Among the Barons

CHAPTER 28

By the time the first guests started leaving, hours later, Luke felt like he’d shaken hundreds of hands, said “sir” and “ma’am” thousands of times, nodded and smiled so much that the muscles in his face ached and the inside of his lips were raw from rubbing on the braces. He’d gone glassy-eyed from forcing himself to stare directly into the faces of total strangers. And his right arm ached from the vise grip Mrs. Grant kept on it, guiding him from guest to guest

‘The president is about to leave,” she hissed in his ear. “We must go outside and bid him farewell. It’s protocol.”

Smits came, too, this time. The three Grants and Luke walked outside and lined up as a chauffeur drove the presidential car around to the front. Mr. and Mrs. Grant stood practically shoulder to shoulder, with Smits on Mrs. Grant’s right and Luke on Mr. Grant’s left. A cool breeze blew through Luke’s hair, and he heard a faint tinkling overhead. He looked up — right at the enormous chandelier he’d been amazed by when he’d first arrived at the Grants’ house.

Luke shivered. The blazing lights seemed to blur as he fought back panic. Watch out for chandeliers…. It was all he could do not to bolt immediately. But all the guests were watching him. The Grants won’t fry to fake my death ~f they’re standing under the chandelier with me, he thought And Oscar won’t try to fake Smits’s death ~f I’m here, too. He forced himself to stand still and straight and tall, an arrogant Grant just like Smits and his parents. But out of the corner of his eye he kept track — of where his friends were — They just behind him, off to the left, and Nina and Joel and John in a clump of servants watching through a side door as the president departed. And he noted that Oscar was just behind Smits. Oscar’s not going to endanger himself Luke told himself.

The president stepped out of the house. His chauffeur opened the door of his limousine and stood waiting as the president slowly moved toward the Grants. He shook each of their hands in turn and gave Mrs. Grant a kiss on each cheek.

“Marvelous party as usual, Sarinia,” the president said. And then, as the chauffeur was helping the president into his car, Luke heard Nina scream behind him.

“Watch out!”

Instinctively Luke looked up. The chandelier was shaking, swaying ominously back and forth. Luke had time to move, but he couldn’t suddenly — his muscles seemed frozen in fear. And then, just as the chandelier began plunging toward him, Luke felt someone knock him off his feet.

It was They. They had tackled him.

They landed safely off to the side just as the chandelier smashed down in a huge explosion of breaking glass. The blazing lights were extinguished instantly. Luke felt shards spray out against his bare hand, practically the only part of his body that wasn’t sheltered by They. The braces bit into his lip and he tasted blood in his mouth. Somebody screamed, and then there was silence. Luke was scared to look back at the chandelier, but he glanced up at the circle of guests and servants around him, silhouetted in the dimmer lights from the windows. Everyone stood frozen in horror.

“That’s what you get for teaching me how to play football,” Trey said in Luke’s ear.

“You saved my life,” Luke muttered back “You’re the hero tonight.”

“Yeah,” They said, sounding amazed. “I guess I am.”

And then he inched away gingerly, being careful not to touch any of the broken glass. His cheeks and hands were already bleeding.

Luke didn’t get up yet, but he gathered the nerve to turn his head to the side, toward the fallen chandelier. Incredibly, Smits was standing out of the way, totally unscathed. But he was staring at the heap of shattered glass with an unearthly look on his face.

“Dead,” he wailed. “They’re all dead! My brother is dead! My parents are dead! Oh, my… brother… is… dead!”

Luke scrambled to his feet so quickly that he accidentally drove more slivers of glass into his hands. He didn’t bother to brush them away He stood looking across the ruined chandelier at the younger boy.

“I’m alive, Smits,” he said. “As long as I’m alive, you have a brother.”

If he’d just wanted to keep up the charade of being Lee, he would have spoken differently But he was too shocked to think about charades or pretenses or lies that had to be told. He was just trying to comfort Smits.

“I’m your brother, Smits,” he said. And Smits looked past all the shattered glass and nodded.