Page 29 of Second Story

Noah touches additions I made to keep a little kid’s interest.

“They relate to pages further on in the scrapbook where I added stories about those locations. I didn’t make all of them up. Tried to make it educational.” I dart a quick look at the headmaster. “That’s the story I’d tell your younger kids. A prince on a quest across London, and the other hero of the story who was beside him every step of the way to make a rescue. See?” I point out my attempt to draw Lenny’s favourite action figure.

Joe asks, “Is that?—”

“A cape? Yeah, it is. I’m no artist, but Lenny was pretty set on what his Silver Man looks like.”

“He’s got scars like mine,” Joe says roughly, and Noah frowns, looking between that image and Joe, so I’m pretty sure he gets what I’ve spent a year denying—Joe wasn’t only Lenny’s hero.

Now he’s gonna hear me admit that he was mine too.

8

ISAAC

I flip a few more pages. “Joe was there at the very start. From our first day dealing with the police. With social services. With finding somewhere better for Len than emergency accommodation. When he wasn’t around to help Len anymore, I drew him.”

Noah is easily as rough as Joe was. His glance comes with another high-velocity accusation. “He didn’t stick around when you needed help?”

“I would have.”

Only Joe and I know why he didn’t. I quickly flip to a page full of puppy pictures, and Noah makes an offer that must be unusual. Luke Lawson’s eyebrows shoot up as soon as Noah says, “Your brother likes dogs? I got some he could visit on my brother’s farm.”

Just as quickly, I have to decline and disappoint the man I’m here to impress. “Thanks, but I don’t think Len would enjoy that. I added these pictures to try to help him after the first time we got searched on a visit to Mum and he came face-to-face with security dogs.”

The padre almost sighs, “Little Lenny saw you get searched?”

“Saw it? Kids on prison visits get the same pat-downs as adults.” That makes sense in the abstract. Try watching it happen in real time. I’m as hot with anger now as then. “The dogs were the worst that first time because someone ahead of us set them all off barking. I didn’t know, so I didn’t prepare Len for what might happen. He was even smaller back then.” His eyes had been the same level as so many snapping jaws. “From then on, I started to draw Silver Man with a cloak so Lenny could close his eyes and pretend he was wrapped in it.”

I focus on saying this to the headmaster. I can’t avoid that Joe stares down at the table as if his head is heavy. “If I told this story to your kids, I wouldn’t scare them with those details. I’d tell them everything else Lenny’s hero helped with.” I flip back a few pages to the one holding the map. “Because every time Len made this journey, he followed clues like Joe suggested.” I open a flap. “He solved those clues and found Mum every single time.”

Those clues get passed along the table, little scraps of black card covered in silver writing. Luke Lawson reads one under his breath. “Find a bus sharing the same number as your brother’s age.”

Noah can’t know how old I am. He makes a guess based on our shared ex-address. “The twenty-four?”

I nod and pass him another clue.

“Get off at Southwark. March like a soldier for seven minutes. Get a ticket before you end up in the river.” He smiles for the first time, and wow, he looks years younger. “London Bridge station?”

“Yes. Each clue he solved got him closer to…” I touch a drawing of Lenny’s version of a prison complete with more of those black bars. “Joe was right. It did keep him busy, but gotta be honest, I hated making those journeys. Not looking forward to my next one.”

“You wouldn’t have to make it alone,” Joe states roughly. “And you won’t need a map. I know the way. I’d get you both there if you wanted.”

I never wanted more to believe him or to accept an offer. The reason why I can’t risk it is framed by the window behind him.

Outside this library, Lenny sits in sunshine, the tip of his tongue peeking out as he scribbles. I can picture what he’s drawing with that silver Sharpie, and I clench the map so tightly, it rips.

Luke Lawson notices. “Or you could finish what you started.” He nods at the torn page. “If you wanted, you could rip out that page completely. Put it in an envelope and put it behind you.”

I start that process. More paper rips, and Joe pulls exactly what I need next from his jacket pocket. I’m not alone in watching scarred fingers pass an envelope over, and when I fumble, he folds that torn map for me, helping me yet again.

I’ve tried so hard to stay strong without him, certain I’d never show Joe my one and only weakness. I do it today with more people than him watching.

“Lenny’s getting quieter and quieter,” I confess. “Lost his trust he’ll ever get his mum back. Lost his trust in me making that happen for him.”

Joe’s face tells its own sympathetic story. That’s still a lot to deal with, a mental shift that feels as risky as voicing this does.

“I don’t know how to help him.”

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