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Show ^5 the street in front of the Newgate--he saw an old and battered pickup truck come to a slow rolling stop. He had never seen it before. Behind the steering wheel Fogarty noticed a glowing cigarette. He saw all this as he turned to switch off the lamp at the end of the couch which glared in Sparkle's sad, wet face. Now, in the new relative darkness, he sat back down beside her and breathed deeply. "Go on," he said. "Only my dad was home. He can't work any more because of his back, you know. My mother was out cleaning somebody's house. My dad said he was glad to see me, but that it was a bad day because the police had called about my brother. They were ready to release him on bond, but nobody had enough money." Fogarty could see it coming; this time he decided to go out and meet it. "So you contributed yours," he said. She nodded affirmatively, wiped at her tears. It was impossible not to believe her. Only the pick-up worried him. He felt himself yielding, yet could not bring himself to comfort her fully. "That was a dumb thing to do," he heard himself say. "No it wasn't," she wailed. "He's my brother, my big brother, it felt good to be able to help him. You should understand that." Fogarty tried to make the best of his error in judgement. It took him a minute. "At least you'll get your money back," he said. "No I won't." "Why not? They only hold bond, they don't keep it." "They do if you jump it." "He's running out on the bond?" |
