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a moment longer before slipping his right hand innocently around Maggie's shoulder. Seemingly of their
own volition, the fingers clenched gently, drawing her still closer to him.
Her face turned up toward his and their eyes locked. He bent forward, lips straining for hers . . . and she
dodged neatly, bussing him on the cheek. Then she rose from the swing and headed for her trailer.
"Night, Alex."
His first thought was that she'd made some kind of unconscious mistake. Her aim was off, that was all.
But there was more to it than that.
'"Night, Alex'?" he repeated. "What the hell's 'Night, Alex'?" He wasn't as much mad as he was confused.
Usually it was Maggie who initiated the kissing. "Hey, wait!" He caught up to her as she started up the
steps toward her small porch.
The spies were out that night. No CIA recruit listened or watched more intently than Louis Rogan from
his position at his bedroom window. He was old enough to have some idea of what was happening, was
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aware there was physicality involved (though he thought of it in different terms). He was as fascinated by
the sight as if he'd been witness to a murder.
Maggie continued up the steps but hesitated at the door.
"C'mon, Maggie, tell me what's wrong. You can always tell me what's wrong."
She eyed him uncertainly. "Won't get mad?"
"Promise." He held up crossed fingers, looked solemn.
"I guess it finally hit me." She didn't want to look at him, but discovered she couldn't look anyplace else.
"You're really going away, aren't you?"
"Is that what's bugging you?"
"Isn't that enough? Don't you think that's important?"
"Sure it's important. Of course I'm going away. We're both going away."
She frowned. "Both?"
He mounted the steps, put both hands on her shoulders. She didn't back away. "Yeah, both of us. Who'd
pester me if not you? Who'd pester you if I wasn't around? Don't you remember? We already went
through all this. I go to college, find a place, get a job, and come back for you."
"I ... I didn't think you were serious about that, Alex. I thought you were just talking through your hat."
"Naw. Always talk through my lips. See?" He stuck out his chin, pointed to his puckered mouth. "Watch
my lips. I ... am ... coming . . . back ... for ... you. Got it?"
"But what about Granny? She needs someone to look after her."
"Granny?" Alex nodded sharply at the trailer. "Granny needs someone to look after her about as much as
Ma Barker did. Granny can take care of herself, and anyway, you're not the only one she's got. Who do
you think helps her out when you're in school?" He gestured toward the surrounding mobiles. "This whole
park's her family. I should have so many friends looking after me."
She was silent, and he found himself nodding at her. "That's not it. That's not it at all, is it? It's something
else. The truth is that you're scared of leaving this place. Scared of leaving . . ."
Suddenly angry, she snapped back at him. "I am not scared!"
He put up both hands, defensively. "Hey, take it easy. So maybe I'm wrong. You know how to prove me
wrong." He softened his tone.
"Whatever happens, whether you come with me right away, or later, or down the road some time, it's
you and me forever, right? Rogan and Gordon versus the world. 'Cause I'm not goin' anywhere far
enough to keep me from coming back to you, Maggie."
What now? Was she laughing at him, or crying? It was always so hard to be sure. He had a clearer idea
when she put her arms around him and hugged him tight.
"Oh, I love you so much, Alex."
"And I love you twice as much back, Maggs. I'll always love you."
This time their lips didn't miss.
Unable to believe his prepubescent gaze, Louis Rogan made an anguished sound as he flipped up the
visor on his space helmet, the better to ensure missing none of the sickening display. Weren't they ever
going to let go of one another? And how could they breathe"! Maybe they were holding their breath,
yeah, that had to be it. But how could they hold their breath for so long!
"Di-a-ree-ah!" he murmured, thoroughly disgusted with what he was seeing.
But he didn't turn away.
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One good thing about working in a small town, Jane Rogan thought tiredly as she drove the old pickup [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]