Chapter 23




April came into the room. She had taken off the fatigue jacket and was dressed as I'd last seen her in the dark woods at the edge of Route 95, except that her clothes looked a little shabbier. She looked at Susan and said, "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to see you," Susan said.

"I'm not going back," April said.

"You don't have to go back," Susan said. "I only wish to know that you are all right and that you are in a situation that is supportive."

"Shit," April said. "That's teacher shit. Supportive."

"Your parents want you back," Susan said.

"I'll bet," April said.

"They do. They hired Mr. Spenser to find you. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"My father?"

"What about him?"

"He wants me back?"

“I don't think he knows what he wants," Susan said. "Part of him doesn't want you back. Part of him surely does. Unfortunately it's the negative part that shows."

"He don't want me back."

"He's confused," Susan said. "He's in pain. He doesn't know how to say what he feels."

"I know how he feels. He thinks I'm shit. He thinks I'm a whore. Well, fuck him, you know? I'm not going back."

"And your mother," Susan said.

"She's a wimp. She just sucks around him."

"Do you want to stay here then?"

"Yes."

.Why?" April shrugged. "Why not? It's a nice place. I've crashed in a lot worse, you know?"

"This is not a place for you, April. You don't have to go home. I can't force you and I wouldn't if I could. But not here."

"Why not?"

Susan looked straight at Poitras when she spoke. "Because this is an absolute pig of a man," she said.

April laughed, a harsh little sound, without humor. "So what?" she said.

Amy Gurwitz was sitting quietly on a hassock in front of an easy chair near the French doors. Her knees and ankles were together. Her hands were clasped in her lap. She was watching the activity as if it were a movie and she was enthralled.

Susan looked at me. She was stuck. So was I.

147 "We can take her by force, Suze," I said. "But what are we going to do with her?"

"She came here looking for some help," Poitras said. "I was the only one she could trust. So she came here. I'll step around that crack about me being a pig, and I'm giving it to you straight. She's welcome here as long as she wants. Just like Amy, and you can make whatever you want out of that with your dirty goddamned minds, all of you. But the kids know who they can count on, by God. So whyn't you and your goon get the hell out of here before you just make things worse."

"Is that G-O-O-N, rhymes with noon?" I said. "Or G-U-N-E, rhymes with prune?"

Susan was looking at Poitras and he back at her. Then he looked away. Another point for Susan. She had all the points but he seemed to have April. Was it time to play the porno hand. I didn't think April would care. Probably admire his artistic interests. We could bust Poitras, but what would Amy and April do then? Did April go back to Red, maybe take Amy along? I knew she wouldn't go home. They might very well be better off with Poitras than with Red.

"This is not over, Mitchell," Susan said. "I will not give in on this. I can't. I can't let you have access to children."

"Suze," I said, and made a time-out sign by putting one hand horizontally on top of the other one held vertical. "Time to go. I told April I wouldn't force her, and I won't."

Susan opened her mouth and closed it and looked at me once and then turned on her heel and walked out. I stood, smiled at Amy and April, and started toward the door.

"No thanks," I said to Poitras, "we'll find our way out. Nice seeing you again, April. Amy. Mitchell, I may stop by sometime and knock you on your ass again." Then I followed Susan.

Walking down Beacon Street, Susan was galvanic with fury. "How can we let him keep her. Them? How can we?"

"Hey, Suze," I said, "why nip a budding film career?"

"Goddamn it," Susan said, "it is not funny."

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