The Complete Stories - Flannery O'Connor [233]
It was open as if he had been expected but Johnson was in bed. Just enough light came in from the hall for Sheppard to see his shape under the sheet. He came in and stood at the foot of the bed. “They’ve gone,” he said. “I told them you had nothing to do with it and that I’d be responsible.”
There was a muttered “Yeah,” from the pillow.
Sheppard hesitated. “Rufus,” he said, “you didn’t leave the movie for anything at all, did your”
“You make out like you got all this confidence in me!” a sudden outraged voice cried, “and you ain’t got any! You don’t trust me no more now than you did then!” The voice, disembodied, seemed to come more surely from the depths of Johnson than when his face was visible. It was a cry of reproach, edged slightly with contempt.
“I do have confidence in you,” Sheppard said intensely.
“I have every confidence in you. I believe in you and I trust you completely.”
“You got your eye on me all the time,” the voice said sullenly. ‘When you get through asking me a bunch of questions, you’re going across the hall and ask Norton a bunch of them.”
“I have no intention of asking Norton anything and never did,” Sheppard said gently. “And I don’t suspect you at all. You could hardly have got from the picture show down town and out here to break in a house and back to the picture show in the time you had.”
“That’s why you believe me!” the boy cried,”—because you think I couldn’t have done it.”
“No, no!” Sheppard said. “I believe you because I believe you’ve got the brains and the guts not to get in trouble again. I believe you know yourself well enough now to know that you don’t have to do such things. I believe that you can make anything of yourself that you set your mind to.”
Johnson sat up. A faint light shone on his forehead but the rest of his face was invisible. “And I could have broke in there if I’d wanted to in the time I had,” he said.
“But I know you didn’t,” Sheppard said. “There’s not the least trace of doubt in my mind.”
There was a silence. Johnson lay back down. Then the voice, low and hoarse, as if it were being forced out with difficulty, said, “You don’t want to steal and smash up things when you’ve got everything you want already.”
Sheppard caught his breath. The boy was thanking him! He was thanking him! There was gratitude in his voice.
There was appreciation. He stood there, smiling foolishly in the dark, trying to hold the moment in suspension. Involuntarily he took a step toward the pillow and stretched out his hand and touched Johnson’s forehead. It was cold and dry like rusty iron.
“I understand. Good night, son,” he said and turned quickly and left the room. He closed the door behind him and stood there, overcome with emotion.
Across the hall Norton’s door was open. The child lay on the bed on his side, looking into the light from the hall.
After this, the road with Johnson would be smooth.
Norton sat up and beckoned to him.
He saw the child but after the first instant, he did not let his eyes focus directly on him. He could not go in and talk to Norton without breaking Johnson’s trust. He hesitated, but remained where he was a moment as if he saw nothing. Tomorrow was the day they were to go back for the shoe. It would be a climax to the good feeling between them. He turned quickly and went back into his own room.
The child sat for some time looking at the spot where his father had stood. Finally his gaze became aimless and he lay back down. The next day Johnson was glum and silent as if he were ashamed that he had revealed himself. His eyes had a hooded look. He seemed to have retired within himself and there to be going through some crisis of determination. Sheppard could not get to the brace shop quickly enough. He left Norton at home because he did not want his attention divided. He wanted to be free to observe Johnson’s reaction minutely.