Still Life With Crows

Corrie tried to stand, found her legs collapsing underneath her. “That’s right. I won’t run away; you don’t need to hurt me. I’ll stay here and play with you.”

“We pway!”And Job squealed with happiness in the dark of the empty field.

2

 

The Rolls-Royce stood in the parking lot beside Maisie’s Diner, covered with dust, its once-glossy surface sandblasted to dullness by the storm. Pendergast was leaning against it, dressed in a fresh black suit, his arms in his pockets, motionless in the crisp morning light.

Corrie turned off the road, eased her Gremlin to a stop beside him, and threw it into park. The engine died with a belch of black exhaust and she stepped out.

Pendergast straightened. “Miss Swanson, I’ll be driving through Allentown on my way back to New York. Are you sure you won’t accept a ride?”

Corrie shook her head. “This is something I’d like to do on my own.”

“I could run your father’s name through the database and give you advance notice of anything, shall we say,unusual in his current situation?”

“No. I’d rather not know in advance. I’m not expecting any miracles.”

He looked at her intently, not speaking.

“I’m going to be just fine,” she said.

After a moment he nodded. “I know you will. If you won’t accept a ride, however, you must at least accept this.”

He took a step closer, withdrew an envelope from his pocket, and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Consider it an early graduation present.”

Corrie opened it and a savings account passbook came sliding out. The sum of $25,000 had been deposited in an educational trust account in her name.

“No,” she said immediately. “No, I can’t.”

Pendergast smiled. “Not only can you, but you must.”

“Sorry. I just can’t accept it.”

Pendergast seemed to hesitate a moment. Then he spoke again. “Then let me explain why you must,” he said, his voice very low. “By chance, under circumstances I’d rather not go into, last fall I came into a considerable inheritance from a distant and wealthy relation. Suffice to say, he did not make his money via good works. I am trying to rectify, if only partially, the blot he left on the Pendergast family name by giving his money away to worthy causes. Quietly, you understand. You, Corrie, are just such a cause. A most excellent cause, in fact.”

Corrie lowered her eyes for a moment. She could make no answer. Nobody her whole life long had ever given her anything. It felt strange to be cared about—especially by someone as remote, as aloof, as unlike her as Pendergast was. And yet the passbook was there, in her hand, as physical proof.

She looked at the passbook again. Then she slid it back into its envelope.

“What does it mean, educational trust?” she asked.

“You have another year of high school to get through.”

She nodded.

A twinkle appeared in Pendergast’s eye. “Have you ever heard of Phillips Exeter Academy?”

“No.”

“It’s a private boarding school in New Hampshire. They’re holding a place at my request.”

Corrie stared at him. “You mean the money isn’t for college?”

“The important thing is to get you out of here now. This town is killing you.”

“But aboarding school? In New England? I won’t fit in.”

“My dear Corrie, what’s so important about fitting in?I never did. I’m certain you’ll do well there. You’ll find other misfits like yourself—intelligent, curious, creative, skeptical misfits. I’ll be passing through in early November, on my way to Maine; I’ll drop in to see how you’re getting on.” He coughed delicately into his hand.

To her own surprise, Corrie took an impulsive step forward and hugged him. She felt him stiffen and, after a moment, relax and then gently disentangle himself from her embrace. She looked curiously at him: he seemed distinctly embarrassed.

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me for being unused to physical displays of affection,” he said. “I was not raised in a family that . . .” His voice stopped and he colored faintly.

She stepped back, feeling a confusing welter of emotions, embarrassment foremost among them. For a moment he continued looking at her, a faint, cryptic smile slowly gathering once again on his face. Then he bowed, took her hand, brought her fingers close to his lips, and quickly turned and got into his car. In another moment the Rolls had turned onto the road and was accelerating toward the rising sun, the light winking briefly off its curved surface before it vanished down the long, level stretch of macadam.

Corrie waited a moment and then got into her own car. She looked around—at the suitcase, the tapes, the small pile of books—making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She put the envelope with the passbook into her