Iris Johansen - Bonnie

“I want you to go away.”

“I can’t do that. She needs me. You have to help the people who need you. You have to do what’s right.”

“Then stay. I don’t care.”

“I believe you do, Ben,” Joe said gently.

Ben lowered his eyes and began to work on his weaving.

Would the photo of Eve do it?

It was possible that it would. That photo moved Joe every time he looked at it. But Joe loved Eve, and she was a stranger to this boy.

Yet he had said she was not a stranger. Who knew what went on in the mind of a boy like Ben? Joe could only hope and risk a little time. Far better than using force and brutalizing the boy as his father had done.

But, as he’d told Ben, time was running out.

“TAKE THE PHOTO AWAY,” BEN SAID.

It was the first time Ben had spoken in the last two hours. He had worked steadily, not looking at Joe, but Joe had seen his eyes wander several times toward the photo beside him on the bench.

“Does it bother you?”

“It mixes me up. You mix me up.”

“Then talk to me. Ask me questions. Maybe I can straighten it out.”

The boy didn’t speak, but his expression held a kind of helpless anguish.

“Okay,” Joe said. “I’ll ask the questions and try to work it out. You want to keep your word to Ted Danner. But you know that Danner’s taking Eve was the wrong thing to do. It was the kind of thing your father would do. Isn’t that right?”

“He won’t hurt her.”

“But you’re afraid of the accidents, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like accidents. They scare me.”

“Then the best thing to do is get her away from him. Then there won’t be an accident. But he won’t let her go, we’ll have to take her. To do that, we have to know where he’s going with her.”

“I don’t know that.”

“But you know where he went when he left the camp on weekends. I think he’s probably taking her there. Don’t you, Ben?”

“He… likes it there sometimes. Sometimes it scares him.”

“Why would it do that?”

No answer. Skip the questions before they caused him to skitter away. “We agree that it’s best that Eve doesn’t stay with him. Now we have to find a way to find her.”

He shook his head. “I promised him.”

Blank wall.

“You’re afraid I’ll hurt him.”

Ben raised his eyes and met his gaze. Joe was once again aware of the gentle clarity that seemed to see beyond and through him. Piercing vision. Knowing vision. “You want to do it,” he said. “No matter what you say, you want to hurt him. Because of the woman. Because you’re afraid for that woman in the photo.”

Joe couldn’t lie. If he did, the boy would see right through him, and he would lose any hope of cooperation. “You’re right, I want to stop anyone who would hurt her. And I would hurt Ted Danner if I thought he was going to do it.” He paused. “If it came to that moment, I believe you would find a way of stopping him, too. If you thought there would be an… accident.”

“I wouldn’t like it. I couldn’t do it.”

“No one is making you do it.” Ben was close, but Joe had an overwhelming barrier to overcome. “Suppose I do everything I can not to hurt Ted Danner. If I can take Eve away from him without hurting him, I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Ben’s gaze searched his face. “You promise?”

“I’ll promise that if he doesn’t hurt Eve, I won’t hurt him.”

“Ever?”

All he had to do was say yes. He slowly shook his head. “I’ll probably have to go after him, but I would do it anyway. It won’t be because you broke your promise. The only result of that will be that Eve will be safe.”

Ben’s gaze was on his face. “You didn’t want to tell me that.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to do the right thing, particularly if it might hurt someone else.”

“Yes.” He looked down at the photo of Eve. “And it’s hard to know what’s right or wrong. What’s right for you may be wrong for me. It’s confusing. I don’t always understand.”

“None of us do, Ben.”

Ben lifted his gaze from the photo. “But lately things are becoming clearer. It’s like lifting a curtain, isn’t it?”

“Is it? And what’s causing that curtain to lift, Ben?”

“I’m not sure. I think it’s the dreams…”

“Will you help me, Ben?”

He didn’t speak for a long time, then he slowly nodded. “I’ll take you to the place.”

“You don’t have to do that. Just tell me where it is.”

“No.” Ben got to his feet. “I have to go with you. I have to make sure nothing happens to Ted. That’s how it has to be.” He headed for the door of the tent. “I’ll go tell my supervisor that he needs to replace me for today.” He smiled. “Though it will be hard for him. I’m real good at my job. Everyone says so.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Joe said gently. “While you’re gone, I’ll let Father Barnabas know that you’ve changed my mind.”

He watched the boy wend his way through the tents on the way to the office. It had been difficult as hell to persuade the boy to go along with him. Even now, he wasn’t sure if he’d succeeded or if the kid’s troubled conscience had been the guiding influence. Whatever it was, he’d take it. He hadn’t expected to run into a boy like Ben here.

Like Ben? He had an idea Ben was unique. He might be slow and have to work his way through the complexity of the human condition and the world around him, but that was not really a handicap in Joe’s eyes. The world ran too fast, judgments were too quickly made, treasures too often lost.

And Ben would hold on to a treasure with all his strength as he was doing with his friendship for Danner. Even when his conscience was being tormented about the danger to Eve, he was still going to make sure no harm came to Ted Danner.

And could Joe keep his promise to Ben about not hurting Danner? He had hedged it, made conditions, but the promise had still been made. He had tied his own hands until he could get Eve free. A fine balance.

All right, accept it. Who knew what would go down when he caught up with Danner? The only thing certain was that Eve would live, Eve would be free.

“You found out what you wanted to know?” Father Barnabas had come to stand beside him at the entry of the tent.

Joe nodded. “I will soon. Ben’s going to take me to the place where Danner used to camp.” He gave the priest a sardonic look. “And I didn’t even have to use a rubber hose on him.”

“I’m a better judge of character than that,” Father Barnabas said quietly. “Under certain circumstances, I’m sure you could be brutal, but not to a boy like Ben.” He turned away. “I’m coming with you. Don’t argue.”

“The hell I won’t argue. This is the end of the line for you. I don’t trust you. If we’re getting close to Danner, I’m not going to have to risk looking over my shoulder every minute.”

“That’s your problem. I’m either going with you or following behind. Make up your mind.”

“I could put you out and there wouldn’t be a decision.”

“But you’d hesitate to do that. Because there’s a part of you that believes that I’m what I seem on the surface and not one of Danner’s demons.”

The priest was right, Joe realized in frustration. His time with Father Barnabas had allowed a strange, complex relationship to develop between them. He alternated between liking and believing him and a distrust that was probably what he should be feeling.

Father Barnabas’s gaze was on Joe’s face. He nodded. “I’ll get my sleeping bag from the car.”

“Sleeping bag? You came prepared.”

He smiled. “I’m the urban type. I don’t like sleeping on the cold ground. I might even let you and Ben take a turn using it.”