he could see only the three military men and the old man’s chair—empty.
    “I think you may have jogged him a bit too much there, Major,” the big one said.
    “Yeah, looks like he’s out cold. Well, I’m satisfied he doesn’t know anything anyway. Whatever the boy’s up to, the old man’s in the dark about it. Come on, let’s get back to the orphanage. We’ve got to find that kid.” The men filed out and roared away in the jeep.
    Before they were out of sight, Robin was in the shop, cradling the old man in his arms. Already ugly red bruises were raising on his thin, pale face, and his head was cut badly. A dark stain on the corner of the table behind him told the story. Blood ran down through the old man’s sparse white hair. Robin pressed on the cut to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t help. The old man moaned in pain.
    “Lydia?” the old man asked weakly. “Lydia, the boy… he’s in trouble.” His eyes were cloudy, unfocused.
    “No, it’s me, it’s me,” Robin choked, the tears beginning to flow. “It’s Robin.”
    “Lydia?” the old man repeated hoarsely. “We have to help Robin… He’s in… trouble.”
    “No, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m right here.” Robin began to rock gently, holding the old man, feeling completely helpless.
    “Oh, Lydia… Thank goodness you’re all right. It’s Robin. He’s…” The voice trailed off.
    “No!” Robin shouted. “No! I’m okay! Please, please,” he sobbed.
    The old man became heavy and limp. “Take… care of him… Lydia.” He breathed out heavily but did not breathe in again. His head gently fell against Robin’s arm.
    For the first time since the fire, Robin cried.
    Robin didn’t know how long he held the old man’s body. He finally lay him gently on the floor of the shop and picked up the telephone on the counter. He dialed Eli’s number and got the high-pitched tone that meant he was online.
    He shouted into the receiver, hoping desperately that the sound of his voice would somehow cause Eli to notice. “Eli! Eli! It’s me, it’s Robin!” No reply; just the carrier. “Eli, answer me! It’s Robin! Help me!” Nothing. “Eli, please, please help me…”
    At last, completely frustrated, he dropped the receiver on the counter. If he couldn’t reach Eli, he was sunk. He had only one other friend in the world, and now he was dead. There was no one else to help him. The military men had his computer, and without it he couldn’t get to Eli. He was beyond tears now, just very tired and very lost and more alone than even he had ever been.
    “Robin?” the telephone said suddenly. “Robin? Is that you?”
    The boy snatched up the receiver. “Eli! Eli, you’re there!”
    “Yes, I detected a disruption on the line, and it turned out to be your voice pattern. Robin, some Air Force people are after you, aren’t they?”
    “Yes! And—”
    “And they’ve gone after your friend the old man.”
    “Worse than that!” Robin cried. “They beat him