Free Way Past Legal by Norman Green Page A

said, "I'm sorry. So all he has is you."
     
     
I grinned. "Ain't that a thought? But it's true, all he has is me."
     
     
She laid a hand on my forearm. "I'm sure you're a great father. What is it that you do, Manny? I hope you don't mind me asking."
     
     
"I don't mind. You ought to have some idea what kind of character you got sleeping in your spare bedroom. I work with computer software."
     
     
"Is that right? I wanted Louis to get us a computer, but he says no one ever explained to him why he needed one."
     
     
"Well, you don't need shoes, either, strictly speaking, but it's a little hard to live without them once you've had a pair."
     
     
She laughed. "I can see that," she said. "I guess Louis and I are behind the times." She sounded wistful. I felt myself warming up to her in spite of myself.
     
     
"I have a laptop in my bag," I told her. "Would you like to see what the Internet looks like?"
     
     
"Oh, I'd love to," she said. "Can you do that from here? Don't you have to do something with the phone company?"
     
     
"You guys have a telephone?"
     
     
"Yes."
     
     
"That's all we need. I don't know how far away the server is, though. Probably not a local call. You think Louis will mind?"
     
     
"Oh," she said, "Louis doesn't need to know every little thing that goes on."
     
     
    * * *
She really was a bright woman, she was intuitive, she asked good questions, she had an organized mind, and she wasn't afraid to try new things. I found out she'd been a history teacher, and it wasn't long before she was doing it all by herself, chasing her curious nature all across the Web. Louis and Nicky came in after a while and stood watching us, but neither of them was very interested in what we were doing, and they wandered off to amuse each other some other way. After a couple of hours, Eleanor looked down at her watch.
     
     
"Oh my," she said. "I have to stop. My head is spinning." She stood up. "Does this cost a lot of money?"
     
     
"Doesn't have to," I told her. "If you don't mind reading ads, all you really have to pay for is the phone service."
     
     
"Don't computahs cost thousands of dollars?"
     
     
"Hundreds."
     
     
"I've got to get this." She looked at me. "Louis is going to be seriously pissed off at you."
     
     
    * * *
A couple of things kept me awake that night. The first one was what I'd seen after Eleanor gave me back the laptop. I logged on to a site in Denmark that permits truly anonymous surfing, and then I looked at the Daily News Web site. The Bitch, the woman at the foster home, surprised me. She must have reported Nicky missing, because there was a short item and a picture of him that was probably a year old. He'd had shorter hair, but that face was pretty recognizable. Kids go missing all the time, their faces show up on posters and flyers and milk cartons, and whoever looks at them twice? But Nicky had one of those faces that jump out at you.
     
     
There was another story, too, a bigger one, about the Russians and their stock market scam. I didn't really care what happened to the Russians, but there was a line at the end of the story, how a gang had ripped them off just before the SEC got around to shutting them down. Yeah, right. What bothered me was the line about the cops seeking two men for questioning about the holdup. They didn't have names or pictures, so I assumed Rosey was still one step ahead of them. I believe in riding your luck, but I was beginning to feel like I was out on a fine edge, here. And then, just before he fell asleep, Nicky asked me when we were going home. I had a cold shiver run up my spine when he said that. "Home" is one of those loaded words. I never know what to think when I hear it. It's like when someone asks me where I'm from, I'm tempted to tell them I'm from a curb in Williamsburg, down on Broadway, a couple of blocks from the bridge. It's as good an answer as any. Home, like, where do you really belong?
     
     
No such place.
     
     
I laid