“You okay Stanley? You’re not normally the nervous type.” said Ruth, all of the r’s rolling. She didn’t wait for an answer and was turning the corner before her sentence was finished.
Stanley glanced up at Wallis, quickly looking back down at the book cradled open in his hands. “Thanks for coming. Wasn’t sure you would.”
Wallis reached into her pocket and pulled out the list of names she’d been keeping close since she found it.
“You left this behind in my driveway.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” said Stanley in a breathy whisper, reaching out for the paper, momentary relief crossing his face. “I couldn’t find it. I was worried someone might have taken it.”
Wallis moved the paper just out of his reach. Stanley pulled his hand back, looking hurt.
“First we talk,” said Wallis. “I know some of these boys on this list, know their families. Why does a list of names of nine and ten year old boys have you so frightened?”
“Because people are willing to kill to get that list.” Stanley looked ready to cry. “Ray died trying to figure out what it all meant. He was my best friend since childhood.” Stanley’s lip quivered, the last words coming out in starts and stops. “You know Richmond, not too many of us leave. Moving to Hanover, the next county over, is moving away for these parts.”
“Are you saying he didn’t know? What made him even care?” Wallis felt a wave of anger go through her.
“I had almost the same reaction.” Stanley gave a half-smile, his face relaxing for a moment into deep lines. “Does everything have to be our business? That’s what I said to Ray. We had good lives going for us. Families, jobs, church, running. It was a nice list.” A long sigh escaped Stanley. “It pissed me off, Ray messing with all of that.” Stanley brushed the tears off of his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry ‘bout that. Not usually much of a crier. Haven’t slept much in awhile.” He let out a small snort.
“What made him care, Stanley?” Wallis leaned in, whispering to Stanley, her hand firmly on his arm. Stanley looked down at her hand and sighed again.
“Makes me wonder if this is the way it gets played out all the time. Each new person that gets pulled in. First you’re surprised and a little scared, then mad as hell, then frustrated. I’ll let you know now, it’s a cycle. This is pretty much it, except each stage gets a little more intense.” He pulled his arm away from her grip. “Okay, okay, I know I’m rambling. So what. Blast! You know, I didn’t want to know any of this either!” He threw the book into an old red velvet wingback chair set up in the corner for customers to pause, get absorbed in an expensive travel book.
Stanley started pacing in the small space, his hands laced together, pressing down on the top of his head.
“Ray came to me with these lists. This pile of papers that had charts of all of these boys. Some of the boys were from good families, a lot of them we knew, and said there was a problem. One of the boys on the list, Jimmy McDonough, his mother was complaining to anyone who would listen that her son was getting the short shrift.”
“Jimmy McDonough? I know that name,” said Wallis.
“Yeah, you would. He’s the kid that took a neighbor’s car for a drunken joy ride through the front doors of Midlothian High school. Remember? Right at the beginning of the year. Left it parked right inside the door. His parents paid the damages and got him community service. You’d think the woman would be grateful and be quiet, but Kristen was so mad.”
“At what?”
“She said she was promised Jimmy would be taken care of. He’d get into a decent college, get a good job, have a career and now it was all gone. Jimmy’s last stunt had sealed it.”
“Promised by whom? You’re still not telling me anything, Stanley. Do you not know anything?”
“You don’t read the paper all the time, do you?” He shrugged. “Yeah, I figured. That’s the way it is. Gossip on one side of the James River doesn’t really travel to the other. Got to watch the news, read the paper.”
“I’m going to go,” said Wallis, looking at her watch. “When you get your thoughts together call me at the office,” she said sternly. “I don’t have this much time to throw away.”
“There aren’t any more McDonoughs.” Stanley blurted it out. “All dead, killed in a freak accident crushed between two large semis. Happened just after St. Patrick’s Day.”
“Are you trying to be funny, Stanley? Because it’s not really working for you,” said Wallis, spitting out the words.
“The driver of the second semi said he had reached down to change the stations on the radio and didn’t realize the semi in front was slowing down. The paper said you couldn’t even tell there was a minivan in there somewhere until they pulled the two trucks apart. Nothing left, no survivors. No more McDonoughs.”