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“By the way, you ever been to Texas?”
* * *
The kid was out for almost two days, but his infection was finally improving, and his heart was out of danger of being infected. He would need to be monitored for a while, and he still had a long way to go to gain some strength back, but at least he was headed in the right direction. At least he was eating three square meals a day. Plus, Abey’d packed him a whole backpack full of junk to eat from a crap stash she kept in a drawer in her desk at the station—Ho-Hos and Twinkies and such—and she made me promise I’d deliver it.
Law enforcement across Wyoming was looking for her, but so far, Murphy’s mama was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t said much about her to the hospital staff or to the protective services caseworker assigned to him, except that he thought she was dead or gone and he didn’t know where.
When he woke, Samantha and I were there in the hospital. Normally, she wouldn’t have been able to visit with him, but my job afforded us a little leeway.
She followed me to his room, but she was so nervous, biting the inside of her cheek and gripping my fingers so hard when I held her hand that I thought she might break them in two.
When we knocked on his door and entered, Murphy was stiff and scared. It ate at me to see him alone in a strange place like that. Man, did I know how that felt.
“How d’you do?” I asked him, almost laughing at the look on his face when he didn’t answer. I’d seen that face before, in the mirror when I was almost exactly his age. “I think you’ve already met Samantha.” Reaching behind me for her hand again, she grabbed mine, and I pulled her forward. For somebody with such big ideas, she was acting awful shy. “And I’m Deputy Sims, but you can call me Frank. You mind if we sit?”
I wasn’t expecting an answer, and I didn’t get one, but the kid’s heart rate was steady, beeping away slowly on the monitor next to his bed, so I figured he wasn’t about to bolt. Plus, he was connected to an IV and a bunch of other machines, so where could he go? I held the chair next to his bed while Samantha sat, then pulled another from the corner closer to Murphy’s bed, thinking that I had no fucking clue what to say to this kid. What would I have said to myself?
Before I said anything, though, I looked at him, and I realized he wasn’t anything like me. Yeah, sure, we had similar pasts, but Murphy was still innocent. There was still light in those big brown eyes. Maybe he hadn’t been too jaded yet. Maybe he could let someone love and take care of him.
“So, um, I want you to know that I wasn’t chasin’ you to get you in trouble. I was… I, uh, I had a similar thing happen to me when I was your age, so I know how it feels to be hungry and scared, and I wanted to help you.”
Samantha squeezed my hand.
Murphy hadn’t moved an inch since we’d stepped through his door. His eyes were locked onto mine, like if he looked away for even one second, I’d pull a fast one, and he’d end up behind bars.
“Anyway,” I said, “the weather’s been so bad, and the temperature was droppin’ quick, so I wanted to find you so you’d be safe. That’s all.”
“Are you feeling better?” Samantha asked. “We were so worried about you.”
His eyes were as round and as big as golf balls, but still, he didn’t say a word. I remembered not wanting people to force me to talk either, so I stood and nodded. I was planning to come back later to try again. Maybe if I showed up a few times, he’d warm up to me.
“We’ll let you rest, but if you need anything, you just tell the nurse to call me. I left my number at the desk. And here.” I held my work card out for him, with my cell number highlighted.
He wouldn’t take it from my hand. He still wasn’t talking, and that was okay. I set the card on the table next to his bed and turned to go.
Samantha looked a little defeated, but she stood, and I pulled her with me to the door. I grabbed the handle, but then I heard a quiet voice.
“Frank?”
Had he forgotten to tell me to fuck off? That was what I would’ve done.
When I turned back, he fixed his eyes on his blanket.
“Yeah, Murphy?”
“What did you mean, a ‘similar situation’?”
“Oh, um…” I settled my shoulders, trying to convey relaxation. “My mama died when I was thirteen. My dad was already gone, and we didn’t have any other family. So…”
“What’d you do?”
“I did what you did. I found food where I could, slept outside, but I was in Texas that whole year, so it was a lot warmer.”
He looked up, searching my face, desperate for answers. “Y-you were alone for a whole year?”
“Yeah,” I said, slowly sitting again, and Samantha stood behind me. I scooted the chair a little closer to his bed. “Yeah, almost a year. From April to April.”
He was quiet for a minute, and I didn’t try to fill the silence. All the people I’d had yammering in my ears after I was arrested had made me want to punch someone.
