Free Hero by Mike Lupica Page A

shoes, shined up and looking brand new.
    “Must be serious,” Uncle John said. “The boy sits.”
    He told them then. Not just directing it at his mom. At both of them. Throwing in a little Dr. Abbott-speak at the end, saying that he’d been thinking about it a lot and it was the only way for him to get closure, by seeing where the accident had happened.
    His mom didn’t take as long to react as Kate had.
    “No,” she said.
    “But Mom . . .”
    “No ‘but Mom,’” she said. “I went out there after it happened. Once was enough, believe me.”
    “But at least you went once,” Zach said.
    “It’s not a trip I wanted to make,” she said. “Or one you’re going to.”
    “This is something you’ve been thinking about a lot, haven’t you?” asked Uncle John.
    “Well, yeah,” Zach said. “It’s not like I’m fixed on it. Or it’s something I really want to do. But it’s something I feel like I have to do.”
    “Perhaps as a way of feeling some kind of connection to your father?” John Marshall said.
    “Hey,” Zach’s mom said. “Whose side are you on here?”
    He patted her on the knee but continued speaking to Zach. “It’s something like that, isn’t it?”
    Zach said, “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but yeah, maybe it is.”
    Go with it. It was like Uncle John was passing him the ball, setting up an open jump shot.
    “Think about it however you want,” his mom said. “Both of you. The answer is still no. You’re not putting yourself through that, no matter how swell of an idea you think it is. And I’m not going back there, end of story, end of conversation.”
    “If you don’t want to, I understand, I wouldn’t make you,” Zach said. “So let Alba take me out on the Jitney.” The Jitney was this cool bus people took from New York City out to the Hamptons. Zach and Kate had taken it a few times, loving life on it because it even featured wireless Internet service.
    “Sorry, pal, but this conversation really is over,” Elizabeth Harriman said.
    She could be the nicest, coolest, most understanding mom in the world. But when she dug in like this, Zach knew, you had a better chance of moving Madison Square Garden across Seventh Avenue.
    “Let the boy do it,” Uncle John said. “Let him go there and be there and then be done with it. If you don’t, this will continue to be an itch he can’t scratch. And the discussion won’t end here; it will go on and on. And on.”
    “John Marshall, ” she said. “You know how much I respect your opinion. And how much I rely on your wisdom for all things relating to the welfare of this family. Just not this time.”
    She gave him a look that Zach was pretty sure you wouldn’t have been able to dent with a hammer. Then she looked back at Zach and took an epic deep breath. “Maybe the next time we’re out on the island, whenever that is, maybe the two of us can take a drive out there one day. But for now, when the healing has barely begun, I don’t want you to do this. So you’re not doing this.”
    Zach opened his mouth and closed it.
    He thought, Healing? Was she kidding? What, she’d managed to patch up the hole in the universe his dad had fallen through and not mentioned that to anybody?
    “I hear you,” he said to his mom.
    He got up out of his chair, told Uncle John he’d see him and left them there with their tea and what he was sure was going to be a pretty lively conversation.
    He hadn’t even made it up the first stair before the realization hit him.
    He was making the trip out to Land’s End. On his own.

12
    HE waited until Saturday morning, just because it would have been too complicated to pull off on a school day.
    He and Kate were supposed to stop at the New York Public Library, the big branch, on 42nd Street, for a couple of books they needed on FDR. From there they were going to a one o’clock Knicks game, because Uncle John had scored them some prime tickets.
    It would be the first Knicks game for him