anything except scare me that I might tip the damn thing over. I didnât think to shut the engine off.â He stopped, then spoke in a calmer voice. âAfter that, nothing. I woke up in the hospital.â A tear formed, then trickled down the side of his gaunt face. âLike this.â
I wanted to get out of the hot, smelly trailer.
âOkay,â I said. âI just wanted to talk to you a bit before the case came up. Sort of get a feeling for it, you know? Iâll do my very best for you.â
His eyes returned to the television set. âItâs really not for me, the money,â he said quietly. âItâs more for the wife. This is no life for her. With the money they can put me in a nice place. Not a nursing home, not the kind with old people. I wouldnât want to go there. But a nice place, with people like myself. They could take care of me.â
âYour wife doesnât mind, Will,â Mickey said. âShe loves you.â
âThis is Godâs punishment on me,â he said, as if talking to the television. âI was on my way to commit sin that day. Itâs a terrible punishment, but I suppose itâs fair as far as Iâm concerned. My wife, she didnât do anything. Itâs not fair to her. With a little money she and the kids could get a place of their own, a nice place.â
He paused again, this time longer. âShe has to do everything now, feed me, wash me, change me. Itâs no life for her, and I know she hates me for what Iâve done. I donât blame her.â
âDonât worry, Will,â Mickey said. âWeâll do the worrying for you.â
âThey have a visiting nurse who stops by and does the things Milly canât do. But the rest . . .â
Mickey stood up and patted Will McHughâs leg, forgetting that he could not feel the gesture. âEverything is going to be just fine,â he said.
âHeâs right,â I added, feeling like a fraud. It was a choice between cruel truth and mercy. I chose mercy.
âWeâll win,â I said. âI promise you.â
I wasnât sure he even heard me. His attention was completely directed at the fuzzy picture on the screen. It was as if he had escaped into the flickering picture; it was the only escape open to him anymore.
Outside, the air seemed like cool perfume. I gulped it in.
Mildred McHugh had been watching. She came quickly out of the house.
âAre you all done?â she asked Mickey.
âYeah.â
âGood. Iâll go change him. He canât feel anything, but it makes me feel better. Anything else you want?â
Mickey shook his head. âNo.â
âWhen is the appeal hearing again?â
âIn a couple of weeks.â
âDo we have to be there?â
âNo,â Mickey answered. âJust the lawyers.â
She nodded. âJust as well. Itâs hell trying to arrange things to move him.â
She looked at me through those thick lenses. âIf you lose I believe I will kill myself.â She said it without any humor, emotion, or even threat. It was said as a quiet fact. She marched off toward the trailer.
I followed Mickey back to the car and climbed in.
âLetâs go,â Mickey said. âI can use a drink.â
âSo can I. Thatâs why we wonât be stopping for one.â I backed out of the driveway. âMickey, why the hell did you insist on bringing me here? It was a wasted trip.â
He snorted. âNo, it wasnât wasted. When youâre standing up there and talking to those three black-robed assholes youâll remember this. Youâll remember that poor bastard, and youâll do a better job because of it.â
I didnât reply, just shoved the accelerator down and sped away.
Mickey didnât say anything more for a while, then he turned to me. âDo you remember that movie,
The Fly?â
âYeah.â
âWill