Blackwood Farm - Anne Rice [185]
“The boy had on a dirty polo shirt and jeans, and there was a huge black-and-blue mark on his face and one on his arm. On the back of his left hand was a visible burn.
“ ‘Did Charlie hit you?’ I asked.
“He didn’t answer me.
“ ‘Did he push your hand against the heater?’ I asked.
“He didn’t answer. He turned the page. A painting by Gauguin.
“I said, ‘Everything’s going to change. I’m your kin. I’m Pops’ grandson and you’re Pops’ son, you know that, don’t you?’
“He didn’t say anything. Obdurately he looked back at his book and again he turned the page. A painting by Seurat.
“I told him my name. I told him everything would be better. I was about to leave him when I said, ‘One day you’ll get to go to Amsterdam to see Van Gogh’s work in person.’
“ ‘I’d settle for New York,’ he fired back, ‘so I could see all the Impressionists and the Expressionists at the Met.’
“I was stunned. His words were so clear, so crisp.
“ ‘You’re some kind of genius,’ I said.
“ ‘No, I’m not,’ he said. ‘I just read a lot. I read all I wanted to read in the branch library and now I’m working on the Books-a-Million store in Mapleville, where I go to school. My favorite books are about art. Couple of times, Pops brought me books on art.’
“That was an astounding revelation. Pops and books on art. Where would Pops get books on art? What did Pops know of books on art? Yet he had done it for this bastard son whom he allowed to live in squalor in this place.
“Thank God I still had some more money, about fifty dollars. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘This will work wonders at the bargain table. Don’t steal anymore.’
“ ‘I never stole,’ he said. ‘That’s my mother talking. You listen to my mother and you’d think Charlie pushed my hand up against the heater.’
“ ‘Gotcha. The point is, you can buy some to own with that.’
“ ‘Who’s your favorite painter in the whole world?’ he asked.
“ ‘Hard to say,’ I answered.
“ ‘Like if you could only save one painting from the Third World War,’ he pushed, ‘what would it be?’
“ ‘Have to be Renaissance. Have to be a Madonna,’ I replied, ‘but I’m not sure which one. Probably one by Botticelli, but then maybe Fra Filippo Lippi. But there are others. Just not sure.’ I thought of the beautiful woman inside nursing the baby. I wanted to mention her in connection to a Madonna but I didn’t.
“He nodded. ‘I’d save Dürer,’ he said. ‘Salvador Mundi—you know, the face of Christ with the hair parted in the middle.’
“ ‘That’s a good choice,’ I said. ‘Maybe much better than mine.’ I hesitated. We’d come a lot further in this conversation than I’d thought possible when I drove out here. ‘Listen to me,’ I said. ‘Would you like to go off to a good school, a boarding school, you know, get a fine education, get out of here?’
“ ‘I can’t leave Brittany,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t be fair.’
“ ‘What about the others?’
“ ‘I don’t know,’ he answered. He sighed like a big man with a big burden. ‘My mother, she doesn’t really want us,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t so bad when Brittany and I were little. But now that there’s all the others, she hits us a lot. I have to get between her and Brittany and sometimes I can’t do it. I don’t let her hit the little ones at all. I just take the belt right out of her hand.’
“I was revolted, but I had no solution. I had all my life heard that there are real problems with the welfare system and with the foster care system, and I didn’t know what to do.
“ ‘I understand,’ I responded. ‘You can’t leave them behind.’
“ ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I’m going to a better school now than Brittany but she’s getting a good education. I can tell you that much. She does her homework and she’s smart. I don’t know the answer.’
“ ‘Well, listen to me,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to forget about you. I’ll come back with more money. Maybe I can make everything better for your mother and all of you, and she won’t want to hit the children.’
“ ‘How would you do that?’
“ ‘Let me think on it, but believe me. I will be back. Good-bye, Uncle Tommy.’
“That brought the first smile out