We came to Clark and turned left, walking west, toward Ed Gradduk’s old house and what was left of Draper’s bar.
“I know it went rough on you,” he said.
I gave a short laugh and shook my head. “You know it went
We walked on together, but it was different now. Our steps were falling in sync, but it seemed as if they shouldn’t be, as if we both thought maybe we should change our pace, let the other fall behind or pull ahead. We stayed together, though, through several blocks of silence.
“You hear people talk about going home all the time,” I said eventually. “Every Christmas, people from out of state, from across the country, tell me they’re going back home. I’ve lived ten minutes down the damn street for years, Draper, and I couldn’t go home. So much as walk in this neighborhood, and anybody who knew me would tell me to leave. My father, who it turns out was the only guy who tried to fix anything the right way, moved out a year after Ed went to jail. It wasn’t because he wanted to leave the neighborhood, either.”
Draper didn’t say anything.
“But, yeah,” I said. “It went rough on me. Yes, it did. Thanks for understanding, buddy.”
“I was a coward,” he said. “I know that. You took the heat for trying to help, and I kept my coward’s mouth shut and let Ed do his time and you pay the rest of the price. I was looking at more time than Ed if they really investigated me, and I used that to tell myself it was all right. Ed was just weighing it and making the best decision for both of us, right? That’s what I told myself.”
“You ever visit him in jail?”
“Every week.”
“You look him in the eye when you were there?”
He didn’t say anything to that. We went another block before a red light brought us to a halt.
“Ed knew what you were trying to do,” Draper said. “I’m not saying he appreciated it, the idea you and Allison cooked up, but he understood. He told me that, himself. You were trying to help. You were a bigger man than me. Without question.”
I shook my head. “Ed was. You were the coward and I was the fool who wanted to be the hero. Ed was the man.”
We kept walking, but didn’t say anything more for a long while. We went for many blocks. Past Ed’s house. I looked up when we went by, wondered about Alberta. Should I go see her? What would I say? None of it would matter now. Not to her.
“I’d give anything for a chance to talk to him,” Draper said. “Just one more conversation. To be able to tell him that it’s done. That you finished it for him.”
“It was done for him five days ago.”
We reached the Hideaway and stopped. We stood together on the sidewalk and looked up at it. The fire department had done a hell of a job, but then they’d had a hell of a lot of practice in the days leading up to the fire. They’d managed to save the building, though the interior was demolished. The sturdy old stone remained, though, the ancient walls and that massive door standing strong and steadfast.
“You gonna get it back up and running?”
“Hell, yes,” Draper said quietly. “No doubt, Lincoln. It’ll be back. I’m one of the only people on this block who actually had fire insurance.”
“Good. You belong behind that bar.”
“It’ll be a while before I can work the bar without turning people’s stomachs. I’ve got plastic surgery ahead, it seems.” He snorted. “Plastic surgery, and me a guy from Clark Avenue. What do you think my regulars will say when they hear that?”
“Probably tell you to spring for the boob job while you’re at it.”
He laughed. “You know, it’ll be a surprise if one of them doesn’t say something close.”
I nodded and turned away. “I’m going to take off, man. Get back up to the hospital, see how my partner’s doing.”
“Wait.”
I turned again and looked at him expectantly.
“Lincoln, I owe you . . . ,”he began, but I waved him off.
“Don’t say that. I don’t want to hear it. Not about owing people, about debts and balances and making amends. It can’t be about that, Scott.”
He frowned, shifted his weight, and hooked his thumbs on his belt, then took them off again. I’d never seen Scott Draper look so awkward.
“Listen,” he said, “I was thinking, maybe you and Allison could drop by later this week. We could grab a drink, have some dinner or something. Hang out again.”
I gazed up the street. “That group’s one name short, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. But that can’t be helped anymore. The others can.”
Cars buzzed back and forth along the avenue, crossing over the pavement where Ed Gradduk had died, nobody slowing. I watched them for a while before I nodded.
“Yeah, Scott. We can do that.”
He put out his hand. “I hope so, Lincoln. When I get the bar open again, I want to see you down here. And not just because I owe you.”
I took his hand. “I’ll be down,” I said.
I left him there in front of his bar and walked up Clark Avenue, the sun warm on my back. Joe had been asleep when I’d left, but he’d wake up again soon. I wanted to be there when he did.
