The Four Corners of the Sky_ A Novel - Michael Malone [119]
Annie took the chain. She said quietly, “Just stop it, stop lying. There’s no Queen of the Sea.”
“Oh she’s real. La Reina’s head-to-foot real.” Suddenly energy went through him like a shock. “Come on! Let’s play cards. Old time’s sake?” He reached to the bedside drawer, pulled out an old deck of cards and dealt them with a quick fluid rhythm onto the thin blanket, face up, twenty-five cards.
She watched the cards fall perfectly as leaves. “Doesn’t using your hands hurt your burns?” she asked.
“Painkillers,” he told her. “Come on, do it for me?” He moved his hand over the cards. “Please.”
She studied the cards for a minute and then nodded. He gathered them back into a pile. “How many hearts didn’t I deal out?” he asked her.
Eyes closed, she saw the dealt cards lying face up on the sheet. She counted them “…You dealt eight hearts. So five are left. Ace of hearts, jack, nine, eight, and…the two.”
He shuffled through the undealt cards, found and showed her the ace, jack, nine, eight, two of hearts. “A-plus,” he sighed. “What a waste. You’ve still got the gift.”
She shrugged. “For three or four more years. I’m better than I was at seven and not as good as I was at seventeen. Age can wither us, Jack. And it will.”
He shuffled the cards with easy grace, despite the bandages. Tossing a handful in air, he caught one. “Darlin’, age is just an…inconvenient obstacle.”
She caught a card at his next toss. “Has this been a life, Dad?”
“No, but it’s a gift. You’ve got the king of spades.” Without looking, she knew he’d be right. He pointed at the small metal name tag above the pocket of her spotless white Navy jacket. “Lt. Anne Peregrine Goode.” He cocked his eyebrow. “So how is Clark Goode?”
Annie touched the tag protectively. “Clark’s fine. And if you ever use his name in one of your scams again, you will go to jail. Because I’ll make sure of it.”
Laughing softly, her father tossed the cards again. “I bet you would.” He snatched a card from air and held it out with its back to him. “Jack of diamonds,” he said.
Chapter 35
Top Gun
Meanwhile, at home at Pilgrim’s Rest, thinking of Annie’s race to find her father, Clark sat rocking on the porch. Too blind to see him, the old black and white Shih Tzu, Teddy, stood inside, near the screen door. Finally, annoyed by the slow screech of the rocker, she made her way down the hall into the living room. There, looking up from the piano bench, Sam watched Teddy move slowly to the pagoda, unable to keep her curled tail in air, although her gait still had its old hauteur. Sam was playing “Lara’s Theme” from Dr. Zhivago, which she’d found opened on the music stand. The music lapped like a warm pool onto the porch.
Clark ran his fingers along the beads that made up the letters of Annie’s name on the pink baseball cap. Down the hill, stars were coming out, shining in the deep night river like city lights. He was thinking about a conversation he’d once had with D. K. Destin, after they’d gotten news of Annie’s sudden separation from Brad. D. K. talked about how during her childhood he’d worried that her feckless father would show up and ruin her life. But a part of Clark wanted Jack to return, for Sam’s sake, and because it would be proof to Annie that love came back around.
Aware that in the girl’s life, people seemed to vanish, Clark was always trying to comfort her with his predictability. He even deliberately repeated his worst puns, asking over and over, for example, “What’s the difference between an ornithologist and a stutterer?” until she could recite the answer before he could give it. “One’s a bird watcher, and the other’s a word botcher.” His bad puns were a sure thing, regular as the stoplight blinking at the crossroads, regular as Emerald farmland that stretched to the four corners of the sky. In the same way, his gestures—tapping the wide-beamed pine floors with his shoe three times—was a means of reminding