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Show -180= "If, only if. I'm saying if, Jacob." My brother nodded but I could see that he was in a state of deep turmoil, and not really listening to me. Flakes of stone and bits of dried clay stuck to his clothes along with clumps of woolly dust and wood-shavings; he paid no attention to his condition except to pick at himself now and then in an absent-minded way. "You can't just do nothing," Morgan said. Jacob looked at her helplessly. "I'm going to bed," she said. She leaned down to kiss me and whispered, "It's a family thing; I understand that. It's between you and Jacob. But don't let him go to Salem; don't turn him in." We could hear her above us, walking the floor of the room with bare feet, softly stepping back and forth. I looked at Jacob and saw that he had started to cry. "Jesus Christ," he said. "I know it's going to turn out all right," I told him. "He'll still be the pride of the family, the one who'll outshine us all." I was dry-eyed and full of good words but I confess I was in a terrible state also. My legs twitched and tingled as if galvanized by this electric grief that ran like a mean thrill through my body. I was deeply saddened, and it was all I could do to sit still and not leap out of my chair and go jumping around the room. |