William Monk 19 - Blind Justice

pulled up at their stop. They walked about fifty yards along the pavement to what looked like a meetinghouse. It was not really a proper church, the kind he had expected with the tower and the bell, but Hester seemed quite sure, so he went in beside her through the large open doors.
    Inside there were rows of seats, all very hard, with the sort of backs that made you sit up straight, even if you didn’t want to. There werecrowds of people there already. All the women he could see had hats on: big ones, small ones, ones with flowers, ones with ribbons, pale colors, dark colors, but nothing particularly bright, no reds or pinks or yellows. All the men wore dark suits. It must be some kind of uniform, like at school.
    They had been there only a few moments when a handsome man came forward, smiling. He had fair, wavy hair touched with silver at the sides. He held his hand out, looking for an instant beyond Hester. Then, realizing there was no man with her, he withdrew his hand and bowed very slightly instead.
    “How do you do, ma’am? My name is Abel Taft. May I welcome you to our congregation?”
    “Thank you,” Hester said warmly. “I am Mrs. Monk.” She turned to introduce Scuff, and his heart almost stopped beating. Who was she going to say he was? An urchin she and Monk had picked up from the dockside, who knew no other name but Scuff? Would they make him leave?
    Taft turned to meet Scuff’s eyes.
    Scuff was paralyzed, his mouth as dry as dust.
    Hester smiled, her head a little to one side. “My son, William,” she said, with only the barest hesitation.
    Scuff found himself smiling so widely his face hurt.
    “How do you do, William?” Taft said formally.
    “How do you do?” Scuff’s voice came out scratchily. “Sir,” he added for good measure.
    Taft was still smiling too, as if his smile were almost fixed on his face. Scuff had seen expressions like that before, on the riverbank, when people were trying to sell you something.
    “I hope you will feel uplifted by our service, Mrs. Monk,” Taft said warmly. “And please feel free to ask any questions you care to. I shall hope to see you often and perhaps get to know you a little better. You will find the entire congregation friendly. We have some very fine people here.”
    “I am sure,” Hester agreed. “I have already heard so from others.”
    “Indeed?” Taft had started to move away but stopped, his attention suddenly renewed. “May I ask whom?”
    Hester lowered her eyes. “I think it might embarrass them if I were to say,” she replied modestly. “But it was most sincere, I assure you. I know, at least, that you do a great deal of truly Christian work for those who are not nearly as fortunate as we are.”
    “Indeed we do,” he said eagerly. “I am delighted to see that you are interested. I shall look forward to telling you more after the service.”
    She looked up at him very directly. “Thank you.”
    Scuff regarded her with confusion. He had never seen her behave like this before. Of course, lots of women looked at men like that—but not Hester! What was wrong with her? He did not like the change in her. She had been perfect just as she was.
    Hester led him toward a couple of seats near the back of the hall, and they took the rather squashed places as other people moved along a bit to make room. There were certainly far more people present than he had imagined would want to be here. What was going to happen that was worth all this jostling and shoving, not to mention dressing up and wasting a perfectly good Sunday morning? The sun was shining outside, and hardly anybody had to go to work!
    He started to pay attention when the service began. Mr. Taft was in charge, telling everybody when to stand, when to sing, and saying prayers on everyone else’s behalf. All they had to do was add “Amen” at the end. He seemed to be full of enthusiasm, as if it were all rather exciting. He waved his arms about a bit, and his face was alight. It was a bit like it was his birthday party and all of them his guests. Scuff had seen a party once for a rich boy whose parents had hired a pleasure boat. There were colored ribbons everywhere and a band playing music. It had stopped at one of the docks and Scuff had crept close enough to watch.
    There was music here in this church as well, a big organ playing, and everybody sang. They seemed to know the words. Even Hester did not have to do more than glance at the hymnbook that she held openso he