Free Feelers by Brian M Wiprud

he needed to see her. He needed to find out what happened to their uncle, and he also hoped to have a place to stay forthe night as he decided what to do next. He knew Jonathon would not be pleased to have an ex-con around but could hardly refuse him if he showed up on their doorstep. Or could he? Clara would not.
    At the Spring Pond station, Danny went to the cabstand and had a driver take him through the winding streets and into a suburban maze of split-level and ranch homes.
    When he got out of the car, he saw Clara immediately. She looked out the window as if she had been waiting for him. Odd, he thought.
    She came through the screen door hesitantly, her belly large in a yellow maternity dress, dyed blond hair in a ponytail and flip-flops on her feet. Glancing both directions, she waited for him to approach. Her face was consumed with worry.
    “I heard you were out, Danny. You should have called.”
    Danny looked both ways, wondering what she was so concerned about. The neighbors? Did the whole neighborhood somehow know there was an ex-con on the block? Would they come with torches and a rope?
    “Is something wrong?”
    “Jonathon isn’t home yet. He won’t be happy.”
    “I’m still your brother. And you’re my kid sister. Who else can I come see when I’m out? You were the last one to stop writing.”
    “I’m sorry, Danny, it’s just that . . .”
    “It’s OK—it actually made it easier not getting any mail, not seeing anyone. Can I come in or . . .”
    Clara’s shoulders slumped. “Of course.” She led the way inside.
    Danny immediately noticed the oddly painted wall, like whoever did the job was running out of paint. He didn’t know it was a new fashion in interior design. He did not recognize any ofthe furniture, and he did not really expect to see any of Uncle Cuddy’s stuff. This was all new. She led the way into the kitchen, where two little dark-headed kids sat. One was a boy about six, and the other was a girl about seven. Each held a spoon filled with SpaghettiOs midway to their mouths. They looked at each other, then at their mom, otherwise motionless.
    “Johnny, Clara, this is Uncle Danny, Mommy’s brother. He’s been away a long time. Say hello to your uncle.”
    Almost inaudibly, the two tykes said in unison, “Hello.”
    “Pleased to meet you.”
    “Let’s talk in the dining room. You kids eat your supper. Need more milk?”
    They put their spoons of canned pasta in their mouths and chewed suspiciously but shook their heads. Their glasses were still half full.
    The dining room had all the usual things, a sideboard, a china cabinet, a large wooden table, and some black lacquer chairs with high backs.
    Brother and sister sat across from each other. She put a hand to her forehead.
    “Jonathon is going to freak out when he gets home.”
    Danny spread his hands helplessly. “He’s not going to cut me any slack? Look, I’m only here to see you for one night. It seemed like the thing to do when you get out. You see family. You are my family, aren’t you?”
    “There was somebody here.”
    Danny stiffened.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “A man came by this afternoon, only a couple hours ago, and he was asking about you.”
    A long pause filled the room. Danny leaned forward.
    “What did he say?”
    Clara’s hands began to wrestle one another. “Just that he heard you were out and he wanted to see you. That’s all. That’s how I knew you were out.”
    Danny’s eyes drifted to the ceiling as he slowly leaned back in his chair.
    “No name? What’d he look like?”
    “He left a number.” Clara pulled a slip of notebook paper from her bra and put it on the table in front of Danny. “He didn’t leave a name, he just said it was important you call him. Short, with short reddish curly hair, and lots of hair on his arms. Older, maybe sixty something.”
    “Never seen him before? From the neighborhood, maybe?”
    She shook her head.
    “Sure?”
    She