The Target

sound. It was close, real close. He wrenched around on the stool. There was a man standing over him. He was black, his eyes hard and wide, his head bald. Joe never even had a chance to ask the man who he was.

    He felt a huge hand on his shoulder, and saw a big hammer part the air. He felt the blow throughout his body, but it wasn't exactly painful, just a numbing jarring that made his eyes blink once in surprise. The large hand released his shoulder.

    Joe Elders fell beside Shirley's stool, his eyes staring up at her milk-swelled teats.

10

    "I JUST HEARD Emma moving around upstairs. We've only got a few minutes before she comes down. We'll get back to your daddy a bit later. Now our immediate problems: We've got to assume they're professionals. And that means we've also got to assume they have a backup organization to be on us in a flash if we use credit cards. If we're careful, your three thousand and my two thousand should last us just fine until this mess is cleaned up."

    Molly figured she'd been frugal for a total of thirteen months in her life. She'd gone from one wealthy home to taking care of herself, and she'd done it, not that it had lasted long. Then she'd gone to another one. From a rich father to a rich husband. But for the past two years, she'd been on her own again. She loved it. She grinned. Actually, it was the first time she'd smiled in a very long time. "I'm going to go scrub a toilet."

    "Mama, you're joking."

    Emma had arrived, full of energy. Molly hauled her up in a big hug, kissed her small ear, and said, "No, sweetie, this time I'm not. Well, maybe. I'm thinking that if I can take Ramsey in poker, then he can scrub the John. What do you think?"

    Emma looked very serious, her head cocked to one side. "I think you could beat him in Old Maid. I beat you last time we played poker."

    "Thanks for the support, kiddo. All right, I'll think about it. Maybe I can play him to a draw."

    "That's chess, Mama."

    "Yes, but maybe I can figure out how to apply it to poker. Hey, you want some hot dogs for supper?"

    "Oh yes. Ramsey makes the best. We stuck them on coat hangers and held them over the fire in the fireplace."

    Ramsey was sitting in that big recliner, his hands folded over his stomach, a pillow under his leg. "You'll have to go a long way to beat my hot dogs, Molly."

    "I know how to make the secret relish, handed down from my mother's family in Italy. The relish will make her jump off your bandwagon quick enough."

    "We'll see about that. I've got secret other things, like good cheap yellow mustard." He said to Emma, "How come you know about draws and chess?"

    "My boyfriend taught me."

    "You've got a boyfriend, Emma?"

    "His name's Jake. He's my nerd boyfriend."

    Ramsey rolled his eyes. "You also got a jock boyfriend?"

    "Oh no, Ramsey, they're gross."

    "Hey now, I was once a jock and I wasn't gross. Well, maybe I was for a while, when I was real young."

    "Young as me?"

    He stared down into that small intent upturned face. "No, Em, I was never as young as you."

    She giggled, actually giggled. It warmed him to his toes. Molly looked up, smiling. Emma said, "I'm just glad you're not as young as me right now." She lightly touched her palm to the wound in his thigh. "It's not warm anymore."

    "Nope, all of me is at room temperature again."

    She patted him, then skipped off to the small kitchen to help her mother.

    It was an easy evening, with no talk at all about the sword of Damocles that was hanging over their heads, no talk just yet about Molly's criminal father. They played word games, then Ramsey gave Emma a reading lesson using the sets of letters and numbers he'd bought at the bookstore in Dillinger.

    The kid was smart and fast. She was writing his name in full sentences, along with her name and her mother's by nine o'clock. "You put the best teacher in the world with the smartest kid in the world, and just look what you've got." He leaned down to stare at the last word Emma had printed: John.

    Both of them tucked her up in the small single twin bed.

    "You want a night-light on, Em?"

    "No, Mama. Are you going to sleep with me again?"

    "Yes," Molly said easily. "If Ramsey wakes up and gets lonesome, he can talk to us through the wall."

    Emma was smiling even as her eyes closed. They stood looking down at her, this child who had changed both their lives.

    "She wrote my name," Ramsey said. "It was legible. She wrote it in a whole sentence. Amazing."

    "She's got her